My job makes me drive a death trap of a van, so I enjoy a free steak dinner on the clock

when it breaks.

Here's what happened.

Subscribe to Am I the Jerk on YouTube and hit the bell for notifications.

This story is one of how a lowly delivery driver got to royally irk a dispatcher, waste his time,

get four hours of overtime, meal paid for, and a free beer.

So I was a driver for a little company that rhymes with Slamazon.

I had been there for several months by this point and had developed a reputation about being very

particular about vehicle maintenance. We aren't talking like washing them or whatnot, but cleaning

out urine bottles, fixing broken wiper blades, installing lights to replace the burnt-out ones,

or other stuff that would indicate you actually remotely care for your driver's well-being.

Seriously, guys, I once had a van with no working lights of any kind,

and the passenger side door fell off its hinges

right in front of my dispatchers.

And they still sent me out. Needless to say, some trips were better than others, but this particular time, well, it was a doozy.

You see, my friends, I was considered a problem driver by some for being obsessed with vehicles

being kept road legal.

I had not caused any issues other than this.

We had dispatchers that were promoted up after a month and after hitting mailboxes, cars and other kinds of

insanity. But I was always skipped over. This naturally irked me to no end and I was looking

for a better job within six months of starting.

I was there for nearly two years.

...