Hauling Redwood Picnic Tables

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It’s odd how something will trigger a long forgotten memory. When I was thinking about the time I drove motorhomes up from California it hit me that was not my first driving job. Several years before, when I worked in a gas station, a customer who came in fairly often asked if I would be interested in hauling redwood picnic tables to Montana on my days off. Before I could answer he added, “You will be driving my new pickup pulling a U-Haul trailer. The tables will be loaded so all you will have to do is drive and maybe help unload.” In those days I loved driving so I said, “Sure.” He asked when my next day off was. I told him and he said to be at his shop by six in the morning. The day came. I hopped out of bed early, got ready and was at his shop at five-thirty. As I drove in I did not see his pickup. I walked to the shop door, opened it and there sat the pickup with the U-Haul loaded with–crap? “It’s all ready to go,” my new boss said. “I don’t think anybody is going to buy those tables,” I said. “They’re not even redwood.” “Sure people will buy them. And they don’t have to be made of redwood. If I stain them redwood I can call them redwood picnic tables.” Not only were they made of pine but the boards were bowed and slightly twisted. I thought about walking out but I had already agreed to do it and the pay was good. So I jumped into the pickup, pulled it out of the shop and headed for Missoula, Montana. The drive over was pretty uneventful. Since it was summertime there was no snow in the passes. I found the grocery store where they were to be delivered. I park out front and went in. “Could I speak to the manager?” I asked the cashier. “May I asked why?” the cashier asked. “I have your picnic tables.” The cashier got on the intercom and announced the picnic tables were there. Five men suddenly appeared. “Our picnic tables are here?” one man asked excitedly. “Yes,” I said. “Pull around back and we will get them unload,” the man said. All five men headed to the back of the store. I pulled the load around to where the men waited. “This is the picnic tables?” one of the men asked. “Yes.” “We don’t want this crap. Take them back.” I told the guy I need to call my boss first. I called and told him they did not want the tables. He asked to talk to the manager. I handed the phone to the manager and after a few minutes he hung up. “Ok, we need to get them unloaded,” he said. I didn’t know what the boss told them but the men moaned about how awful the tables were as they unload them. Once they were unloaded I drove back to Spokane. The following week I was off to Butte, Montana with another load. The same thing happened there. Excitement the tables were there; get that crap out of here; call the boss; unload the tables; return home. The next week it was Helena. The same story. The following week I headed for Great Falls. By the time I got there it was already dark. This time the manager fought my boss over the phone telling him there was no way that crap was going to be left at his store. This time I was close enough to the phone to hear what my boss was saying. He kept trying to tell the store manager he could sell them and pay him once they sold. If they didn’t sell I would come back and pick them up. The manager was not buying it. Finally my boss said, “He needs to get the truck unloaded because he has to pickup another load on his way back. Then he’ll be back in a week and pick them up.” It was a total lie. I did not have any tables to pick up on my return trip and I had never gone back and picked up tables. The manager reluctantly agree to leave them there. It turned out that was my last trip. I never did go back to get any tables. About a year later I heard on the news that this picnic table guy was arrested for fraudulence dealings. I had no idea what he was up to by then. He had given up on the picnic tables long before he was arrested.