| |
| |
Spring 2003, Ireland —
Gary and I went to Limerick to meet the rest of a team working for the same contract-cleaning business. we came from Kilkenny and we'd meet up with the other two coming from Waterford.
Ratboy (not his real name) was a supervisor down in Waterford and on these jobs together he supervised us. This tended to give us more freedom than when Gary was in charge, since there was always Ratboy's supervision upon which to lay our sins.
We really only took the piss out of Ratboy once, going for a two-hour lunch in Cashel. We went to see the Rock of Cashel and talk about some stuff.
But that's not normal. Normally the smoke breaks come often enough, and the days finish soon enough under Ratboy's supervision, that it's not necessary or desirable to mess with that. And besides, Ratboy is cool. He's a good soul, under that vicious little heavy-metal xenophobe sense of humor.
We stopped in some little town at Ratboy's insistence — he'd called several times to make sure we'd meet there. So we stopped. We smoked a joint and talked for a while. Everybody got whatever crap they needed from the little convenience store. Then we were ready to drive on into Limerick and get to work.
We went to the revenue office, aside the river Shannon in downtown Limerick. Ratboy gave us each a small vacuum-cleaner. A hoover, as it's called.
Up a couple of flights, Ratboy sent myself and Gary into a big, open office space. We were to clean the shades with the vacuum-cleaners. There were people sitting at the desks. They were working. I was puzzled, at first, then irritated with the situation. But that was the job; we were to hoover the shades. If you have to stand on the desk, go ahead.
I only needed to stand on two desks and one printer table. I had to excuse myself frequently, squeezing into many tight spaces and moving peoples' material around. Nobody said anything about it. I would have wondered why it had to be done during office hours. I would have said something. But nobody said anything. They just went about their own jobs, working on taxes.
During lunch, Gary and I made our traditional escape from Ratboy and E_. I think we just sat in the car and ate, talked, and listened to the radio. Gary suggested we tell Ratboy that we'd gone to see the Rock of Limerick. We forgot, though.
There's no Rock of Limerick but there is a nice castle by the river.