Book One, Chapter Three

At last, we made it offshore for my break out job. I did the same casing inspection that Albert had done a month prior for his break out.

Things I did not consider when I told my recruiters “I would love any offshore location”

1. I get very sea sick.

2. I am very sensitive to drowsiness in sea sickness pills.

3. I get motion sick when on a personnel basket.

4. I can’t help myself when on a personnel basket and I start to lean back and forth, rocking the basket and scarring the other passengers. This does not help my cause in #3.

5. No cell phone service.

6. The humidity makes my hairs do this:

However, all these things do not begin to chip away at the way I feel after 3 days of little to no sleep when I have finished my job, submitted my data, and can tell the crew “We’re going home as soon as we get ourselves on that boat!”

I felt great. I felt high on oil field life and full of energy*. After arriving to the shop, I called my parents to tell them I was safe and back on land. The conversation went more or less like this:

Dad: Hello

Me: Assalamu Alaikum (Peace be upon you- its how we say hello)

Dad: Wa Alaikum Asalam (back at you)

Me: Hey dad, what’s up

Dad: Oh, Hi! It’s you! Where are you calling from.

Me: I’m calling from my cell phone!! Did you not recognize me?

Dad: No, you sound totally different. You must be very tired.

Yes, my own father did not recognize my voice (or apparently my phone number), as I was so tired.

My official promotion is pending on my manager’s discretion during our job debrief, to take place tomorrow. However, I am calling this the end of Chapter Two: Junior Status. We may now begin Chapter Three: Job Bonu$.

Let’s recap some of my favorite things in my first few months as a new engineer in Houma:

The land of milk and honey. By milk and honey, I mean Crawfish and Mosquitos.

I have met some of the most interesting, hard working people in the world. Never underestimate the power of a bitter oil field service hand.

Little things, Like reeling up a Red Snapper from 200 ft below the surface and 150 feet up to a rig, can make a wireline job much more rewarding.

I can wear a onesy to work and hide from my managers in crew boxes from 8-5.

Straight clowning.

One of many men in my life, Jerome.

Playing with my Benelli Super Nova 12 gauge pump gun and the Southern Shooting Center, where Rupert calls us all retards.

The dream of a hurrication

I get to look at this name tag every day. It is on the door to one of my managers office.

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