Here is an early attempt that I had printed from facebook before I deleted it. I found it while unpacking some boxes.
The story is real but the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
It's early morning and I am rolling out of bed before I even remember where I am or what I am supposed to do. Turns out its another motel room in Central Alberta. Shower time, get dressed, pack my bags, push the command start to warm up the truck, leave the room key on the T.V. and I'm out the door. But before I go, where is my pen and paper? This is what I write:
To the occupants of room #17:
Thanks for the wake up at 1:30am, thanks for the car horn at 2:30am, and thanks for not shutting your fucking mouths until 3:45am.
You pot smoking fuckwads, you are lucky I didn't call the cops, some of us have to work for a living!
To the female in the room: You are a slut and should be ashamed of yourself. I look forward to seeing you on the web at wvw.crackwhore.com.
Then its out the door, slip the note under the offending parties' wiper blade and I am gone. I guess you could say I am pissed, who wouldn't be? And people wonder why some go "postal".
I have a new job to go to but first I need to swing by the current one to make sure the crew gets started on time and to satisfy myself that they will be done by tonight like they said they would. The crew shows up minus one member after he rolled his semi last night while working for another client. He can't come until its fixed. Just great, where am I going to find someone that wants to work for only one day in -45c temperatures? I find one and when he shows up I safety orientate him and I finally get back on the road.
Its not looking good: I have 600km to go and its starting to white-out with blowing snow. I try to drive safe, but my stomach starts to turn at the thought of an icy Deerfoot during the noon rush in Calgary. And that's exactly what's going to happen if I don't start pokin' on er'.
Get through Calgary OK, but some idiot wants to use me as his personal radar detector and won't pass even though it looks like he will tag my bumper at any moment. I want to spike my brakes to teach him a lesson, but then remind the kid in me that I am not 20 anymore. Great...now I have to relieve myself, the steady drive while nursing 2 cups of coffee and a big water bottle have taken their toll. Now if I could just find the right place...there is a trick to peeing on the side of the road, I usually get off the highway a bit, down a country road, turn around then its out the door to do the deed. I f somebody happens to drive by I try to make it look like I am checking the tires or taking a stretch, but they know that I know that they know, so who cares? Thank god I am not female, I don't know how they can do it.
I finally get to the site, the office has already called and wants to know when it will be ready...I give the standard catskinner answer as diplomatically as I can: It will be done when its done, but agree to speed things up if I can. The crew is all here, but they have started without me, not good, and as I later find out, this will bite me in the ass over a trespass that nobody caught until too late. For now I gather everybody together and do an abbreviated tailgate meeting so that everyone knows that under no circumstances are they to A: run over each other or B: run over the wellhead. Why do I do this? Well it goes like this: At some future date I am on the witness stand and a smartass lawyer will ask me: "Do you mean to say that you did not specifically tell my client that he was not supposed to run over the well-site facilities? Did you happen to notice that my client is a 50 year old alcoholic with the maturity of a 10 year old? Your company has a policy against drinking in the workplace does it not?"
With the semantics out of the way I need to review the file that was bussed to me the day before and make sure I cross off all the "to do's". The phone rings, its the trucking company that will be moving the drilling rig. The dispatcher wants to know if they can drop a few loads off since my office has told him that should be OK. He doesn't get to hear what I really want to say, but I do tell him that unless he is moving this rig by helicopter there will be no loads dropped off because the road isn't even built. This is turning out to be a fine day!
Phone rings again, its the Vice President for the oil company. After a site visit the previous day he noticed that the road may be in the wrong spot. He asks me to check my survey plan. Oh my god! What looked like a botched line on a bad fax is actually the real boundary. I am informed that we have trespassed 7m onto a section of land that is (was) protected. The natives have to be informed and an environmental group owns the land. The whole project is very sensitive. I like to think that I can bullshit most anyone, but believe me this one is hard to explain away and nobody is impressed. It is at this time that invoke rule #1 "Never pass the buck". And I don't.
The day is almost over before I realize I haven't booked a motel room.Does the fun ever start? Half an hour later and about a dozen calls to directory assistance because I don't have a phone book, I find a room and head into town dazed by the days events. Thats when a dozen deer run across the road in front of me, I slam on the brakes and manage not to hit any of them. As the adrenaline drains away and my heart begins beating normally again I start a new letter in my mind. This one will be to my MLA asking that the laws be changed to make it legal to shoot deer from the side of the road and from a moving vehicle if need be.
Check in at the new motel...I hope its quieter than the last one.
