Dear Papa Johns

I hate that you’re too busy to deliver me a pizza. I called you and waited 10 minutes on hold. Then I hung up. Then I tried again an hour later. You took my order, but told me you were the wrong store. I called the right store. They put me on hold too. The universe does not want me to order a pizza.  The latter part of this post contains the funny stories. I figured I would mention that in case you have short attention spans and only read this for the quotes and stories, skip to the end. I have also added some random photos at the end.

I just finished my third and final job. I was first engineer. I think it went well. Supressed excitement fills the air at the training center. All my co workers, including the open hole Honeybadgers, are on their final jobs. Everyone is under much stress, but still very happy and relieved and excited that training is coming to a close. There is an energetic undertone behind every wave across the well sites. I like it.  I spent most of my time tonight trying to clean dirt/well fluids/ corroded casing out of the creases in my knuckles. This is what my onesy looked like last night after I spent two days working at the training center:

I had another shift today. I pulled a dirty onesy out of my laundry hamper to wear, as it was considerably cleaner than the one I had been wearing. I have developed a few mildly superstitious habits. One of which is: I can not wear my red knitted touk. It is bad luck. The one time I wore it for my job, I failed. The one time I wore it working as a crew member on a co worker’s engineering shift, their job also went awry. No red cap. Another superstitious ritual: I do not chance out my long socks that I wear with my boots between jobs. “Laila, that is disgusting!” I know. The last and final ritual: Change out a onesy only when it looks like picture above.

This is my face and hand after spending two days working at the training center:

Sorry for taking a picture of myself in a mirror. I just wanted to share my dirtiness with the fans.

Many of you may know that I have never successfully stayed awake for 24 hours consecutively. The only time I came close, I ended up sleeping much of the night on the kitchen floor of my former roommates’ apartment. I would like to take this time to let everyone know: I’ve done it! I did pass out sitting up and cuddling my backpack in the back of a logging truck at hour 24.

My crew for this job consisted of Albert and Edwin. After engineering, you are immediately supposed to playback your job. For our crew, this meant logging all day, and playing back all night. When I say “all” I mean 11 hours of scheduled logging time, and 8 hours of scheduled playback. This usually means the engineer will end play back around 2 am. After Edwin’s shift, he went to sleep in the back of a truck. There is a bunk house at the training facility, and most people needing to stay over night will utilize it. Albert arrived at the training center in the morning around 6 am to engineer his shift. He went looking for Edwin in the bunk house. Please imagine the following scene: “I wanted to wake up Edwin, but I didn’t want to wake up anyone else. So I walked around with my little flashlight and cupped my hand over it. I would just briefly shine it on people’s faces to try to find Edwin. But everyone’s face was covered!!! So then I shined the flashlight on their boots, trying to recognize which one’s were Edwin’s. I thought I found him. I was about to wake him up, but then I saw a pack of cigarettes. Good thing I didn’t wake that guy. Can you imagine what he would have thought!!”

“Honebadger tired.”- Big Shot Becker, getting off the shuttle van at our apartments after several days spent at the training center.

After Chuck Norris left the classroom on Tuesday, SoccerDad walked to the front of the room.”Oh, look what he left behind!…”. Everyone in the room looks up eagerly to see what could be left on the desk. SoccerDad turns around *finger*. Well played, sir.

“I remember the first time I used a wrench.” -Tommy giving SoccerDad a hard time. Sayings like this can be heard all.day.long. They are usually combatted with several fingers, fired in a hand gun.

“What are all these police cars doing here…? Oh, it’s the f&$%ing Christmas parade.”-Jake, driving us through town on the way home.

“In Tulsa there’s the Mullet-Mart. This is the Meth-Mart.”-Jake commenting on a Wal Mart as we passed in on our way home.

We have all pondered what makes Jake organize the schedule the way he does. How is it determined who works with whom and in what order?  Before this job, the madness was revealed. Jake, “I have a random number generator. It is based on the background noise on a radio that picks up signals from the edge of the universe.” And so it its, the universe decides.

“Laila, you’ve got sh!t all over your face.” -Tommy

“Yes I know.”-Laila

“Especially right around here… ” *gestures to his own upper lip area* “It looks like…” -T

“Like I have a mustache?”-Laila

“It looks like someone Sanchezed you.”-T

I have previously described another instructor at the training center. I have previously referred to him as BurmeseMan. I would like to elaborate on this character and emphasize the extreme hilarity he provides in everyone’s lives. Let’s give him a more fitting name. I realize this will be useless, as I am leaving the training center is a matter of days and will never interact with this man again. Nevertheless, let’s call him Kung Pow. Kung Pow is old school. He knows no rules and does not give a crap about safety. When we are logging, the cable runs from the back of the truck in a horizontal line through a lower pulley device near the ground. It then runs up vertically and through another upper pulley device several feet in the air. This upper pulley is called the upper sheave. It is a safety policy to never walk under the cable with tension on it. Also, never walk under the upper sheave. We place cones out where the cable is running. Back to Kung Pow. The other day, we witnessed him tripping over a cone and walking under the upper sheave. For imagery, I want you to picture the movie Role Models. Now picture the king of LAIR. This is what Kung Pow reminds me of. A couple of nights ago, Whataberger had a company Christmas party. Since we are just lowly students, we do not get to go. Jake filled us in on the highlights though. Kung Pow wore a white suit.

Thumpin up close.View of our training pad as we drive downt the hill just after sunrise.

 
 
Beatrice and myself indulging in a little afternoon coma. Those blue onesys and the hard hats say Whataberger.

It is important to note that SoccerDad woke us up after this photo by slamming his hand on the counter. I seriously thought a gun went off.