tales of a street sweeper(lol)

[DeutscheBAG!]

a friend sent me this link about this guy who needed some money and chose to become a street sweeper in nashville,TN.. the stories this guy has are funny as hell..here is how it all starts and good example of his antics...long read but def. worth it

http://forums.somethingawful.com/sho...0&pagenumber=1

When I burned out of college in spring of 2006, I found myself needing cash in the worst kind of way. I was flipping through the newspaper when I found an ad that read:
"Sweeper Vac Driver needed. 3rd shift only"

and gave subsequent contact info. I'm really great doing over night work and decided that I'd give it a shot. I arrive at the office, fill out an application, and before I walked out of the door I was given the job and told to report for training the following evening.

So, I reported to the office the following evening... and had the weirdest/craziest/funniest 8 months of my life. I was hoping to share a story or two with you guys. If you like 'em, I've got TONS.

Stopping a robbery
Incorrectly thinking some guy was dead
Screwing with ricers
Helping the 5 - 0 bust a tranny hooker
and more than I can remember

Training Day:

Trying to make a good first impression, I showed up at 7:30; 15 minutes ahead of schedule. I found a note taped to the door that told me to have a seat in the break room and that my trainer would be with me shortly. Well, 7:30 eventually turned into 8:45 when I had decided to say "gently caress it" and walk out. As I was heading for the door, a very unkempt man wearing jeans and a dirty T-Shirt stumbled in.

Hey..uh.. you Bruiser?

Yeah, I've been here since-

Cool... alright, well uh, lemme go clock in and we'll get going. Here, take this stuff around back to our truck and I'll meet you out there.

I walked out, found our truck, and did some more waiting. Eventually, the guy comes back out with a bag full of stuff and sets it behind the seat. The guy finally introduces himself as Mark. He explained the finer points of the job.

We go around to places like malls and grocery stores, use the sweeper truck to suck up the trash, use leaf blowers to blow trash away form the sidewalk, and empty all of the trashcans.

Wow, that wasn't in the job description.

haha, it never is. Don't worry, FNG's get the hang of the job easily

FNG?

That's you, buddy.

Mark and I got to know each other en route to the first place we had to clean. He's one of the coolest guy's I've ever met and continues to be a friend to this day. He's got a really dry sense of humor, he's kind of a , and had been doing the job way too long.

I got the hang of it midway through the night. It wasn't hard at all, just mind-numbingly dull manual labor. Happy to have someone to talk to, Mark kept me entertained the entire night with stuff he had seen "out there". He also let me in on the fact that the "Sweeper Vac Guys" are pretty tight knit just for how lovely a job it was, and that leaving the "FNG" in the break room is kind of a hazing.

After a quick coffee break, we pulled up to one of our last stops for the night. It was a Walgreen's dead in the center of the Nashville ghetto. Mark dropped me off in front of the building.

Alright, buddy, I'm going to run across the street to our last stop of the night. Go ahead and change the trashcans and check the back of the store for anything out of the ordinary. I'll pick you up when you're done and we'll call it a night

You're leaving me?

Don't worry, call on the radio if you need anything!

and just like that, my pasty white rear end was in the middle of the ghetto at 3am on a friday night. But, luckily for me, I grew up in D.C. and had learned some street sense.

I change the cans really quickly and went around back to "look for anything out of the ordinary".

Usually, I'm really good about watching my back. Notice I said "usually". I was noting that the lights had been shot out when I heard something behind me. I whirled around to see a crack head standing a few feet from me.

Hey man! Hey! Uh, do you have a light, man?

Sorry, I don't smoke

Hey! Uh, do you got a dollar, man?

Listen man, I'm covered to my head in stink at 3am on a Friday night. Does it look like I have a dollar?

The guy then pulls a knife from his jacket pocket. This is not going to happen. I'm covered head to toe in grime, I'm exhausted, and now a crack head is trying to mug me on my first night at work. This is not going to happen. So I did the only thing I could do.

Come on, man! Give me that wallet!

I hold up my hands, nod, and make like I'm reaching behind me for my wallet. Well, some ****** had missed the dumpster with a pallet earlier in the day and had left planks of wood scattered about behind me.

I grab a plank of wood, whip around, and crack it as hard as I can on the side of his face. He drops like a ton of bricks and I reached for the radio.

Hey! Some crack head just tried to mug be back here. I think I knocked him out. Do we need to call Metro PD or something?

*long pause*

Hello?!

Is he dead?

WHAT!?

