Pavement princess's are women who, instead of working the corner, work truck stops. Truckers, stop workers, and just people passing through share their strange encounters with these working women. Who knew all of this craziness was happening at truck stops?
"I used to travel from Texas to Minnesota on a harvesting crew. One night, I was the first truck to deliver my last load, and I was instructed to wait at the truck stop in Big Springs, Nebraska. At the time, I was 20 years old and naive to the world. I parked my truck at the far end of the lot and fiddled with my lights trying to turn them off while the truck was running. I got my lights off and hopped in the sleeper to relax and wait.
Five minutes later, my passenger door opened and a woman climbed into the seat. She looked to be around 30, and had probably been attractive in her earlier years, but had definitely been 'rode hard and put up wet.'
I asked her what she was doing, and she responded 'That's your call, baby.' I sat up as she climbed into the sleeper and sat next to me. I had no idea what was going on. She scooted closer and placed her hand on my knee, and commented on how young and 'fresh' I was. I told her I had no idea what was going on, and she must be mistaken.
'You're just nervous, I get it. You wouldn't have flashed me over if you didn't want it.'
At this point, I realized what was going on, and told her to leave. She was angry and demanded money for wasting her time. She eventually left unsatisfied, and not a penny richer.
It wasn't until I told the guys in my crew what happened that I truly understood what had happened. They filled me on in how I signaled her by flashing my lights. The next morning, I saw her climbing out of a truck as I walked by with coffee. I waved to her."
"I want to pay homage to my favorite woman I've met on the road, Snow White. I was not a trucker and never experienced her services. I worked at a rather well-known truck stop doing maintenance, specifically on the showers. I'd listen to truckers and sleeper leapers do it in the showers every day.
We had an old video game in the back that Snow White had figured out was broken (player two could play for free). We didn't have a sign telling anyone else. She used to pretend as if she was buying a game for a trucker in the waiting room and use that as her way in.
Well, on my lunch break one day, I asked if I could play. We continued that trend a couple times a week for the next few months. She told me all of her crazy stories including how she has used her body to get to nearly every state in America (including a flight to Hawaii).
One day, she didn't show up. Then another day passed. Then another. Then a sign popped up on the window. Missing: and It had her real name and Alias: Snow White.
It cut me deep. I sure hope she is okay. She was a good person. I hope she didn't finally get into the wrong truck. She was never heard from again."
"I am not a trucker, but I did work at a truck stop. Do I have stories? It was a Sunday night. We just got finished with the 11 p.m. Sunday rush. As I'm walking back into the store, a truck pulls up. I turn around a little annoyed and start fueling the guy up. He's just messing with me, and the truck starts rocking. I stop fueling and ask him if he can stop the truck shaking so I don't spill.
The passenger side door opens up, and this 60-year-old looking woman stumbles out to the ground below. Torn jeans, ripped, white cotton blouse, high heels, dyed blond hair, smudged bad makeup and a dead fox wrapped around her neck. She joins us in the conversation. I'm almost done filling the truck up when the trucker and the woman say they're going to go in and eat. He asks for a shower key 'for the lady,' and I tell him to ask the cashier for it.
So she goes and showers, he follows her to pay and then follows her again to the shower. The store is a small store. The adult entertainment is next to the chocolate, and the motor oil is on the same shelf as the beef jerky. About five minutes after they get in the shower, you can hear her howling at the top of her lungs and he's grunting like he's starting a lawn mower that won't start. Then you hear her shout 'Yeah. Yeah, that's right! You bang my filthy cat!' The waitresses next door came over to find out what was going on. That's how loud she shouted that line.
So they finish up and go next door to eat. About a half hour later, I see her come out and use the bathroom. He comes rushing out about a minute later and says 'So long! Take care of 'er for me. Tell her sorry for not smuggling her into the US. I'm not going to jail.' He gets in his truck, throws her stuff out the door, and he's gone. I go out and pick her junk up off the ground and bring it to the counter.
She came out about 10 minutes after she went in. She looks out the window and back to us and says 'Aww. My ride left me. Such a sweet guy. Can I stay in here?' I say no and inform her of the company's policy. So she asks if she can stand outside until she finds a ride, and I tell her that'll be fine. She gets her stuff and goes out.
