The Home Depot Hitler
<p><strong>HEY!” “HEY, YOU CAN’T PARK HERE, ASSHOLE!”</strong> a deep voice echoed as a series of loud thumps on my door sprung me from my slumber.</p>
<p><em>What in tarnation?</em></p>
<p>Naturally curious to see who had their knickers in a knot, I slithered out of the sleeper, cracked the window, and peeked outside.</p>
<p>Ninety minutes prior, I was backed into the loading dock at The Home Depot along US Route 41 in Tampa, Florida.</p>
<p>This was the third and final delivery of a short run from Hotlanta to the Tampon after dropping a hot load of Red River Valley spuds the day before at the Atlanta State Farmers Market.</p>
<p><a href="https://medium.com/truckin-tales/the-home-depot-hitler-48d3b8d314be"><strong>Read More</strong></a></p>