While You Were Sleeping

Umberto rolled his Freightliner into the Pilot Travel Center here in town last night. He washed up, fueled up, and crawled into the sleeper of his cab. Having departed Garyville, Louisiana several hours before, on roads that likely no longer exist, Umberto was understandably exhuasted. His tank of polymer, bound for our treatment plant, was the last shipment to leave the chemical factory before all operations were suspended and the staff was evacuated, due to the inevitable onslaught of Katrina.

Umberto woke up to discover that during the night, as he dreamed peaceful dreams in the cushy cubicle of his shiny tractor trailer, the price of diesel at Pilot had risen fifty cents a gallon. He thought he was still dreaming, a nightmare this time.

We wished friendly Umberto well and waved as he left for Houston, after pumping the 4,027 precious gallons of 8157 coagulant into our fiberglass tank. Who knows when we'll be able to get more, and we can't produce potable water without it. The aftershocks of wrathful Katrina will be felt for quite a while, I reckon, and not just at the pump.