You're a rotten, sluggish, toxic creep. But i mean, what is there to be done?-- you're so damned cuddly. While this by no means excuses you of the good old fashioned protestant scorn-fest which you've long deserved, your humming, fuzzy warmth does buy you some time. I'm in a good mood. Who knows, maybe you'll shape up by the time this issue has time to be righteously dealt with. And besides, you do have a very likable tendency to "come in handy" and perhaps even will before i'm through here:
-but get this-
after a brief and surprisingly smooth conversation [by which i mean jocular, amiable, and not overly steeped in "awk-sauce", as they say] conversation with one Captain Ray Williamson, i had the pleasure to be sure that my until-then-presupposed Maine sailing exodus/apprenticeship was in fact a reality- a reality that which unlike many of its other manifestations is worth being elated about.
In any case, our dialogue wrought the following
- a “ballpark” departure to
- that time with them isn’t “a vacation”. [which luckily for both parties, I had not assumed] I take a certain amount of dumb-pride in labor. I can after all justify my employment with the Pretzel Factory by this mentality. An example that the Captain gave of my tasks was “uhh, y’know….peeling potatoes. Things like that”. I’m even excited for such stereotypically repetitive crap-work such as this. It’s romantic if nothing else. I do however hope that other, more exciting tasks are delegated to me. Could you imagine the comedy of getting up there to find that peeling various fruits and vegetables made up the whole of my work load? Anyhow…
-I’ve got to bring the uke:
When I had given my name and inquired whether or not he had a chance to review my resume, the Captain replied, “Ohh yeah, you’re the ukulele guy?” –
“Ha, yep. That’s me..blablabla, you know… just uhh, simple old rock-and-roll progressions..blablabla”.
I had mentioned the ukulele under the “Interests” subheading, knowing that crew and passengers alike are encouraged to bring whatever instruments that they might play. Capt. Williamson explained he had purchased a baritone uke on a trip to
The extent of my ability wasn’t discussed very far, but I’m pretty sure that our good Captain might believe me to be far more talented than I am. While this is nerve-wracking, it will at least give me the motivation to finally become more-than-half-proficient-at-best with the thing. I can take a challenge.
As is evident, the whole plan remains vague…I’ve relayed to you all the details I’ve been given. But my still-nebulous perception of it [lack of many important specifics, really] is by no means discouraging. One thing is solid- that they’re planning on me. The red tape and other details are bridges to be crossed when they’re gotten to. Until then I suppose I should day-dream, bone up on my knots etc., and annoy some roommates and neighbors.
www.mainewindjammercruises.com ought to fill you in on some of this goodness.
I’m sure I’ll report more as it progresses.
Internet, you’re lucky, you know that? I mean, not only are you cuddly and sometimes convenient, you’ve also help sate one of the basic and inherent needs of a young, ‘livin’ in the future’ male such as myself---the old vanity. Who else but you would entertain my horse-shit for this long? Bless your little heart.