I believe I was working over on a tug because someone got sick or injured. I was supposed to get off that day and did NOT want to get off in Bridgeport. I wanted to wait the maybe 6 or 7 hours to get off in New York which is where we were headed after the discharge was finished. It would be a LOT easier and besides I had heard the horror stories of crew changing in Bridgeport.
The regular crew had a deal with their reliefs that they would not change crew in Bridgeport. Both crews were veterans that knew if they lost a day here they'd gain it back there so they'd fudge payroll a bit to keep everything in sync. No dishonesty, really. The company wasn't being cheated. It was for the convenience of the crew.
I had told the office I did NOT want to get off in Bridgeport and to tell my relief NOT to relieve me in Bridgeport and even got his phone number (pre-cell phone days) and called him and told him NOT to relieve me in Bridgeport under ANY circumstances and he could have the day's pay if he needed it instead of getting me off in Bridgeport.
Needless to say, he showed up in Bridgeport waving my ticket to Philly and acting like he did me a HUGE favor. "I got you off early!" he said.
Dumb luck had the skipper sitting next to me in the galley when he popped in and the skipper took one look at my face and saw me ready to explode and snapped, "I got this, Pic."
He turned to my relief. "Mister, I hope you like chipping and painting because you are going to be doing a lot of it. You just upset the rhythm of the entire boat."
Then he turned to me and said, "It sucks but you gotta accept the relief."
I turned to my relief. "You're an asshole." and took my ticket.
"But the office said..." he protested.
"F**K the office!" the skipper and I shot back in unison. The skipper added, "They know how we operate. They gave you his ticket and YOU took it upon YOURSELF to come charging up here instead of cooling your jets and waiting until we got to New York! Don't you dare act like you did someone a favor. You're just being greedy and trying for an extra day's pay."
Anyway, I picked up my trash, wandered up to the waiting cab and arrived at the train station only to find out I had a 3 or 4 hour wait for the next train connecting to Philly. Needless to say, I was overjoyed and elated to find myself killing time and waiting at the station.
I considered going somewhere and doing something but didn't know the lay of the land and decided to not risk getting into trouble. I didn't know the neighborhood. In short I was screwed. I had to wait there.
I instantly took my ticket out of the envelope and put it in the inside pocket of my flight jacket next to my wallet and snapped the pocket shut and partially zipped it up. Then I started to throw away the envelope but thought better of it. I put it in my back pocket to give somebody something to steal. They'd steal it and try getting reimbursed in cash for it.
I also figured that when they found no ticket in it they'd simply throw it into a trash can. I was proven correct in my assumption because it was stolen and recovered in the same trash can three times over the course of my wait there.
I hadn't been there 20 minutes when some gay dude came up to me and offered me a blowjob. I didn't want to start trouble so I tactfully said that I wish I had known he'd be there but that I had jerked off five minutes before I left the house. He walked away quietly and uninsulted. It was a non event.
Ten minutes after that some really beat up looking whore came by and offered me the same thing for ten bucks. I told her that twenty minutes earlier I had gotten taken carre of by some gay dude I had met earlier. She went away uninsulted which was fine by me. Actually I didn't care just so long as she went away.
A few minutes later some guy was outraged and was griping his wallet had been lifted. He had the people call the police and some kind of bored looking LEO came by in a few mintutes and took his report which was probably a waste of time for both of them. Still, I suppose it made the guy feel a little better.
Like most of us, he didn't miss the cash he had lost. Now he had to go through all of the aggravation of canceling his credit cards and replacing his driver's license and so on. I felt bad for the poor guy.
I paced around bored to tears but knew I couldn't let my guard down for an instant. A pretty polished black man asked me if I knew when a certain train was due in and I told him I didn't have a clue. I suggested he ask at the counter and we had a brief chat. He told me he hated waiting for a train there and I agreed.
I asked him about going somewhere to kill time and he confirmed my suspicion about the quality of the neighborhood. I was probably marginally safer there. A nice guy and I would have offered to buy him a meal if the area was safer.
Then someone asked me if I was interested in buying any crack or pot. I told him I had already scored a couple of hours ago and was waiting to get home and grab a buzz. He counter offered and I told him I had no money left after my last purchase so he ambled off, disappointed but not upset.
Some other gay dude offered me his services and I told him I had been services less than an hour ago by a passing hooker. "Not bad for ten bucks," I said and he wandered off.
I think by this point I had gotten my pocket picked twice for the train ticket envelope and found it in the same trash can twice and had replaced it. It was in my back pocket again and I asked myself it I was in for a hat trick.
About this time another train arrived and the crowd got off and I spotted an obvious stripper, and a hot one at that. She was standing a bit aside after she got off of the train looking around for somethng.
She took one look at me and made a beeline for me and introduced herself by telling me she'd give me a blowjob for a ride to work.
Upon closer look I saw she was just entering the drug induced downhill track and figured in six month, a year tops she'd be in terrible shape and really strung out.
I told her my car was in the shop and she wandered off to find someone else. A few minutes later I saw her leave with the guy that tried to sell me crack.
Anyway, I checked my pocket agan, my ticket envelope was gone and I went back to the same trash can, fished it out and stuffed it back into my back pocket.
FINALLY my train showed up and I boarded only to fnd out they were fresh out of my brand of beer, one of which I desperately needed. Oh, well. Just one more reason to be madder at the imbecile that relieved me in Bridgeport and left me stuck in the damned train station.
Anyway, I don't remember the train ride home as it's kind of a blur and I recall I managed to get a nap on the train but I clearly remember arriving at the parking lot at 0015 or so. That was past midnight and you can bet I put in for that one.
Needless to say, I had to drive home all damned night and arrived after 0600 exhausted. I grabbed a jug, had a quick pull and went out like a light on the couch for ten hours. I was beat.
Aftermath.
I woke up 10 hours later in my clothes and on the couch. When I took off my pants to shower there was that damned ticket envelope in my back pocket that had been stolen three times. I considered framing it as a career souvenir. I put it on the kitchen table and I think my wife threw it out.
I later got my pound of flesh out of him when I pulled a few strings and got him stuck working both Thanksgiving AND Christmas. He had little kids, too. The best part was listening to his moaning, wailing and gnashing of teeth.
Of course I offered to work Christmas for him but what I wanted in return was a HUGE wad of cash up front that I knew he coudn't afford which added insult to injury.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this:
http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
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