He smokes two packs of Pyramids a day and he’s almost always up before the sun he’s got to keep moving, if he wants to get paid. He drinks water, too, to stay awake, and the top of his dash is littered with crushed plastic water bottles. He’s got a 44-ounce mug and on any given day Ron drinks enough caffeine to kill a horse. ![]() Ron, who has a chatty and self-aware demeanor, drinks a lot. He was in the lot one time when a trucker came outside to discover his trailer had been stolen (one rule of the road is never talk about what you’re hauling, especially if it’s tobacco or cigarettes). There’s crime, too: he’s witnessed robberies, had friends who were held up. There are times he’ll get a knock on his door every half hour, each time from a different lot lizard. Prostitution is rampant in some of the smaller operations. He prefers to sleep at truck stops that are busy, big, and well lit. If it’s a cool summer night, he’ll crack his windows and kill the engine. In the dead of winter, he’ll leave the engine running overnight so he doesn’t freeze to death. ![]() Just like a roaming cowboy, Ron Bartoli is almost never home.
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