So 2 a.m. rolls around and she's still out front. I go out to take care of the late-night rush. She follows me to the pumps, and I tell her that she can't be at the pumps for insurance reasons. When the rush is finished, she asks me if I'll take her for a ride to the US. I told her that I can't because my shift isn't done and she says 'Aww come on. I'll give you a gummy or a grindy. Free of charge.' And she pulls out the left half of her teeth, top, and bottom. I walk into the truck stop laughing and struggling to breathe. Once I catch my breath, I tell everyone what just happened.
About a half hour later she found her ride. I never saw her again."
"I'm not a truck driver, but I was in logistics management for 12 years. I once worked for was a furniture transportation company. We picked up furniture at our warehouse in North Carolina, and then made deliveries on the way back to California. We would fill up another load for them in California and send them back out towards North Carolina.
I was the second-shift supervisor. So not only did I have to watch my guys, but I also had to make sure drivers coming in and out of our yard at night were dropping trailers in the right spots and leaving with the correct loads. I also was the guy to call if a driver needed a Comchek. For those that don't know, we used Comchek's to give drivers advances on their pay when they were on the road. It was common for drivers to call for a Comchek when they were on a long haul and payday is near. It was mostly owner-operators calling for them to pay for fuel.
One night, this specific driver calls for a Comchek. I give him $100. The next night he calls for another $100. No problem. I make it happen. The next afternoon, I am just showing up, and he is calling day dispatch requesting another $100. Day dispatch asks the other dispatcher and she says what the heck, I gave him $100 yesterday afternoon. I was like shoot, I gave him $100 the last two nights. In two days he had taken out four Comchek's for $100. The head dispatcher knew what was up, and gets back on the line with him. He says 'LEAVE THOSE FREAKING LIZARDS ALONE! No more money for you! Then hung up the phone.'
When he came back from his run, his wife was waiting for him. She heard through the grapevine and decided she was going to go out with him on his runs from then on. Well, he turned into one of our faster drivers once he had a babysitter."
"While attempting to call it a night in Atlanta, Ga., I stopped at a Petro. Unfortunately, the lot was full, but I always liked Petro because they had The Iron Skillet. Back when I was eating that stuff, their chicken fried steak was awesome.
On the street outside of the high, chainlink fence surrounding the property, a few fellow truckers decided to risk it on the street for the night. This old, toothless, black man with a long, gray beard approaches my driver side window. I'm just sitting there finishing my log book.
'Can I clean your rims?'
'No thanks, here's two bucks though.'
'Are you sure you don't want your windows washed?'
'Are you sure you don't need anything?'
'Are you sure?' (Starts pantomiming a handy)
That's when it occurred to me, I should get back on the road and give that Pilot stop a peek a few miles up. My girlfriend gave him a name 'Captain Gums McPricksuck.'"
"I was a driver from 2004-2007. I never had anything to do with lady lizards, and honestly, the runs I did usually took me to places where they weren't very common. However, I did have one encounter that stuck with me.
There's a huge truck stop on I-80 outside of Davenport, Iowa. It's normally pretty clean, and lizards weren't something I saw much of there. In February 2005, I rolled in there just ahead of a snowstorm that would be called a blizzard anywhere but the Great Plains. I hate putting on chains, so I stopped early, got a personal pan pizza at the Pizza Hut, and settled in with movies and my iPod until morning.
About 3 a.m., I was woken up by someone banging on the side of the truck. Since everyone from mechanics to DOT does this, you pretty much have to respond - you do not want to ignore a State Trooper. I went to the door, and it's a lady lizard, wearing six-inch heels, a mini-skirt about eight inches long, a tube top about four inches wide, hoop earrings big enough to put a baseball through, and so much makeup it looks like she put on Lowe's house-paint.
She also looked about 13 years old. And not in an 'aww yeah' kind of way - in an 'I am a victim of trafficking' kind of way.
'It's cold, can I get into your truck to warm up' is one of the oldest lines in the book, and I had roundly cursed a number of ladies who had tried to use this one on me before. But this one - I wasn't sure she wasn't 13. It could have been that scrawny, illegal substance look, but something about her didn't seem that hardened. So I told her she could get in, but only to warm up - she had to take a blanket, and she had to stay in the passenger seat.
After about 10 minutes, it was pretty clear she wasn't 13, but she wasn't much older either. She was 16, her name was Molly, she had run away from home in Missouri, and knew someone who made $800/night doing this. It was her first night, and I was literally her first attempt at turning a trick - I thought that might be a line too at first, but as we kept talking, it became pretty clear she had no idea what she was doing.
