Because I vowed to post once a week and because I used all my brain power to fill out shipping documents, I present to you – a letter I wrote to my cousin.
(For muddled clarification: cousin=casha=cashew=cat shoe=shoe of the cat).
9 July ’08
Dear Shoe of the Cat that bit me,
That’s what I’m going to start substituting for ‘hair of the dog.’ Hopefully I’ll need a little shoe of the cat tomorrow morning since freezer plant rumor is that we have a day off. Woot. Root.
I haven’t been d-runk in lord knows how long (probably 2 weeks), and my debauchery nerve is starting to tingle. I think we’ll be done with fish today by 3 pm, and since this little shipper has no clean up – just a touch of paperwork, I’m thinking of peelin’ some wheelies out of here, hitting the tavern and either taking a half day (from Army) or a full-on day off!! Yes it’s a pretty exciting day here in Sitka, AK.
[Side Note: Oh ga-rosse. I had to stop writing because one of the van loaders came inside with his hand dripping blood, because it had been smashed between two 50 lb. sacks o' salmon. I had to rush him upstairs to find a strong-stomached first aid giver, then find disposable gloves and someone to clean up the blood trail up the stairs. Then I came back to see I'd dropped my clipboard and my letter page in dirty boot dip chum water trailings.]
12 July ’08
So…referencing the last time I wrote (excited about being drunk for the first time in sheer days), I told you on the phone about my three-drink surly blackout wherein I was all sweet and cuddles in the morning – not remembering doing everything in my power to be difficult and bratty after the bar. Ah sweet booze.
I guess to be fair, I had one glass of pinot grigio (or as I like to call it – Peanut Greasey-O or Peanut Grow-gee-oh) before I left the house, then had a deliciously dirty martini, then two rather large (and probably double) gin drinks…but still – come on! What a featherweight!
Also the next day (the 10th?), I was good ole Alaska hungover. Trying to crunch numbers and all the while, all I could think was, “If I could only take a 15-min. nap, I’d be just fine.” Luckily I got to go home early (an 8-hour day instead of a 12-14) but only after I’d struggled through a pretty terrible production report.
Now it’s after lunch and Keith the Chef made so many delicious, gut-expanding dishes: chicken enchiladas, rice & beans, butter & herb thin-sliced potatoes, GUAC! Actually he forgot to take the guac out of the freezer in time, so he kept referring to it as avocado ice cream. Heh.
Point of the matter being – I can no longer cross my legs, and my calves no longer fit in my Xtra Tuffs because of my quad-scoop avocado ice cream sundae. (Time to go clock back in).
It’s been a pretty busy day – especially compared to yesterday when I worked 6 – 7 AM then 4 – 7 PM. Today I have shipped 160,500 lbs. of chum salmon to Quindao, China and 53,040 lbs. of chum salmon roe to Tokyo, Japan. Pretty wicked fish shipping.
Heavens. It’s now 4:06 PM, and I have been quite the busy little beavis. I got some uncontrollable IBS right when I was supposed to be sealing and stickering a van and preparing the BL (bill of lading). I had to Scrubs-janitor-boot-scoot upstairs and barely made it, but let me tell you…it was a life-altering, weight loss event that gave me energy for the afternoon. Good thing because I have been running around weighing fish, juggling bay space, fixing label makers and generally pissing excellence.
Just gonna wrap this up, so I can get it mailed off to you. What I’m saying is – please send mental stimulation in return…even if it’s one page at a time. Your last little gem really did it for me. (You know what I mean…In my pants.)
Let’s see – it’s now after dinner, and I again ate myself sick. I hate that. This time there wasn’t even a good reason. It was spaghetti and veggies and salad…oh – and pickled beets. Why can’t I quit you, betaveles? So yeah – I’m sick and feel quite chinny. Gross. I’m seriously controlling my portions tomorrow.
Enough about that, let’s talk about food. I got some smoked salmon yesterday and while it was no ‘Father Jerry’ good, it was pretty tasty. Some fisherdudes off a huge tender named The American Lady gave it to Johnny (Juan) who fixed some shit on their boat. He, in turn, shared the wealth. He’s funny. He’s a short, extremely fast-talking Mexican from the Texas border. I can’t understand his English when he gets going fast, and the Dominicans can’t even understand his Spanish. He has “done time at the big house” as the kids say, and he has a bit of a crazy glint in his ojo, but he’s also one of the only people who doesn’t bug the crap out of me on a daily basis. He told me a story about wrestling with his “old lady” last night, and her elbow knocked his tooth out. He wasn’t mad – it was loose to begin with.
13 July ’08
I got off work at lunch today, and I’m about to head back out to the plant for dinner. I have to say, I’m looking pretty fine (some call it showered), and I look forward to surprising the little Europeans who see me on a daily basis as an ugly, grumpy, disgruntled shipper.
On the other hand, I’m drinking an ice-cold Sierra Nebada and listening to Hank Williams III, and it makes me want to ditch my duties as taxi driver from the plant back to town and ditch dinner (gasp) and go to the bar instead.
I sure love you, cuz sin. I have really relished out recent chats. You are the scrote to my ween.
Slobbery salmon smooches,
J Mo Wizzle
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