How Humbling...

So recently I made the large mistake of driving my favorite ladder truck into a tree. Now it's not as if I lined her up, hit the gas and wrapped my chariot around a 100 year oak. But I came up on the driveway a little "hot," cranked the wheel and and BAM, "there's a fuckin tree branch right there." This is actually what I had said in my head after I hit the sumbitch.

Let's paint the picture:
I'm already late for work as I lay in bed, being a complete slacker. The tones go out for a structure fire, smoke and flames showing. For a second I contemplate my options, get up and go to work which pleases my employer or go to the fire, which pleases me and the pour sap who's house is a blaze.

I decide to attend the fire, explaining to myself that I'm probably the only driver available at this time in the morning, well at least the only one that can drive our ladder truck, yes our ladder truck is our first out, don't get me started. In it's defense it is a tele-squirt.

As I enter the station I hit the repeater on the pager one more time to verify the address, which I can't immediately picture in my mind, not a big deal now, so I thought. I throw on the my gear, somewhat hoping or expecting someone else to arrive and drive the truck, yes it's my wishful thinking that at some point in time I might actually get to play and not drive the damn truck all the time.

Somebody asks "where're we going." I hit the repeater one more time as I walk away to jump in the truck. As I'm pulling out of the station with my rag-tag of newbies, I realize that nobody brought a pager with and the address was not written down for me. It's no loss yet as we recite the address as we remembered it.

We cruise through town, lights and sirens wailing, I travel down the road anticipating that soon I will see the chief vehicles that have arrived prior to me, lighting the runway for me, so to speak. The road forks, East or West, I have no pager, asking for the address will get you nothing but grief and a bitchy response. The crew thinks East. Literally a second after I've turned, the chief is on the squawk box, "Are you on West...?" Me, "No, negative, I'm on East...!"
Chief, "Well the address is... West ...!"
Me, "Copy that, turning around, Sh." as I let go of the mic button.

I whip the truck around at the next intersection and I stand on the gas pedal. I'm livid at this point, I don't make mistakes, I don't fuck up, I certainly don't drive away from a house on fire!

I drive past the deputy's car that's blocking traffic for me, and approach the assistant chief that points out the driveway, I turn and FUCK, I just ripped a damn branch right off a pine tree and it's now hanging off of my ladder truck. My beloved ladder truck, I'm so sorry girl.

With the assistant chief screaming as usual the firefighters remove the branch and I continue to drive forward approaching the "house fire." I was livid when I flipped the coin and guessed wrong at fork, now I'm red hot, blood pressure through the roof I hear my pulse in my ears. As I look forward to what was dispatched as a structure fire and in reality will be much much less, no smoke, no fire. The crews found a little fire in an attic space, dropped a bucket of water on it and called it good.

So let's recap the mornings festivities:
I got up from bed, not to go to work, but to fight the "big one." I drove, which meant no firefighting for me, turned incorrectly and looked rather dumb and to top it off I sheared off a rather large branch from a what was a nice pine tree. All for a bullshit fire. If I had any idea of the amount of bullshit that this fire was I would have either stayed in my fucking bed or gone to work. I felt trapped in the movie Clerks, "I'm not even supposed to be here."

Pisses me off. Listen to your gut people, as I knew I should not have gone to that call, but I did and look what happens.

"Did we learn anything from this call?" was all I got from the cheif.

Then I was of course reminded that the next time this happens I should report to the "branch officer." Great, I can't wait until the annual banquet. Shit.