Is. He. Dead.

I reached down and felt a strong pulse on the guy (but man was his face a wreck).

No, he's alive.

gently caress it, I'm coming to pick you up, see you in a sec.

A moment later, Mark comes roaring behind the store, stops, and looks at my handy-work.

Good form!

Can we go now?

I mean, I've had to drop guys before, but this takes the cake!

Can we please go now?

Mark then takes a picture with his cell phone

I can't wait to show the guys when we get back to the office!

Later on that morning, he introduced me to everyone in the group. After showing off the pictures and bragging about "How his FNG dropped someone the first night" one of the other guys, Jay, got me a cup of coffee.

It was then that I found out that almost getting robbed was apart of the job and I handled it like it was supposed to be handled.

I also found out that "FNG" stood for "****in' New Guy."

[DeutscheBAG!]

Illegal Street (sweeper) Racing:
Halfway through my stay at the company, I was working 7 days a week. 5 days on my normal route in Murfreesboro and the weekend sweeping in Clarksville. Now, for those of you not familiar with the geography, Murfreesoboro is in the exact center of TN where as Clarksville is on the TN/KY border. I had finished my Friday night in Clarksville and was cruising down I-24 when i get a call from Mike.

Hey, where are you at?

I'm about 20 outside Nashville, you?

I'm just wrapping up here in Green Hills (Nashville 'burb).

Cool, you want to meet up?

Actually, I'm so fast I'll probably beat you back to Murfreesboro AND have time to gently caress your girlfriend.

That fast, eh?

That fast.

Well, perk up your ears, old man. I want you to hear this. Never. Not in this lifetime or the next will you ever beat me in a race. Not tonight. Not ever.

Oh, we'll see. Give me a call before you reach the Trinity Ln. Exit. I'll be waiting.

See you there.

Now, Mike and I are pretty close. We tended to hang out after work during the week drinking beer and playing Need for Speed: Most Wanted until noon. By the way, getting drunk at 9am is awesome. But I digress.

I radio in that I'm about to pass the exit, and the race is on.

I pass his truck at 80 and he quickly catches up. My side mirrors are filled with his headlights as we fly down I-24 at 4 in the morning. He passes me and I drop the hammer. Tucking in behind his truck, I start drafting him at 97 miles an hour.

The entire truck is shaking. For a brief instant I think that this rat-trap piece of poo poo is going to fall apart around me. A demon is trying to escape from the hood. I can't imagine what two sweeper vac trucks traveling at speeds close to 100 miles an hour, inches apart from each other looks like*.

I see the sign for our exit; 3/4 of a mile. I sling shot around Mike and take a glance at the speedometer. There I can't see the needle and the rear end end is poking toward "5". I finally pass him and rocket up the on ramp. Our office isn't too far off the interstate and I do a good job of blocking until I get to the shop. Needless to say, I won.

Well, We pull in and hop out.

Hah! What the gently caress did I say!

Um.. Bruiser?

You see that poo poo?! I had the needle buried into the dash. I'm awesome!

Bruiser?

I think you need to buy the beer today, because that poo poo was outta sight!

BRUISER!

WHAT?!

Look at the rear end end of your truck.

I walk around and take a look. The rear axle at the wheel hubs was smoking. I did the mental connect the dots.

Was I on...

Fire? Yeah. You were. I tried to tell you, but you didn't hear me.

Did it look cool?

...

I bet it did.

Are you kidding me? It was like the sweeper truck from hell! It was loving fantastic!

I knew it.

And that was the end of the story. Or at least I thought it was until Bryce called me.

Hey Bruise

Bryceman!

Yeah.. uh, hi. Listen, I just got a call from a trooper friend of mine talking about a pair of sweeper trucks doing about a buck-oh-five down 24. You know anything about that?

NOOOOOOOoooooo, are you serious? These things? They hardly do 80

Riiiiiiight, well just look for the smoking truck, apparently the guy was burning his axles and looked all seven flavors of hell coming down the highway

[DeutscheBAG!]

Messing With Ricers:

It's like "The Fast and the Furious"... but with even worse cars and zit-faced high school kids:

So, I pull into Dover Crossing (see: lovely Kroger shopping center) and cruise around to get a general idea of how much trash is on the parking lot. Well, right in the center of the lot there are around 30 high school aged kids showing off their cheap, poorly modded, late 90's import cars. I could have handled that alone, but the cars we're parked the exact opposite from the parking spaces. I guess spending mommy's money on a body kit from eBay (that you managed to crack 2 days after purchase) gives you the right to do that. There are a couple of problems here:

1) The children are hanging out right in the middle of the lot... over trash... that I need to pick up... now.

