10 Jul Bottling The American Dream: Part 2
Bottling the American Dream: Part 2
It was a hot summer afternoon in Philadelphia. The air outside hung stagnant and had begun to acquire a yellow mustard-like haze. The room smelled of used pine tree air fresheners mixed with stale coffee. Bryan and I sat next to each other. Beads of sweat meandered down our faces before cascading to the lanolium floor below. Tick… Tick…Tick. An old clock on the far wall obtrusively cut the silence of the room.
“Hey man, what gives- how much longer?” my brother demanded.
The Truck Rental attendant put down his crossword puzzle and mumbled something into a walkie-talkie.
“Your truck is out front”, he replied.
We walked out into the blistering heat. The sunlight piercing our eyes as if we had just woken from a long winter hibernation. The rig stood idling before us. A different attendant jumped out of the cab.
“Hey either of you ever driven one of these?” The attendant asked.
“Yup”, I automatically replied.
A blatant lie, but the inefficiencies of the truck rental business had now put us behind the 8-ball. 13 feet high and 40 feet long, this was definitely not my mother’s suburban. We brushed the attendant away with a nice tip and climbed into the cockpit. I quickly looked over the controls and shifted it into gear. We were on our way.
“We are so screwed, bro! Our docking appointment was an hour ago. And where the sh!t are we even headed?” Bryan aggressively inquired.
The destination: an international distribution center located somewhere on the south side of the Philadelphia Airport.
The package: a custom designed German distillation system, ordered well over a year ago.
We pulled into Cargo City and found our way to the correct distribution center.
“Your docking appointment was an hour and a half ago, you will need to reschedule”, the office clerk stated.
That was the last thing that was going to happen. Bryan snapped to in normal fashion and began doing what he does best. Five minutes later, we were clear to bring the truck in.
Locked and loaded, we set out for the distillery with 9 crates of precious cargo. The ride was very quiet. The idea of an unforeseen accident collapsing our business launch perverted our minds. An hour later we safely arrived at our shop. We fired up the fork truck and started unloading the cargo.
“Let’s break it all out,” Bryan suggested.
The next two hours were like Christmas morning on steroids. There were boxes of tools and pipes and wires. Manuals for all the different components. Huge columns that required many people to move. When the dust finally settled, we stood paralyzed gazing at what we had waited so very long to receive. 112 individual components laid out across the warehouse floor.