Sand Witch

It’s quite pleasant here… a technical workshop in the Caribbean.  Lots of time for “break out” sessions.  That means “break out your swimsuit, folks, ’cause we’re done working for the day”. 

Definitely my kind of meeting…

This afternoon, i grabbed a book, my blackberry* and some sunscreen and headed toward the private beach.  i had spotted some lovely hammocks, tied to a small collection of giant palm trees.  They were screaming my name…

Settled in for a restful afternoon, thinking deep technical thoughts, of course.  The surf was crashing and the sun grazed my skin through the shade of the palm fronds above as a stiff wind blew off the ocean.

As i put the book down, giving myself over to “eyelid gravity syndrome”, i heard someone poking around the hammock nearest mine.  Quick glance over… 30-something dude in a polo shirt, water sandals and cargo shorts.  Baseball cap with some university logo… He climbed into his hammock.

i returned to my deep technical thoughts.  He decided this was a lovely time to make some phone calls to the office…

Douchey McBusinessdick had very important business to attend to.  First, he called Diane at the home office to explain why he was going to have to have a talk with Rhonda.  “I’ve let this go too long, and she’s just not working out.  Seriously, I gotta do something or we’re fucked”.  On and on and on…

i threw some particularly evil glares over my shoulder.  They were ignored**.  This very important and loud man showed no signs of shutting up.

After explaining “the situation” to Diane, he decided to call Barbara, while telling Diane to give Denise a call to tip her off to the coming shitstorm.  “She never fucking shows up!  She’s got a job to do, but if she’s not there, she’s not doing her job!”

Seeing as the glares aren’t working, and i didn’t have a cell phone jammer (or a large wooden baseball bat), i decided to talk to him directly to see if he even noticed he was bothering me…

“Jeesus H. Krispies!  If i worked for a douchenozzle like you?  i wouldn’t show up for work either!”

Nope.  No reaction.  Guy was truly oblivious…  It’s funny, but i had no problem listening to the noise of the children playing on the beach, or couples in quiet conversation a few hammocks over, but the prattle of this self-important ass-jacket was really getting on my tits…

i finally gave up trying to snooze, and decided to pack it in for the day.  As i swung out of the hammock, i dropped one of my towels.  If i had been a cartoon character, a light bulb would have appeared over my head – and i quickly dropped my other towel in the sand as i collected my gear to return to my room.

After energetically stomping both towels into the sand, i bent to pick them up – time to return them to the service desk! Seeing as i was located upwind of Douchey – it looked a bit like a Sahara sandstorm as i shook them out…  Poor guy.  Got a face full of sand, he did. 

Oops.

*My feeble attempt to stay connected to the office.  It’s not like they’re going to call me with a ‘research emergency’, but guilt does funny things to the mind…

** My KINGDOM for a cell phone jammer.  Just like Captain Jammer, i should have zapped this motherfucker into next week… this may have been the deciding moment – i must buy one of my own….