What a Man Bad-Luck-ed!
Driving in to work this morning I said to myself, “What a beautiful morning!”. There were blue skies everywhere as far as the eye could see and only a very few clouds! “It looks like a great day to go to the beach, bwoy!”, I thought. “Shit, it really is a pity that I wasn’t born filthy rich! Then I wouldn’t need to have a job, and I could do anything that I wanted!”.
Yes, that would really be an irie vibe., after all, its lobster season now here in the Cayman Islands. I could go snorkelling and hunt me some lobster, rasta! Wouldn’t that be awesome!
Of course, knowing me, after the lazy, luxurious lifestyle of the filthy-rich had sunk into me for a bit, I’d probably get bored of it somewhat. Instead of chilling on a beach somewhere soaking up the rays, I’d probably be in exactly the same place where I now am, hunkered down in front of a computer somewhere, typing out plenty lines of code, or maybe of a blogpost. I would most likely end up doing the exact same stuff I now do, because that’s what I find interesting.
Of course, if I was filthy rich, I wouldn’t have to take any crap from the people that I would be reporting to. If they messed with me, I could just walk off the job without a care in the world, or if they really pissed me off, then I could just buy the company outright and fire everybody’s asses!
Maybe it’s a good thing I wasn’t born filthy rich after all, huh, because then I would own many IT companies and I would downsize them all and many people would be gunning for me. I would need to walk with my own security detail to ra$$. Ha, I know who I would hire to be MY bodyguard! Can’t tell you though… if I told you, I’d have to kill you! Ok, as its you, I’ll let you have a little peek… Bwoy, what a fine little bomba, eeeh? Apparently she is Cuban, I found her picture through the Afflicted Blog.
Speaking of Information Systems work, it seems that most companies have a nightly run of some sort. You know what I mean, don’t you? In the day, the regular Joes punch up the keyboards, imputting thousands of records into databases the world over. By night though, a different individual rules the office. Click on the link below to continue, nuh man?
This type of individual is known as the night operator. They work after everyone else has gone home, and they do all the boring, repetitive grunt work that takes place in an I/T shop.
One thing about this type of work, it is usually typified by long running jobs that the operator kicks off and then he sits and twiddles his thumbs for an hour or two or three… Of course, the operators are expected to do just that! Sit there and twiddle their thumbs, or rather, watch the screen to see if the job that is running is behaving abnormally, if its running too long, if its crashed or whatever, and he is expected to inform someone who can take corrective action at the earliest opportunity should the job start to do anything unexpected.
Unfortunately the night operator is usually a thinking, breathing, partying individual, just like everyone else… or at least, he would be, if the job didn’t keep him tied to the console while everybody else was hard at play, whether vertically or horizontally!
The temptation to skip out from work for a bit is huge, and the opportunity is everpresent, after all, who is there to watch him? Most operators that I have known do skip out for a bit now and then, going off to sip a brew or two and watch some wire-waist, gogo dancer do her thing, or to play dominos with some bredrin or something like that. As long as the jobs don’t crash, or the boss doesn’t pass through, who the hell cares, am I right?
Anyway, I recently heard the best story ever of a night operator getting caught playing hooky… Imagine, one full moon night, the manager decided to go and see how the fish were biting. He took his boat down to the water and launched it, thinking, “Ahhh… a little peace, away from the wife's unreasonable demands that I watch “Oprah” with her, away from those pesky, squabbling kids, and the damned dog that wants to be walked… just me and my rod and my boat, the three of us with nothing to do but to chill out on the water and contemplate the wonders of the universe and maybe even catch a few big ra$$ fish!
As the manager approached his normal spot, (the location of which was a closely guarded secret, because the fish do run thereabouts) he saw another boat at anchor! “Shyte!”, he thought. “Someone else has found out about my little spot! Never mind, I can still have fun, I'll just pretend that there is no one else out here.” . Mumbling curses to himself, he drops anchor, breaks out his fishing line and sits down to get some serious fishing in. Curiousity eventually gets the better of him, and so he peers out across the few yards to where the other boat bobs gently… Wait… no! It can’t be! Isn’t that Patrick?
“Patrick, what de rass cloth you doing out here!". (note the cloth in ‘rass cloth’. These Caymanians do pronounce it that way, can you believe it? Mostly they drop the ‘H’ at the end, but they definitely say ‘clot’ rather than ‘claat’!).
Poor Patrick, he no longer works for that company… Thats not the single reason, but I'm sure it was weighed when the decision to fire him was made. Still, he must be the most unlucky night operator to have ever lived! Imagine stealing out to do a little fishing and then bucking up your manager… out in the sea… in the middle of the night! It must have been Fate, to rass claat!
Posted by Mad Bull at January 12, 2006 06:00 PM
Comments
Of course I had to look the bomba on your last post at work, but luckily my screen is away from others. Nice girl still. I would indulge con mucho gusto. Yo quiero todo to rass cloth. Dame la gasolina para beber! My fingers tremblin and ah cant even type this comment to rass. Bomba!
Posted by: revolution island on January 12, 2006 07:39 PM
I thought they would hook up homeys like that at home. Still wouldn't help him out in the North Sound. Yes, the various pronounciations of Jacan cusses are funny, not only that one. I had a Scottish boss long time ago and he used to sound like he was saying "Rauce" - and he had learnt rass from me. It was hilarious to say the least.
Posted by: revolution island on January 12, 2006 07:41 PM
First off, I'd say if you had a bo(u)dyguard like dat de chicha, you'd find yourself most vulnerable my yute.
Ri, tu espanonl no es muy mal. Cuando vas a Jamaica para praticar la lengua con la gente aqui? Digame hombre!
MB, as a true man from yard you need to educate dem turtles how to cuss rassclaat rude bowoy!
And yeah, what a yute unlucky to rawse!
Posted by: Dr. D. on January 12, 2006 08:42 PM
Poor Patrick.We would say he need to bathe between the fresh and the salt-whatever that is
Posted by: kami on January 12, 2006 08:46 PM
Mad Bull Yu chatty today. Night operator well unlucky fe true.
Posted by: sunshine on January 12, 2006 11:53 PM
unlucky might be an understatement.
Posted by: scratchie on January 13, 2006 08:14 AM
Was tempted to pull a sick day to head to jazz and blues for the thurs night - but my colleages informed me that my boss always goes down for that so am sure would end up in the same position as patrick!
Posted by: kingston girl on January 13, 2006 08:52 AM
Poor Patrick. The night operators I know, have a lounge area at the office where they invite the boys to play dominoes and such or even invite some ladies for a little nookie right there in the office! So, they can pop in and out to make sure the jobs are running, while keeping the lounge door locked the way it should be ... dangerous. I guess they could put the cubana chick you have up as the lookout :)
Posted by: CoolDestiny on January 13, 2006 11:51 AM
Wow, CD! The ones you know have the most cushy night operator jobs of all! 
Posted by: Mad Bull on January 13, 2006 05:04 PM
Well, she did say that they 'pop in and out' MB!
Posted by: Dr. D. on January 13, 2006 06:06 PM
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Of course I had to look the bomba on your last post at work, but luckily my screen is away from others. Nice girl still. I would indulge con mucho gusto. Yo quiero todo to rass cloth. Dame la gasolina para beber! My fingers tremblin and ah cant even type this comment to rass. Bomba!
Posted by: revolution island on January 12, 2006 07:39 PM