After about two hours of talking, I got her to agree to go with me to the ministry in the truck stop. They had resources on combating trafficking and were able to get hold of the right people from the state to help her get home.
I had to leave that morning, but I asked her to email me if she got home. She did. She still sends me updates now and then."
"I was about an hour South of Dallas at this nonchain stop with a Wendy's. I'm walking back with my double and fries and see this fairly attractive woman knock on a truck door. She goes in, and 10 minutes later comes out with a bottle of Sprite. Knocks on the next door, 10-15 minutes later hops out of that one. Before she goes for her third, she squats down and 'washes out her business' with the Sprite.
This was at about 1 p.m., and I was driving midnight-noon. When my co-driver got back in, I told him to lock the doors before I went to bed.
I had strange dreams that night. I'd seen the unicorn. The chupacabra. I had seen an attractive pavement princess."
"I am not a long haul driver, but I have had a few run-ins. Last summer, I had gone to a gas station with a coworker to fill up on gas. When I was on my way to walk inside, this woman with long red and matted hair kept just staring me down. I said 'evening, ma'am' and went inside. As I got inside, I turned and looked and she was still staring. I went about my business, grabbed a drink, and was fixing up a hotdog when I saw she was still staring.
I turned to my coworker and told him she was being a creeper. My coworker just replied with she was just admiring my young beauty until a few minutes later when he too noticed she was acting weird towards me. As we went to leave, I mentioned to the clerk that they had a doozy on their hands. The clerk said she had run some people off and had been there for three days prior to this one.
As I went to turn around and leave, she was pressed up against the doors holding them shut and staring at me. I motioned with my hand for her to move and she took a step back. I blew through the left exit door and sprinted back to the truck. The next night, I hadn't seen her before work and thought she had left but that night I had to get a pack of smokes and some gas. I entered and exited and never saw her until I was about to leave.
As I put the fueling pump away, I could feel somebody had come up behind me and it was her. I just slowly turned as I opened the door, and she tried to force her way into my truck. Luckily, another coworker was at the pump next to mine and forced her off of me, and a police officer was there to help assist and put her in his squad car.
Ever since then, I tend to stay away from that place. I'm a big guy, but Jesus Christ, I couldn't move an inch due to the sheer fear."
"I'm not a truck driver, but I am the son of one. My dad was a long-haul driver from Ontario, Canada. He would make two-week trips to the states all the time, and bring my brother or me along once in awhile.
I clearly remember (when I was about 8) being laid over in Boston for a night. He parked the truck behind the warehouse we were supposed to deliver to around midnight. We both got out to brush our teeth (water bottles and toothpaste) and go pee between the truck and trailer. I finished first and was waiting by the headlights when I notice this woman walking towards us. My dad quickly finishes before she gets there and sends me in the truck. I'm sitting in the driver's seat, and I hear him arguing with her, telling her to just go away, not interested, happily married. She finally leaves. He comes in and we crawl into bunk to sleep. About two hours later there are cops banging on the truck door.
Apparently, this woman had told the police that both my father and I had both tried to 'pee all over her face.' After about five hours of questioning, they let us go.
It was my first experience with crazy. I had never met anyone like that before, and I'll never forget it."
"I was in the southbound rest area on I-75 by Bowling Green, Ohio, with my Golden Retriever, Ozzy, as my copilot. That dog was the best copilot I ever had, although he did acquire a taste for lot lizards.
At 3 a.m. one night, a lot lizard bangs on the door, asks if I want to party, and then opens the door. That's when she found out my copilot was canine. Ozzy grabbed her by the wrist, and she slammed the driver's door on that dog at least three times before he let go.
I crawl over to the CB to let folks know there's a lot lizard opening doors on trucks when I hear this 'Don't go near that black Peterbilt, the son-of-a has a dog in there.' I responded by telling her she was lucky, a lot of drivers carry weapons.
Anyway, my dog never slept when I did again. When I'd go to bed for the night, he'd sit on the doghouse between the driver and passenger seat and watch out the windshield all night long. When I got up and the truck started moving, he'd crawl back in the sleeper and crash.
Like I said, best copilot I ever had."
