Tammi's World

(Smells Like) Carnage

In my profession circumstances conspire such that I've seen my share of train wrecks. Head ons, cars clipped at crossings, derailments wherein the freight is scattered down the side of an inaccessible mountain. And, truth be told, I likes me a good train wreck. Nothing like standing in the woods on a cold December night with a cup of hot joe at 2 of the morning, asking a roadmaster "What the fuck d'ya think happened here?"

Because the dirty secret is the only reason to go to a train wreck is so that you were there. Nothing you can do. Cranes are called in, boxcars righted, freight shoehorned into tractor trailers with forklifts. The dead hauled away, occasionally. But the thing is, you can't not be there. You have to be able to tell your boss the next day "Yeah, I'm tired. Gonna leave early. Didn't leave the collision 'til 4 a.m. That was carnage, dude."

Because you boss wasn't there. They're never there. You have to have the game on a boss. Of course he knows you didn't do a damned thing but stand around and drink coffee and bullshit, but that's okay. You were there.

Where was I going with this?? I got distracted. Oh, yes. Never bet the blogkeys, Tammi, because this is a frigging train wreck here. And I know whereof I speak.

Posted by Velociman. The Other White Meat.