One of my buddies works on an oil rig in Alberta during the winter. This is the email I received from him today when I was in Philosophy class.
Sooooo….here is a little update to my life on the road in Alberta. On Tuesday night, I dropped my girlfriend off at work, and as she gets out asks me to ‘grab her a sub’ and bring it back. Being the gentleman I am, ‘No prob!’. From there I drive up two blocks and quickly run into subway. For those familiar with Central Alberta, winter has not been kind, so I leave the truck running for the moment as we have had minus 51 wind chills…(as long as it takes to get a 6′ sub made).
The lady serving me was close to 100 years of age, and was taking a while…she may have been the original sandwich artist, or Jared Fogles aunt…not sure yet. Aywho….I get my sub, and turn to the door, noticing my truck is fine, then I turn back to the cryptic sub-maker and ask if she has any Red Deer Rebel schedules[a junior hockey team]…i let her fumble around the till for about 30 seconds, before I was starting to grind my teeth, and said no worries ‘maam…… and hey…..don’t you go dying on me now! (ok…I didn’t say that). As I make it close to the exit, I hear a slam and notice my truck backing out….it takes me a second before I realize it’s mine and some skinny crack head is stealing it……..SNAP LOSE IT! Chase him out the door, as he spins out on the ice….I can barely grab the door handle….I’m screaming saying stop the truck….he catches traction and peels off through the parking lot, i sprint faster than a juiced up Marion Jones and cut through the adjacent lot, he is pulling away, so I stop and airmail a fruitopia bottle like, at my own truck and smash it just below the window. I keep running and try to catch the now law bidding crack head(he stopped at the next light). I’m still sprinting and calling 911, he takes off as i get close….kinda like you do when you tease a friend…..soon i stop and almost collapse….I tell the lady, I can see him, he is casually driving down Gaetz (like Sepulveda in LA). i go back to subway, freak out on two young punks outside and they just get scared and sprint down the road….I can’t chase them, due to my lungs breathing ice cold air. so i go into subway and yell loud at the mythical white haired lady ..’ do you have any f-ing cameras?’…’do you have any cameras?’…..she just looked at me like Rigor Mortis had begun to set in. So I shake my head and swear LOUD and just leave……she may very well be in that same fossilized position. From there the police phone, and ask where im at…I tell them outside Jurassic park….i mean subway. So the officer says…’can you just walk over to the detachment? It’s only a few blocks’ I say ‘ seriously?, yah whatever’…man, I might have pulmonary adima, but yah, if it saves your fat a$$ from doing any exercise. I got there…still holding my sub, and filled out my report, he asks me ‘any cards in there?’…..and all I had was a fuel card Dustin left….so i said nah……there was none. hehe.
Then the cop says, anyone who can pick you up? or a place to go. I tell him..’ I’m here for work, he has my keys to the house I stay at…’ So I have to walk across downtown, while it’s blizzarding to where my girlfriend works. When I go in she asked what the heck took so long…..I said here’s your sub, it cost $45’000…..can i please have a double Jack Daniels, and an oxygen mask.
So this morning they call me and tell me they have located the truck. It was found at a known crack house in a northtrailer park. I asked the cop if he got the guy, and he laughed and said, yah we went in but there was 15-18 crack heads strung all over and sleeping….so needless to say he never grabbed my keys. So I have to wait to get all the locks and ignition changed and cops to go through it, because they pick up 3-4 vehicles a week at this location, usually all burned or torn up. And most of the time, they have needles and what not in them. The lady at the impound said’ you couldn’t pay me a million bucks to drive your truck’ I thought to myself…… she’s right, my insurance covers theft, so i will get a nice big diesel truck to make it to the snowy mountains east of the city where my rig is at. When I get there she says ‘we only have one vehicle left…a ‘ I think SUV, and say fine…. She drives it around and it is a bright lipstick red hatchback, not much bigger than a smart car. This car is gross, I look at her…and laugh and say..’ Is this for real…..or is going to jump out of the snow bank’ She tells me..it has good gas mileage…like what lady empty-half-a-year-full year…and I’m thinking this is the car everyone refused to take.
If it turned into a Transformer it would be the one that was completely gay, and owned a nylon flower shop in West Hollywood. By this time my patience is done, and my face is as red as the gay Asian dildo I’m about to drive through the Oil tough town of.
To make things worse I have been fake baking and put some blonde streaks in my hair yesterday. It may be in my head, but I think I’m starting to lisp when i pronounce words that end in ‘S’. I think i need to man up right away…. so I’m headed to the Oilman’s club where i can talk about rigs,eat a raw steak, drink JD and get in a fight with a fellow oil rigger, because his jacked up F350 isn’t ‘that’ loud.
There is no way in this world that little Bento Box will make it to the rig…..and if it did, i fear i wouldn’t make it out of there alive.