Fifth Duty Crew

I'm reluctant to post about my fifth duty crew, mainly because it would read just like duty crews 1, 2, 3, and 4, but there was a brief moment of humor this time, so post I shall.

I arrived a hair late, again, due to some jackass turning his truck over on the highway. It's that type of compassion and caring for other human beings that drove me to want to be a firefighter in the first place. My zeal for humanity is unfuckingfathomable.

The engine had been pulled out but it was shut off. I asked Ernst if they had checked it out.

Ernst - "Yep, we checked it out."
Me - "But it's off, how'd you check the hydraulics?"
Ernst - "Well, we went through all the compartments to make sure everything is there."
Me - "Oh. Do you mind if we start the truck so I can check things out the way we're supposed to?"
Ernst - "I guess, but we really shouldn't start that chainsaw and K12 every shift, that'll tear up the motor. The day shift starts them in the morning, so I trust that it'll run if we need it tonight.
Me - "I guess that means you've already talked to the day shift and they said they fired them up?"
Ernst - "Of course."

Okay, so most are thinking that wasn't funny, but it was. See, Ernst DIDN'T ask anyone about firing up the tools. He doesn't do it. He didn't check out shit. He never checks out shit. The best part is - He think's I'm buying it. That's why it's funny.

See?

Whatever, nothing is ever funny once it has to be explained.

So we went to eat, again. Hemorrhoid and his mom were there. His mom runs on the rescue side of the house and seems to be a relatively well-adjusted woman. The only explaination that I can think of that would explain his being a total asshat while she remains relatively unaffected has to be that she accidentally bludgeoned the soft spot on his head when he was a child. That, or his surrogate mom is Marge Schott. My confusion was pretty obvious, until I witnessed her paying for his meal, which means she too must have some sort of late onset retardation. If Hemorrhoid were my son, not only would he pay for his own meals, his every bite would be painful due to the swollen mouth chewing it; similiarly, my typing this post would be agonizing because of the horribly disfigured knuckles I would have from our extended 'discussions'.

During the drive back to the station I asked Ernst (with barely masked sarcasm) "So, what sort of training do you have planned tonight?"

I only relay his response for the sake of accuracy, because, in the high-falutin' words of the well-heeled, it was a fait accompli:

"We're not training. I'm relaxing tonight. I don't sit behind a desk every day, I work with my hands, therefore I don't have the energy to train. I blah blah blah blah no. No way I'll blah blah blah. Training is blah blah. "

He then followed up the discourse with, "Of course, if there's a structure fire, I'm all over it. I'll douse that thing stat."

I do not know how to fight fires, however, I soon will. I assume that, at one point, Ernst did know how to fight fires, but I don't think he gets to keep the priviledge of the present tense on that verb until there is some display of ability in the present. I just cannot intellectually allow someone to talk so much, and act so little, without categorizing it in my mind as bombast.

This is actually a bit of an issue for me, and I've downgraded many an aquaintance based on it. People love to talk about what they've done because they believe that their historical successes ensure future victory - or even more annoying, they think it convinces others that they are capable of future victory. Bullshit. Just like they say in the world of finance, "Past performance is not necessarily an indicator of future results." The only indicator of current or future success is what one is capable of right now.

The good news is that the occasion of a proving ground will eventually present itself and the veracity of the claims will be tried in the court of action. I think most would agree that there is nothing quite like the call to action for drawing a deep line of demarcation between those that can, and everyone else. I hope to be a member of the former, I'll quit if I'm a member of the latter.

On a final note, I ran the maze again with Chuck and Hemorrhoid watching. This time, I was using air, carrying an axe, and had a washrag stuffed in my facemask to blind me. The last part was a bit gratuitious, since pure darkness is all that can be expected in the maze.

I started off on a cylinder with 1000 psi left. This sucked for a few reasons: 1.) 1000 psi equals about 5 minutes for me. 2.) A full cylinder is 4500 psi, and when it's depleted to 1000 the mask starts to buzz and vibrate like a cheap massage chair.

So there I was in full gear, axe in hand, blind, and buzzing like a consultant that won't answer his fucking Blackberry. Perfect.

I made it about halfway through when I sucked dry. I called mayday and they came and switched my cylinder. I then had to find my way back to the point I left off, recover my axe, and finish the maze. I did so in about 4 minutes. Not bad considering that I've really been given very little guidance on how to actually go through the maze. I've also not seen the maze, which I understand to be quite an advantage.

I did learn one technique going through this time. There are a few places where turning around is impossible, and tucking into a hole almost chokes me out. My helmet got caught in one of these places, and instead of holding my breath and contorting to get it through, I just slammed it down until it broke free. Not terribly graceful, but it worked. The chinstrap left a little rasberry on my jaw. Pretty cool. It would look badass except for the fact that it's the color of my mom's lipstick.

After I got out and doffed my gear they brought my axe out. I had left it on the steps once I had finished.

Chuck: "One absolute rule that can never be broken: you are ALWAYS responsible for your tool. Don't make that mistake again."
Me: "Yeah, that might be a problem, because there have been a few times when I was VERY irresponsible with my tool."