"Memphis is a sketchy town after dark, so it's one of those cities I always tried to avoid sleeping near when possible. It's getting pretty late, and I am 70 miles outside Memphis, so I figure it is time to shut it down for the night. I pulled into a gravel lot (this becomes important) across the road from a truck stop I had been to before. I had been here several times and never had any problems before.
As I am backing into a spot in the back row, I see a girl walking towards my truck. She's a pretty, young petite with brunette hair if I remember correctly. She was dressed pretty much the way I expected. She was wearing a short spaghetti strap tank top with a thin white blouse over that and a short thigh length printed wrap like you would find at the beach for a skirt. She approached my driver's doors as I set the brakes and shut down the motor. I knew what I expected her to ask and I knew my answer. I looked down at her and she said 'Excuse me, do you have a bandage?'
That was not what I had expected. I must have had a strange look on my face because she pulled the blouse off of her right shoulder to reveal some cuts and scrapes. I turned on my work lights and got out of the truck. Using a cloth and bottled water, I cleaned up her shoulder and arm. Then from my first aid kit, I took some salve and bandages and patched her up.
I told her I had some iodine if she wanted to get clean her cuts. She asked if it would hurt? 'Ummmm yes.' 'Nope, just the salve and bandages please.'
We maintained a pleasant conversation about the injuries while I worked. Apparently, she had been thrown off the side of a truck that night. Some truckers just have no manners. When I thought I was done, she pulled the wrap down a few inches and there were more scrapes on the top of her hip bone, so I rinsed and repeated the process. While doing this, I noticed that she had pulled the wrap below her navel, and I recognized what I saw immediately. I asked her 'How many kids do you have?' Her, very angry 'How did you know!? Who told you!?'
I needed to calm her down ASAP. The last thing I needed was an angry lot lizard accusing me of anything. Who knew a herniated navel was so incriminating? 'My wife has the same belly button.'
She proceeded to tell me about her son, how old he was, and why she was in the profession. I told her I didn't think there was anything wrong with her job, but she might want to find a new job for her son's sake. It just wasn't safe for her. When all was said and done, she just turned around and walked away. I don't remember if she even said thank you or anything like that. I do remember being a little disappointed. I thought a discount was in order even though I still would have said no. I guessed she was done for the night.
I put everything away and climbed back into my truck. I proceeded to waste time doing something completely unremarkable. After an hour had passed, low and behold who do I see climbing into the truck beside me? Yep. Ms. Beach Skirt. It was right then that I realized something that I have remembered the rest of my life. I am so ugly I can't get hit on by a lot lizard."
"I am not a trucker, but I did have an encounter with a lot lizard when I was a kid.
I was with my dad, and we were driving out to West Texas to a deer lease when I had to use the restroom. The only place to stop was some dingy Love's truck stop. I went into the men's room while my dad was picking up snacks and drinks, and there was this really old skinny woman waiting by one of the stalls in there. She shooed me away saying 'Sorry honey, the bathroom is closed' or something like that.
I went back out to my dad and told him there was a strange woman in the bathroom that wouldn't let me pee. He gave me an incredulous look then went in to check. He came storming out 10 seconds later and was the angriest I had ever seen him in my young life. He went up to the front desk and completely chewed out the manager, then went and literally kicked the lizard and some guy out of the bathroom.
I went to the bathroom at the end and got free snacks, a couple of Dr. Peppers, and some Hotwheel cars for our troubles."
"As a solo female long-haul driver in her mid-20s, my lot lizard stories were composed entirely of me being mistaken for a lot lizard by other drivers. Drivers would walk past me really fast without making eye contact and whisper under their breath 'How much?'
Took me a while to realize what they were asking. I was like 'Are you talking to me? How much for what ?' Until I figured out - oh, they think I'm a lot lizard! Funny. Then I ordered myself all company gear from head to toe, with my company logo on there. All good after that.
It never bothered me much, as I know it gets lonely for men on the road and women of the night work hard for their money too. As long as it's not child trafficking and/or forced work, I have no problems with lot lizards."
"Not a trucker, but I work for a third party claims administrator that handles specifically trucking claims. Got a claim in where the guy burned his truck down.
'How did it happen?'
'Well, it was a lonely night. So I brought this lot lizard into my cab. I wanted it to be romantic and all so I lit a candle. We got to doing the stuff. And well, the candle managed to catch the cab on fire and then the whole truck. I was just lonely.'
Felt bad for the guy."