A Confidence Course
I clenched my teeth,
my jaws were grinding, and I was really annoyed, but I finally crossed the damned thing.
“Now what?” I
hollered back.
“Climb da laddah
dude.” He smiled again, as he looked down.
It was a rope ladder, alongside
the barge, rising at least another twenty feet. “I must be freaking crazy,” I
was thinking, “I don’t need this,” but I was climbing the ladder. With every
step it swung from side to side. It was fastened at the top, and to the barge
at the bottom, and moved along with it. Finally I reached the top, the captain,
a dude from New Orleans
greeted me:
“Hi y’all doing, din
think ya was gon make it…He hee hee.”
“Me neida!”
The barge was rolling
back and forth on the water, like a rocking chair, and there were all kinds of
freaking pipes crossing its length on top.
“Wat y’all carry hea?
“Seement!”
It reminded me of
boot camp, so many years before, as we hopped over one damned pipe after
another, it was a confidence course. At the front of the barge, we had to go down a metal stairs, which reminded of a submarine.
I’ve only seen them in movies.
He smiled as he
opened a folding chair for me. His tiny office only had room for one, but
somehow we managed to run through the documents, and get his John Hancock on them. The man was a smoker, and I was tempted to join
him as he lit up, but I didn’t. It took us twenty minutes, and we were
done. It was the same ordeal going back. He was on his way home to New Ahleans,
and I was going home.
“Well, y’all have
yasef a von voyage home cap’n,” I smiled, and started down the damned ladder.
It was past eleven when I finally got back to my car. I called my manager, and
reported my adventure.
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