We hit the road to do a job out of town. Two and a half well seasoned linemen, dawg#1, and dawg#2, and myself. We all have worked together off and on for about 15yrs. Let me explain two and a half, dawg#2, well, he had a hunting accident, which he shot his foot off. (thats another story)Anyway, he has a prostetic leg below the knee, ain't worth shit as far as climbing, but a pretty good bucket baby, he could make a T-40 sing. Dawg#1 and I could handle the climbing and dawg#2 be the grunt with the ATV. The job was far enough from home, that going home on weekends was out, and we had a dead line. After the first week, the customer I was working for, said that they were not going to pull in their inhouse crew,and that I could have the rest of the job. Well, thats good and bad, came prepaired for being gone 4 wks. Would have brought more gear and another bucket, and more hands, If, I would have known. I think that's called( PLANNING AHEAD!) But, anyway, just trying set the stage so that you get the story. After 8 wks of 10 to 12 hr days 6 days aweek, and doing any clean up we had on Sunday mornings, and afternoons off. Working, eating, drinking, and sleeping together(not actually sleeping together) and being away from home started taking it's toll on moral, and attitudes started taking shape. I, think it was the 9th week out, was finishing the potatos part of the job, and nothing but gravy left. I'm talking, nothing but oxygen in your way type gravy, (6 mi of drive off fiber on bare strand, 5 and 5, thats bugnut settings for any of you greenbeans out there). OK, I'm trying to make this as short as posible. Well, one morning after fiishing a highway crossing, dawg#2 boomed down from his pole and got out of the bucket and went and sat down on a rock, dawg#1 was sitting in the 40. Did I mention that attitudes were festering? After pulling the lasher to the other side of the highway, I waited a minute, the 40 wasn't moving, so I walked back over to the 40. Dawg#2 was sitting there on that rock with a hungover look on his face, Dawg#1 was still sitting behind the wheel of the 40. I walked over to Dawg#2 sitting on the rock, asked him "what the fuck, what do you want to do"? He said "that he wanted to go home", with an attitude! I said "we all want to go home, but we had to finish the job first, and gravy was all that was left". " No,I want to go home", was his reply. I said "get in the flatbed". Off to the motel we headed. "Pack your shit, your headed home", I said. Off to the bus depot we headed . Driving right by all that gravy on the way to the bus depot. Not a word was said the whole 35 min drive there. Once we pulled into the bus depot, I said, "well dawg#2 it looks like you just shot your other foot off". Dawg#2 didn't say aword, just got out of the truck. Got back to the job site, there sat Dawg#1, still behind the wheel of the 40. I asked him what he wanted to do? He said " go to work". I said "good anwser". End of story (I don't know if there is a moral to this story or not) But who the fuck cares!!!!
This is CABL.com posting #263293. Tiny Link: cabl.co/mbgEP
