After downing a pot roast and mashed potatoes special with a slice of chocolate cream pie at a diner on U.S. Route 1 in Elizabeth, N.J., my friend Charlie strolled out the door and around back where the trucks were parked. His wasn't there. It never had been.
"My truck has been stolen," he told the cashier. "Can I use your phone to call the police?"
Less than three months after getting into the drayage business as an owner-operator, Charlie was out. He could finally get a decent night's sleep. He was a happy man. He was also a felon.