2) I have a deep hatred for idiot 17 year olds, lovely riced-out Honda civics, AND the anorexic trailer trash that passes for female companionship in that neck of the woods.

A trifecta of doom united.

this could get interesting.

So I park the truck at the end of the lot, blow out the curb line, and proceed to pick up every bit of trash AROUND the Mentally Challenged Drivers Club meeting. I made a few close passes, hoping that they would get some assemblage of a clue and move. I then shunned myself for applying an ounce of logic when dealing with retards.

So I cruise around for around 5 minutes and they still don't move. I shut down the rear engine and go over to the group of kids, I quickly find the leader and have a conversation with him... it went something like this:

Hey man, I was wondering if you guys could move a couple of spaces over so I can sweep here. You don't have to move your car or anything, I just need to get into this aisle for about 3 minutes."

Moron: "gently caress you."

Hey man, we don't need any of that.. I just need to move in here for a few minutes. I'll be out of your hair in no time, really.

Moron: "Why don't you get back into your truck, and get the gently caress out of here."

-- Now... the group of kids had gathered around, and had actually started laughing at that last comment.

So, it's like that?

Moron: "Yeah, it's like that."

Alright man, just remember that I asked nicely first.

Moron: "gently caress OFF, GARBAGE MAN!"


-- You know, something I've never understood is why people have to mess with me. First of all, I'm as big as a tank and I know how to fight. Second of all, I'm a nice guy... until you piss me off. So the children taunt me as I go back to my truck.

Oh, drat.. I forgot to mention that I picked up a bag of Quick-Crete at Home Depot.. my previous stop that evening. You see, it was a full bag that had split open, so I had just put it in the back of my hopper (the hopper is where all of the trash goes). Oops. I wonder what would happen if I ran the blower engine (that's the engine that creates suction) at 100% throttle with all of that powdered Quick-Crete in the back... might as well find out, right?

I dropped the hammer on the throttle control. My blower engine was screaming at full throttle, exhaust shooting out of the pipes. I had never run it at full power because usually 30-50% is more than enough to pick up garbage.Plus, I didn't need anymore exploding sweeper trucks. The entire truck was shuddering. There was so much pressure in the hopper, the Quick-Crete couldn't find a way to escape.... so I made one.

I made one final run at the children. I was going about 25 miles an hour when I hit the controls to separate the hopper from the truck. What ensued was something for the ages.

Quick-Crete and dust came billowing out of the two gigantic intake tubes. It seriously looked like a scene from Maximum Overdrive. The sound was horrendous as I made 3 loops around the children and their cars. A Thick cloud of dust enveloped the parking lot as I did my laps like some kind of demon.

The kids literally sprinted to their cars which were now covered with a super fine layer of white powder. I had never seen a parking lot clear out in under 15 seconds.

I shut my engine down, reconnected the hopper to the intake tubes, and moved to the dust storm-free front of the Kroger. Unbeknownst to me, I had drawn a crowd of the late night stocking crew who had seen me talking to the teens on camera, and wanted to watch the action.

I hopped out of the truck and lit a cigarette. All of the stocking crew was amazed and said "that was loving awesome!" and that I "showed those assholes". We chatted for a few minutes as the dust cloud settled. It was time to move on to my next stop.


Oh, there's one more thing. A rainstorm had moved through about 10 minutes before I showed up. Their cars were wet when I crop dusted.

Hope they had fun getting that poo poo off.

[Mr_Mischif]

This is awesome.

[Mr_Mischif]

Here are my favorites:

The nacho cheese incident:

If time would allow, Mike and I would team up and end our night that much faster. Towards the end of one of these nights, Dad and i were sweeping behind a center with a hotdog place. Well, behind the hotdog place, sitting in all of it's glory, was a box of restaurant size cans of dead nacho cheese.

Want to have some fun?

Of course.

How does 25 cans of nacho cheese sound?

I bet it would look awesome if we ran over them.

Exploding cans of cheese!

Exploding cans of cheese. Get out and set up one of them.

I hopped out and set up one of the huge cans sideways about 20 yards from Mike

Okay, let 'er rip!

He gunned the engine and hit the can at 30 miles an hour. *POW!* the can exploded, cheese going everywhere over the truck.

Muwahahaha! Nice!

My turn. Set up 5 in a row.

