Jesus died for someone's sins but not mine, meltin' in a pot of thieves, wild card up my sleeve, thick heart of stone, my sins my own

They belong to me. Me.

I was sitting here minding my own business. Well, I was watching The Muppet Show with John Cleese in it, if you must know, and my phone rings. Looking at the screen, I see it's my site cell phone. The Sleeper is on. Oh shit, is he going to rant?

Pause.

During the week I reminded the client that since they're closed for a few days over Christmas and New Years, they need extra coverage (during times we're not normally there). They asked if I'd do it, and I said of course I would. They wrote it up and faxed it in. And got no reply. Not that day, not the next.

So I had them call my office. They got the head scheduler and she said she'd received the request. The client reiterated that they wanted me on those shifts, but the scheduler said they couldn't do that, and that they'd put The Sleeper on instead.

The client demured, asking if Palooka or the other guy could do it.

I need a name for the other guy if I'm going to be refering to him, so I'm going to call him Valium Wailer, since he's the most laid back guy you'll ever meet but sings and plays keyboard for a speed metal band.

Anyway, the scheduler said no to both of those since Palooka would be working eight hours already that day (that's her problem with putting me on as well), and Valium Wailer isn't available except on weekends. She said "Are you sure you don't want The Sleeper?"

The client put her on hold for a moment and got me. "It sounds like there's nobody else available and they want to put The Sleeper on." they said.

"You don't need to have anybody you don't want to, since you're paying extra for this anyway. If they won't put me on, or one of the others you're okay with, ask for a random person that hasn't been here before. It'll be a cheaper rate and how badly can they screw up three shifts?"

I was interested in seeing the new schedule, which I should have got on Friday, but my field manager didn't show up.

More's the pity, since I was going to bounce this whole Cafeteria Lady thing off of him. Ah well.

I always ask Palooka and Valium Wailer how their encounters with The Sleeper go, since at first they were creeped out by how he acts and wondered if it was just them. For the past couple of weeks, they've said he's been extremely pleasant (because of the raise that he got that he and my CSM, Cookie Monster, don't know I know about) and has been showing a lot of teeth in a grimace that I assume is his attempt to smile.

But on Friday, when Valium Wailer relieved me, he said that the pleasant times were over and The Sleeper was back to his odd behavior.

Now, this will sound innocuous to the uninitiated, but try to remember that The Sleeper hates (based on pooled observations from several people, many of which I wouldn't trust to give their opinion on what their own names are) everybody who isn't from India and/or isn't able to get him something. If you don't fall into one or both of those categories, he's basically a bubbling cauldron of rage and loathing held in by a thin veneer of surliness.

Valium Wailer goes in to our office to relieve The Sleeper, and says hello. This is about the only safe thing you can ever say, and it's not always a certainty. The Sleeper says "The radio, phone and keys are over there on the desk."

Valium Wailer says "Great." - more as something to say than anything else. Just a response to the statement.

The Sleeper flicks into agitated mode and says "Yeah, it's really great that a phone and some keys are on the desk. Have a good shift (standard line for him)." and he left.

Valium Wailer was kicking himself for letting it get to that point. His usual strategy for dealing with The Sleeper is to say "Hello", nod at whatever he says, and be moving away from him as fast as possible so that if The Sleeper does try to start a conversation (it's a trap - RUN!) it can always be plausibly assumed that it wasn't heard, due to the increasing distance from him.

I know it sounds like nothing, but you have to know the guy.

Also, the batteries were scheduled to be replaced in one of the big (maybe the size of three standard refridgerators) UPS' and the client was insistant that security be at the beck and call of the guys doing it, as they would charge them a buttload if there were any hitches getting access or having to come back on another date.

So I left the email from the client on the desk where The Sleeper could see it with a post-it saying "The Sleeper - be conspicuously available for this."

Unpause.

I answered the phone.

"Is this Rimmy?"

