(2018-11-14) Scot Road Truckers
Heather tries to convince Pate of the benefits of his own television show.

Heather has seen the possibility of another television show. The story of a grumpy truck driver and his life on the road. That grumpy truck driver being Pate. Managing to track him down, she has invited him round to the studio to discuss it. He will be admitted and given a temporary security pass to get into the bowels of the station. Heather is running a bit late, but she finally heads into the meeting room, ear mic on and offering a professional smile. "Hey, thanks for coming in." She sits down and is already typing on her iPad. "I was interested in what you had to say at the Stone B&B. Your job. I hope you remember that conversation." A little laugh at that. "Would you like a drink or something?"

It looks like Pate tried to clean up a little.

His clothes are washed. His beard isn't quite as angry. He might have even gotten a haircut. It's hard to tell: cavemen look so everyday every day. "Uh, sure, sure." Beat. "It, uh — you know, doing what I do — " The Scotsman shoves his hands into his pockets. " — is, uh — well, it's not exactly spectacular work, Ms. McCormack." Beat. "And, uh — " He pulls a hand out to make a furtive gesture. " — no, no, no drink now, I don't think, not now."

He seems a little anxious.

It's sort of like bringing a cat into a new home, in a way. Pate looks around nervously, like he's expecting something to jump out of him from the civilized corners of the world. "I remember the conversation, lass, but I — well, you don't honestly think that — " He laughs for a second. " — I mean, look at me, yeah? I know — I know them Duck Dynasty fellas had their thing, but I — " Shrug. " — you know, I'm not — I don't think anyone'd be interested in watchin' a show about what I do, yeah?"

So modest.

"Why don't you tell me what you do and I could decide if it's interesting or not" Heather smiles sweetly. "People do have an interest in different lifestyles, especially if we can create drama in them. You drive trucks long distance, sometimes in hazardous weather or conditions. That, in itself, could be interesting television. And there is also the travelogue aspect. Meeting people on the road, hearing their stories too."

"No need to be nervous" Heather assures him, surprised she isn't the one feeling worried. "What do you think of that idea? If you're flat out against it, then we can stop the idea here and now. No one wants to make you do something you don’t want to do. But there'll be no acting or anything, just a couple of cameras to record you journey. Maybe we could at least do a pilot?"

Pate clicks his tongue in his mouth.

"Welp." Shrug. "I mean, I'm gonna be fair." He looks around and finds a nice place to lean. A wall does nicely. "Yeah, I drive. Sometimes close, sometimes far." He rubs his beard with a hand gently, thinking about what to say next. "But, sometimes, I don't just drive. I stop, I visit — get into trouble, I guess." He grins crookedly for a second. "Friend of mine said it sounds like I get into adventures, but — " Shrug. " — not quite."

It's not the whole truth, either.

"I suppose, like — if you want — you could, ah — we could do a pilot? Something, like — " Another shrug. " — whatever you'd like, I guess." Beat. "I travel a lot in the area, yeah? Las Vegas, Los Angeles, San Antonio." West and East. "But, um — there's a lot of, like, not-so-legal things along the way, yeah? Lot lizards and shit."

And then, he sort of looks ashamed, like he's said too much.

"Adventures is exactly what we're after" Heather grins. "Please, Pate, have a seat." A gesture to one of the chairs opposite her. "Getting in trouble is called 'drama'" she assures him before smiling about his willingness to do a pilot.

And then there's mention of illegal activities and Heather sighs. "Do you smuggle? Run stuff you shouldn't?" A deep breath as she sits back in her chair to consider this. "I guess you'll have to turn off the cameras when you need to." It doesn't look like she's happy about it, but neither does it seem she's going to call the police anytime soon.

"I don't always smuggle," says the Scotsman, a little defensive.

"Much easier to do legit work, yeah? But dodging the bobbies pays well." Pate lifts himself off of a wall, and slowly makes his way to a chair opposite the desk. "Keeps my wallet lined, not that I've much to spend on." And he eases into that chair. "So, yeah, you do what you do, but I can make sure I'm not gonna be in trouble. A little harder to keep the lizards from my door."
He lifts an eyebrow.