Mike set them up, I dropped the hammer, and hit the cans at 50 miles and hour. *POP POP POP POP POP!!!*. It was like a giant tidal wave of cheese hit my truck. Dead cans were getting trapped under it, leaving a trail of sparks behind me.

This continued on for the next 10 minutes. Two grown men giggling like school girls at exploding cans of cheese.

It wasn't our fault they sounded like gunfire. It wasn't our fault there was an apartment complex right in front of us.

A cop pulled around behind the store right as Mike nailed another can. From his angle, he couldn't see where the sound was coming from. He bolted out of his car.

DROP THE WEAPON!

???

The cop finally sees our trucks, covered in Nacho cheese.

What the hell?

Exploding cans of Nacho cheese, sir.

...why?

They won't go into the truck, so we have to run them over to save space. EPA and Company regulations. My hands are tied.

No guns?

No guns.

CARRY ON!

And he drove off.

Well, eventually the night ended, and we drove our trucks back to the barn. It turns out that the wash-bay was down for repairs again, so we had to leave a maintenance slip.

DRIVER: Bruiser
TRUCK: The one covered in nacho cheese.
REPAIR REQUESTED: I can't see out of the windshield very well.
NOTES: You should have been there.

DRIVER: Mike
TRUCK: The other one covered in nacho cheese.
REPAIR REQUESTED: Ditto
NOTES: Yeah, it was pretty bitchin'!

[Mr_Mischif]

Bombs Away, Pt. 4: Execution.

I want you to get the full effect of what happened, for it is so incredible that you reading the text is not enough. What I want you to do is go to your music device of choice. I want you to find Metallica's "Master of Puppets". Now, before you start scrolling down and reading the conclusion, I want you to cue the song up. Not to long after the conclusion starts, I will tell you that I started playing the music. That's your cue. Play the song and crank it up.

I promise that it will make the story that much better.

And remember.. A promise from Bruiser is a goddamn certainty.

------

It was completely pitch black as I slowly eased my truck around the corner. I could see about 25 or 30 goth kids with their cars circled up. I saw all sorts of dancing in the circle with Marylin Manson blaring out of a boom box. I caught a portion of a conversation.

OH MAN, I'M SO loving HIGH RIGHT NOW!

I KNOW MAN! I THINK WE'RE ALL STILL TRIPPING PRETTY HARD!!

I couldn't believe my luck.

It doesn't get much easier than this.

I threw the truck into gear and sped off to the circle of cars. I turned the lights off and did laps around the circle of cars. I started pulling the pins on the smokers and throwing them out of the window. The goth kids were too baked to do anything but stare. I pulled away from the circle, completely hidden by the smoke. I flipped on the strobe.

I hopped out and hit PLAY on the iPod.

Master of puppets started blaring out of the PA system.

I popped the two flares and started running toward them.

It looked like the loving Apocalypse. Metallica blaring, strobe light, smoke, and road flares all going off at once. I ran toward them at full steam and shouted.

I AM THE DARK LORD HERE TO REAP YOUR SOULS!

AHHHHH! HOLY loving poo poo, WHAT'S GOING ON!

YOU HAVE hosed WITH THE WRONG PERSON! PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR THE BATTLE!

I ran through the smoke and chucked the road flares at them while pulling the sword from the sheath. They were running into each other and falling down on the pavement, too scared to get up. I stood over a group of them.

WWWWAAARRRRRRHHHGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAHHHH!

I jammed the plunger down and sprayed them with blood.

Ohshitohshitohshit! AHHHHHHH! WHAT THE gently caress IS HAPPENING!

I made like I was ripping at my face, standing over a goth girl, spraying her with fake blood and pointing the sword at her.

PLEASE! PLEASE, OH loving CHRIST, PLEASE!

YOU! YOU HAVE SINNED! I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR STEAMING loving GUTS OUT! I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU PAY! I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU loving PAYYYYYYyyyyyyy.

NOOOOO! OH GOD!

ARE YOU READY TO DIE?! ARE YOU loving READY TO ATONE FOR YOUR SINS?!

OH gently caress, I WANT TO LIVE! PLEASE!

I had never seen terror like this before. They actually thought they were going to die at my sword.

Most of them had regained their footing and had started to hop into cars.

I tore the helmet off, with my face covered in blood, I dropped to my knees and screamed.

AAAAARRRRRGGGHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Screaming. Squealing of tires. I stood up, cut the music and watched them ram each others cars as they got to the blocked entrance. Little did I know, Jim was getting in on the act. He had a Richard Nixon mask on with glowsticks taped to the sides.

