So last night, I'm all set to go out and play again. It's Saturday night and the world is mine.
Just as I'm giving the heckhounds their biscuits prior to slipping out the door for a night on the town, I hear a phone ring in the back bedroom.
It's my work phone.
Do I answer it on a Saturday night? This is my day off and the bars and the girls and the fun is minutes away.
"Do not answer that," said the voice in my head. "Just don't answer it."
Fifty minutes later, me and another guy who answered the phone on his night off were launching an 18-foot boat into the Intercoastal Waterway. The next six hours would be spent getting fairly well soaked and having a close encounter with a towboat and a string of barges that clearly did not see our running lights until the last possible second--if at all--followed by a grounding and a fouled prop as we tried to navigate some pipeline canals in the pitch dark swamp. And making it all the more interesting, we did it with a storm front moving in, bringing all the winds and chop you'd expect.
But we eventually got the job done that we'd been called out there to do. And by the time I got home, I was almost too tired to walk down to the bar for a couple of shots. Almost.
Friday night was definitely more fun, but last night is the reason I'm down here.