EVOC

This past week we studied for EVOC; the Emergency Vehicle Operators Course. There are 3 EVOCs that our class would take: I - Light Utility, II - Ambulance, and III - Fire Engine/Truck. There are two others but they are for specialized equipment, and require a different drivers license.

Each class member could sit for any or all of the three tests, or they could take none. I took all three just because there was no reason not to.

That's right bitches, I can drive the big truck now*. FTW!

I think it's important to take a moment here and explain FTW, and how it came to be in this journal:

FTW is 'For the Win'. The term originated from the least hip and cool show ever, 'Hollywood Squares', e.g. "I'd like Whoopi Goldberg for the win." The dearth of even an iota of cool in this show, of course, puts the term in the stratosphere of cooldom. (Now that I'm aware of it, however, I'm quite sure the kids will extricate it from their vernacular with the ruthless efficiency of an organ harvester.)

I came to be aware of this acronym while driving in a local college town behind a teen-ish girl with the license plate "STFU FTW". Of course, I'm pretty familiar with the first acronym - I use it ad nauseum. But FTW threw me. "Fuck the World?" - Nah, the girl didn't look angry or disenchanted. "Free Tibet, Whitey?" - Didn't see the accompanying Richard Gere or Beastie Boys stickers. I was stumped, so I had to ask. This of course meant I had to catch her, get her attention, and slow down to a speed where she could hear my inquiry. I attempted this at unsafe speeds using unconscionable technique befitting a getaway driver, not an established professional like myself**. I got my answer though.***

Which brings us back to the driving test. This past week I have sat in two classroom lectures, been out with two duty crews, and trained with two ambulance drivers, all for the purpose of preparing for EVOCs I, II, and III. I learned a valuable lesson during this period: "Don't tell people when you think you'll be done". Not once did I get home when I said I would. My wife was mostly cool about it at first, but became less so when our Saturday plans started to be jeopardized.

The fire and rescue sub-culture is not really so much into making sure all is well on the homefront. It is largely left up to the firefighter to handle that. My wife digs me, but, being a secure and confident grown-up, she does just fine when I'm not there. That is, of course, operating under the assumption that there isn't a PLACE TO BE. If there is a PLACE TO BE then all bets are off - my person better be available and accessible toot-sweet.

The EVOC testing started at 8am, I was scheduled for 9am. At 9:45 am the instructors just about had the course fully set up and ready for testing. I didn't even bother calling my wife at that point to say I was going to be late, because I knew I'd have to call again and adjust the time repeatedly. I just pushed it out of my mind and hoped for the best.

I was the first to drive the engine, which was odd since the 8am guys hadn't gone yet. They seemed more than happy to let me go first, however, since the instructors were getting a bit cranky at that point. I'm sure my fellow students wanted me to be the first kill to satiate the beast, after which, they would saunter by unassumingly and pass with flying colors. Sorry fuckers, not today.

I'd be humble here, but that firetruck was my bitch and I treated her thusly. She did exactly as I said and I owned that fucking course. Ditto the ambulance. CHEEKY instructor showed up later to get certed on the engine and he killed at least 3 cones while I was watching. I may be a poser, and he may be all firefighty and shit, but that victory was mine (in all fairness, he didn't know we were competing, in fact, he didn't even see me drive, in fact, I wouldn't have mentioned this at all if I were to have lost).

At some point things started to go more smoothly, people were testing quicker and the schedule was slowly catching up. Confidence was high that I would make it home in time.

This improvement in the situation must have alerted the instructor to efficiencies that were working, so he adjusted accordingly by bringing everything back to a slow crawl. He decided to go ahead and take the EVOC I truck - the one remaining truck upon which I had yet to be certified - back to the fire station so a student could fill out a form. One student. One form. It would take two minutes.

Still sitting at the station an hour later, I decided to call my wife. On the surface, it wasn't an uncomfortable discussion at all. Her voice was very sweet, and accommodating. She told me just to do my best and make it back as soon as I could. She was so sweet, yet, underneath that soft lilting tone was the sound of the sword of Damacles coming dislodged from it's perch.

Finally we all left the firestation in the EVOC I truck with me driving. I pulled into the testing parking lot and didn't hesitate, rolling right into the course. I rode it flawlessly (I really can't be sure about this, I was doing like, 190) in the EVOC I truck in record time (nobody was keeping time). When I was finished, in one fluid motion I threw that thing into park, got the instructor to sign off on my runs, and bailed into my moving car (it wasn't moving) and headed home.

I was 2 hours and 45 minutes late. Not too late for the PLACE TO BE. Burrowing through my mental bag of explanations and leniency-garnering techniques, I chose the hang-dog expression as my primary defense and walked inside...
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* Don't worry, this step is a formality, I won't be driving to fires for a really long time. Also, I haven't actually gotten the results back from my written exam, so I might very well be sitting through the class again. But I soldier on, assuming the best.
** I'm not that well-established
***As an aside, when I finally got the girl's attention, her pinky finger was knuckle deep in her left nostril. So chicks, cats out of the bag, you do it too.