I AM NOT A CROOK! I AM NOT A loving CROOK!

Eventually, cars started hopping the curb and peeling out down the road. I could hear screaming 4 blocks away and fading fast.

Jim drove over with a roll of paper towels and helped me clean the fake blood off and stow the costume and gear. We cleaned up like nothing had ever happened.

I heard from a reliable source that I showed up at the hight of a 36 hour LSD trip.

Some of the goth kids didn't leave their room for 2 days.

All of this was the first night of my last 2 weeks.

Mission accomplished.

[ahmonrah]

dayum! that's funny ! (i applied for that shit by the way, so dont fuck with me!)

[no control]

that nacho cheese one...hahahaha. +1 for the find.

*edit*
You must spread some Reputation around before giving it to DeutscheBAG! again.

shit...so much for the +1...i'll get you when i can, if i remember

[DeutscheBAG!]

def. read the Metallica story

[Hektik]

OK so i just sat here and read through that entire thread.. and all i can is wow... i highly reccomend reading this guys stories. for those of us who like novels and the such...

[Bishop]

OK so i just sat here and read through that entire thread.. and all i can is wow... i highly reccomend reading this guys stories. for those of us who like novels and the such...

yeah i read all of them last night. I never read books or anything but i just couldn't stop reading lol. Great stories.

[DeutscheBAG!]

OK so i just sat here and read through that entire thread.. and all i can is wow... i highly reccomend reading this guys stories. for those of us who like novels and the such...

same here..i stayed up al night reading this guys stories..great stuff..people are pushing him trying to make this inti a tv mini series or something

[BuBBa DRiFT]

wow dude i want to be a streetsweeper now, im glad i read this lol

[Hundo®]

LOL, those are funny as hell

[speedminded]

i've been waiting for this to make it over from the VW forum...meant to post it up last week! I say he should write a book

[BluesClues]

Wow those stories are great!!!!! Makes me wonder if one of his buddies were the one that tried to race me in a street sweeper and won because I didn't know we were racing lol

[00CelicaGT]

I thought thist one was pretty funny. lol



Jim, Fred, and a severed limb:

I was driving Jim around the back of the property where Fred lived. I decided that they should get well acquainted with one another and develop a stable working relationship.

Alright, be sure to clean by the dumpsters. That's important with this place.

By the dumpsters?

Yeah. You know, open the gate, go in there, and clean between them.

..oh...kay?

I'll be around front if you need me!

I sped off toward the front and started working. I figured it would only be a matter of minutes before Jim would come screaming around the corner, giant raccoon in tow.

Well, poo poo for sure, Jim came screaming around the corner. In fact, he was running so hard that he lost his footing and went rear end over teacups on the pavement.

BRUISER! BRUISER!

I got a knowing look on my face

What's the matter, Jim?

There's a goddamn.. THING back there!

Thing?

And... oh god. OH GOD, BRUISER!

By this point I was starting to get a little freaked out myself. It was a raccoon for God's sake.

Spit it out, Jim.

Bruiser... There's a raccoon back there.

Ye-

No. Listen. It's feeding on an arm.

...

A GODDAMN ARM, BRUISER!

Oh F U C K! Are you serious?!

LOOK AT MY GODDAMN FACE, MAN! I'M NOT KIDDING!

I ran as fast as I could around the back. The wind was catching the gate to the dumpsters. *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* . I got out the flashlight, took a deep breath, and opened the gate. In large sweeping motions, I bathed the area in light.

And there it was. A loving arm hanging out of the dumpster with Fred looking at me underneath it.

WHAT IN THE gently caress! OH GOD!

I tried to back peddle out of the area and ended up falling backwards. My eyes were drawn to the arm and back down to Fred. When I finally stopped screaming, I noticed something really odd about the arm. I stood up and inched closer to it.

*squeak squeak*

AHH! Oh jesus. What the gently caress is going on.

I reached out and gave it a tug. The entire drat thing fell to the ground with a hollow *whump*.

A loving mannequin arm. A loving mannequin arm with a note taped to it.

"Dear Bruiser,

Aren't paybacks a bitch?
-Jim
P.S. - you can thank Mark for the idea"

Behind me, Jim started clapping.

What the gently caress is that, Jim?!

A smug grin starts to cross his lips

That, Bruiser, Is how the job is done.

And that, my friends, is how I knew Jim was ready.

[NewGen33]

greatest material I've ever read