"Yes, what can I do for you The Sleeper?"

"Nothing. But I'm going to do something for you."

Oh please, don't do anything for me. I can't think of anything good that you could do for me.

He passes the phone on to one of the outside contractors that works at the site, whom I rather like. I've been out to see her horses, and we seem to enjoy each other's company. She finished her latest assignment in late November and won't be back until January. But she'd stopped by to give me a Christmas present and didn't know my number.

Oddly, she also rather likes The Sleeper. Note that a few good words from someone of her standing can do wonders for him within our company. So she doesn't get the rage/loathing thing.

She has a farm up near Armstrong, and raises lambs. A half lamb goes for about a hundred bucks, and she feeds them primarily on hay and alfalfa which she also grows herself. If you want some fresh meat, I can hook you up. ;)

Anyway, she brought me some chops and left them in a freezer at the site for me. That was sweet of her. But she couldn't talk, since she had to boot out to Tsawwassen to pick somebody up from the ferry, so she said goodbye and while I listened she asked The Sleeper how to turn the phone off.

I guess he might have been irked that she was speaking to me, as a comment that I might have received was her reply: "All cell phones work the same way."

Anyway, that wasn't as bad a call as it might have been.

Also, the cleaners at the site bugged me all week to come to their Christmas party. I couldn't of course, since I was working (Friday night - lame), but it sure shows the difference between me and Barney. They still can't get over that I don't ride them like I'm a tinpot dictator.

I saw King Kong with the folks on Saturday night, and I liked it. Duh.

Although as I was leaving and thinking that I enjoyed it, I remembered an old Andy Capp strip where Andy and Florrie are leaving the cinema and Florrie is irritatedly commenting to Andy "You're the only man I know that cheers for the monster."

Now, I haven't seen the original in a while (but it was in the nineties), but something carried across from it into this picture loud and clear - people react way differently than me in unusual situations.

For instance - there's a dinosaur stampede of large herbivores down a narrow canyon, with velociraptors or small allosauri weaving through the legs. The Venture's crew are racing along underneath these things as they bounce and smash and ricochet off the walls.

Perhaps there's a reason I wasn't invited along on the cruise to Skull Island, but I've got to think that if I were in such a situation, I'd find the first semi-crack in the canyon walls and get myself out of the frickin' stampede. And not just because I probably couldn't run as far or as fast as they ran, even with adrenaline. I certainly wouldn't be punching out the carnivores that were running along with us - moving any part of my body towards the part of theirs with the teeth would just seem to be as good an idea as dumping Worcestershire sauce on my head and arranging myself on a bed of rice.

Also, while my fieldcraft skills aren't as good as they used to be - how exactly do various groups meet up on an uncharted island with no maps, no radios, and no rendevous points? Tracking is one option, but after rockfalls, vertical falls down sheer chasm faces, and generally not leaving footprints, not to mention the aforementioned saurian stampede, what is left to follow?

Even better, how do timely reunions happen when it's obvious that they've come from another direction entirely? Such things bother me when I can't resolve them.

I'd like you to note that when the people are actually on Skull Island, nobody sleeps. And yet, they're alert and fresh and have way more energy than seems reasonable.

And am I the only person to wonder why Kong appears to be a silverback gorilla with spidermonkey agility and a chimpanzee sense of humour?

My mom adds that she liked the film, but thought it dragged at the start. You don't see Kong for the first half of the film. "We came here to see an ape, so where's the ape?" said my mom.

All of that aside, I dug the flick. I'd go see it again even, although I probably won't. I didn't find it dragged out, and even knowing how it's going to end (does anybody not know the Kong story?) doesn't make you bored as the flick unwinds.

Although I sure would like to get to smash stuff like he does. You know, with impunity.

FWOOOOOOOOOOOSH, bisnitch! I used to clean up after stuff like this. And I bet that despite that, my lungs are still cleaner than yours!

I'm outtie