"If you don't mind me asking, why're you so keen on the idea? I'm no ice trucker. Most of the drama I get into happens when I'm knackered or radge, and some idjit gets in my face about something stupid." Snort. "Then, yeah, I take of myself, I do. Do what you have to. That happens more often than I'd like to admit to you, to be honest." Fights? Him? Naaaaah, he doesn't look like the type that fights.

"Got a wee temper at times, I do."

"Maybe this will help both of us then?" Heather suggests. "Keep you clean…er, and keep the fights to a minimum, as well as give you another legal income. For me, I get a show about the life of a trucker. If it doesn't work out, then no harm done, but if it does, it is something exciting and local. You could even become a local celebrity." She seems to think that is a good thing.

"Oh, I'm sure you don't have a temper at all. Probably a sheep in wolf's clothing" Heather teases lightly. "The bobbies?" That makes her smile. "That is the kind of character we're looking for. Unique. Interesting. You don't think you're interesting? And if you don't have anything to spend on, why go for the higher paying illegal jobs?"


Pate thinks on the offer. And the rest of the words and questions. "You know, I started on the whole being-an-adult thing when I was too old." Grunt. "Won't be doing what I do forever, yeah? So, I want to make sure I've got something to fall back on." Shrug. "Besides, so what? Every does something illegal or immoral, yeah? Shipping things, doesn't hurt anyone." Not directly at least. "I make sure the shit gets where it needs to be, and then I'm done, gone. If not me, it'd be some other daft knob who'd probably fuck up and get killed."

"I keep my nose clean."

He scratches the tip of his nose for a moment, speaking of which. "If I agree, does that mean you'll be the one doing the filming?" He may have wiggled his eyebrows. "That sounds like fun." And then, he laughs coarsely. Because that's what needs to happen at that very moment, that's why.

A character, sure.

"I think we'll probably have Go-Pros for the most part. One in the cabin, one on the front of the truck, one you can carry around. If need be, we'll send a camera man with you" Heather explains, "Though they won't be with you all the time. I don't do filming." She is the channel owner after all. Wiggling eyebrows? Oh dear.

"So I think that was a 'yes' to the pilot. Great, I'll get some contracts drawn up. I would really love to get a trip in the bad weather. Obviously, don't drive when it is dangerous…just a little dangerous? If we could link it up with a Christmas shipment of some kind that would be perfect. Getting through the harsh weather so kids could enjoy the season." She makes some notes on her iPad. "I could even organise that myself. Any questions, Pate?"

Aw, flirting fail.

The old man doesn't seem to mind much. "Nope." Shrug. "Just go with it, I guess. You, ah — well, when you've got what you want drawn up, lass, you've got my number, my card. I'll come by and sign, and we can test this, ah — this thing out." He seems a little skeptical about the process, but the lure of easy side-money helps. Money is money, and, of course, legal money is probably preferable. "If it works, then I suppose we'll be in business, yeah? Guess I should stop hanging out at the Eternity so much."

That's the local stripper joint.

The trucker gets up to his feet curtly. "Well, then. With no questions, I guess I'll just wait for your next call, Ms. McCormack." He rubs the back of his neck gently for a moment. "And, ah — well, I suppose, then, it's a pleasure to be doing business with ya?" Right? "I mean, I hope I work out. Not that I won't, but you know."

He seems the sort of man that doubts his ability to do things right.

Heather stands, offering him her hand to shake. "You can hang out at Eternity as much as you like. Maybe I'll see you down there" she smiles. "I'm glad we'll be in bed together." It's a business metaphor! "You'll be fine. If it doesn't work, we move on, and no harm done. If it does work…you might get free lap dances out of it. I hear television stars get that kind of thing."

"We'll be in touch very soon, I promise. Do you have any trips lined up at the moment?" Heather asks. "And we need to get you on 'Wake Up, Calaveras' to do some promotion too. That shouldn't be a problem, should it?"

"Nah, I'm gonna take a few days here."

Pate presses his lips together, reaching out to shake Heather's hand with all of the firmness one might expect. His grip's strong, and his palms rough and hard. "Thank you, Ms. McCormack. Here's to hoping that things go well between us. Don't imagine we'll have much problems, but — " He snorts. " — I am a bit new to this."

Just a bit.

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