Stacy reached over and smacked him on the shoulder. He was falling asleep at the wheel. Again. Granted it was late and dark, but you’d think a professional truck driver would be more… professional.
She’d been excited about the date. He was handsome… manly… polite. So when he suggested a romantic getaway, she agreed. A bit fast, but why not?
She quickly found out why not.
It wasn’t a date. It was a run. They were delivering a tractor-trailer full of lumber clear across the state.
Stacy gave him another smack. She didn’t care if he was asleep or not.
The Weekday One Hundred 