With another month-long tour finished in the floating metal pickle barrel I call my own, today was crew change day, where I get relieved, and my opposite comes out to work so I can go home for my 14 days of shoreside R&R... so I hopped on 95 north and left Philadelphia at abut 0530, driving into the rising sun.
Didn't make it home, though. I drove to Brooklyn today, not Boston. I'm 'working over.' That is, rather than go home, like a dumbass I volunteered to work on another tank barge for 2 weeks, whereupon I'll again drive somewhere south to meet up with HAWSEPIPER's afloat global HQ/all-male revue.
So, rather than surrounding myself with loved ones and seeing my wife and kid, I am smelling sulphur fumes and looking out over the deck of this tub and writing to you fine people. FML.
To make myself feel better, here is this week's supply of lovely ladies from Brazil. Chances are all the extra money I'm making will go towards my next trip there, anyhow. With a true Brazilian beauty waiting 10 weeks for my dumb ass to come home, I really am feeling a wee bit of regret just now.
When you get home? How ’bout in the store?
9 minutes ago