I though last night was bad enough. Sore, who is on light duty, decided to camp at the front desk, rather than over in the Admin building by himself. The man has a pathological need to chatter to anyone and everyone about any subject.
He's also another one of those "Experts" I talked about a little while ago. Anything you have done or even thought about doing, he's already done. Better and longer and made more money at it than you would ever dream of. He's been a millionaire many times over.
And there must have been a conga line of women dancing in and out of his bedroom for many many years. If he'd notched his bedpost, it would be nothing but splinters right now.
He waits like a trapdoor spider and will leap out of his lair and pounce on the unsuspecting victim and proceed to talk them into submission.
I stayed in the Comm room until my bladder was going to burst then rushed past him and shouted "Gotta pee!" to escape his clutches. Then the rotten swine would wait outside the bathroom until I came back out and begin his chattering. He'd always preface his stories by saying "You'll enjoy this....."
I never do.
And then tonight, even though my ears were still stinging from being batter by Sore, I had to be out on the yard with both Sausage and Gray Ham, both of whom are pathological chatterers. Between the two of them I'm surprised the shack didn't explode or just crumble to dust from the incessant noise.
Sgt Uncle T and I spent a good part of our evening and quite a bit of energy ditching them like dorky little brothers so we wouldn't have to listen to it. Even though it was warm and cozy in the shack I would go outside in the wind and chill, ostensibly to smoke, just to get away. And those two rotten turds would follow me out into the cold because they were tired of listening to each other and chatter at me from both sides. Egad.
Finally we had enough and Uncle T and I got onto the cart and spent the evening taking care of certain "details" and doing "security checks" in order to keep away from the shack. We could have been warm and cozy in the shack, but we both would rather have been outside and freezing cold.
At least it was quiet out there.
And we could have a quiet conversation without somebody interrupting by singing old show tunes or talking about what movies John Wayne had bit parts in when he was three and his buddy in Germany who is apparently a nuclear physicist in his spare time who invented an automatic rocket belt that would bring him beautiful nekkid women regularly while he drove around in every single make of car ever invented which are all in mint condition and kept in his grandfathers barn in Estonia.
While we were spending our time saving our hearing and what shreds of our sanity remained, The Kid managed to get himself pulled out of his house again. Sgt Moon got tired of him not doing his job, like frequent security checks, and wrote him up yet again. So, in response, The Kid put down on paper that Sgt Moon was "harassing" him and that working down there was a "hostile work environment".
Captain CJ, who also seems to be tired of his crap, had him banned from the house. He's now on utility and can be put anywhere but there. He walked around for the rest of the night with a smug little smile on his face like he'd won something.
But I got news for him. Nobody else is going to want to put up with his laziness any more than Sgt Moon was. Very soon he's going to discover that the whole place is a hostile work environment if you are not willing to get up off of your butt and do some work now and then.
Other than that, it was a nice calm night.
Friday I'm schedule to be down in the Sallyport. I'm sure that's going to be a bundle of laughs.
And Friday is going to be Babbling Day. Oh Lawsy. Not again! It's also going to be Mammography Day and Reptile Awareness Day.
All I can say is.... have fun with that.
"A Man Called Ove" - *When I checked this digital library book out on my Kindle, I didn't realize the story was set in Sweden or I wouldn't have bothered. I know I'm narrow-mi...
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