Speaking of attractive models and complaints about them,

I remember a complainer we had at work that eventually was laid off for stupidity.

You have to remember that I made my career as a part of a large dysfunctional family called a boat crew. When we were underway it was a floating mess. When the first line hit the dock we were totally professional.

Because the galley doubled as an office we were pretty self governing strict about what what was posted on the galley/office walls. Mostly it was vessel pertinent stuff like pipeline diagrams, fire plans and that sort of thing along with current office notices. 

About the only none official thing we had posted was a calendar and we avoided controversy on that. One of the guys had a calendar he got from a feed store down home. Mostly the pictures were of farm girls on tractors or using farm machinery. The girls were simple soap and water faced farm girls. 

We were in the shipyard for maintenance and yardbirds were all over the boat with torches, welders, scalers and other implements of destruction. There was a constant racket of metal on metal as to be expected in the yard. I was mate at the time and the captain and I were fairly busy with little projects we had wanted to take care of. This was our golden opportunity to do little things to make our lives easier. 

Our port captain came aboard and told us one of the office women was headed that way and looked around. "Hell, I feel stupid looking around because I know you guys are pretty squared away."

Sure enough, shortly afterwards the office woman showed up. She was supposed to go through the ship's documentation which is something we had kept up religiously. We expected no problems and the only thing she found was something we should have pitched when the update arrived.

When she saw the calendar she complained about it to the port captain who looked stunned and said, "Don't be ridiculous!"

"I wonder what they have inside their lockers," she replied.

"The lockers in that bunkroom is the only privacy these men have. You're not going to invade it, He said and turned to me. "Secure the bunkroom hatches. NOBODY is going to invade your privacy."

This was funny in a way because a couple of times he had arrived early when we were sleeping in and made us breakfast as a courtesy and one Sunday when we were sleeping in wandered into the bunkroom to roust us and seen the pinup on the inside of my then open wall locker and had laughed like hell. "That's the most sarcastic thing I have ever seen," he laughed.

The pinup was none other than the iconic WW2 Betty Grable pinup. Yeah, that one.

The same pinup graced the inside of my wall locker when I was in the Army. Every single inspecting officer laughed like hell when they saw it and when they looked at me I'd say, "Second generation, Sir."

This particular port captain was treated like one of us because he was one of us. He treated us like men and in return we acted like men.

The day after the woman left was quiet.

The following day as I was cooking breakfast the port captain walked in. He was clearly angry and he spoke to both of us.

"That idiot woman from the other day raised hell about that stupid calendar and now the office wants it to look at." He looked at me. "Here's what we're going to do. You will leave here around noon in my company car, drive to the office. You WILL take coffee breaks every hour or so along the way incompliance with the safety rules. You WILL eat decent meals as needed. You WILL arrive in Philly after 1700 at which point the office will be closed. You WILL take an overnight room at the Ramada and eat a decent breakfast before you report to the fleet manager carrying that damned calendar at 0900 while wearing your greasiest coveralls. Take my company car and here's the company credit card."

I did what I was told, enjoying a nice steak and lobster dinner after I checked in at the Ramada and at 0900 reported to the fleet manager who paid no mind to my overalls. He took one look at the calendar and snapped, "You gotta be $hitting me! That's what this is all about?"

They were used to overalls at the fleet headquarters. The only thing the fleet manager did was say, "I'll bet you were told to wear greasy overalls to keep you from being sent to Center City. Well, guess again. You're taking this to the HR supervisor personally. They could use a dose of greasy overalls." 

When I got to Center City (where I was treated like a leper) I reported to the HR honcho that took one look at the calendar and started saying something incoherent about people's sensibilities and yada yada yada. He was obviously trying to do damage control.

"Andy of Mayberry is offensive?" I shot back. "Because this is Andy of Mayberry! What do you have against Andy and Barney?"

He caved in and asked if he could have the calendar. I agreed after he promised to return it. I left and got to see a suit shy away from me. I must admit I enjoyed my visit as a leper.

I got back to fleet after noon and the fleet manager saw me at 1300.

"I just spoke with your port captain and we agreed that we don't want you driving when you're overtired. Grab another room, get a good meal and leave tomorrow morning." he gave a knowing look.

I told him to make sure the calendar was returned and he said it would be a pleasure.

I did what I was told, having tied up 3 days over absolutely nothing. When I got back to the shipyard and reboarded the port captain came aboard. I told him the calendar was with HR who promised to return it. He promised to make sure they did.

Getting the calendar back was hilarious. Fortunately a pair of mechanics from fleet had been sent to the shipyard to fix some thing or another. They arrived about a week later and returned it with much laughter, pomp and ceremony and we returned Betty-Lou-Thelma-Liz to her rightful place.

Later we heard the woman was reassigned and not permitted to set foot on another boat again by order of the CEO!

Fact is, we didn't give a damn about the calendar itself. It was one of those entertaining battles fought on principle. Usually when something was taken off the boat by higher ups it was never returned before that. Afterwards things changed a bit.

Of course, the port captain gained a lot of respect from us and so did the fleet manager.

Betty Grable still graces my wall. I'm a sarcastic bastard.

 

 

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