Pre-She-Ate-It-Dry-Fur

Lucky truck that grabbed the last pull-thru
Must have pulled in here at half past two.
A lot have been here most of the day,
Sitting about, no miles, no pay.
I’m driving round in the pouring rain,
When you finish late, always the same.

They never build ‘em big enough,
Just one spot left that’s ultra-tough.
Probably a drivers biggest ask,
I only hope I’m up to the task.
It sorts out the truckers from the rest,
One day it might be part of the test.

Under the gaze of a hundred eyes,
It could take more than a dozen tries.
Not time and place to get it wrong,
Better not have the CB on.
Best to start with the angles right,
We’re talking inches, it’s oh-so tight.

Then above all the noise of fridges’ humming,
A voice at the back; shouts “Keep it coming.”
Getting wet, out there in the dark,
A guardian angel is helping me park.
“Pre-She-Ate-It-Dry-Fur.”