Hunting Before Work May Have Been a Bad Idea

   8:59.  Shit. Shit. Shit.  I'm late.

     It was a glorious Wednesday morning when DU shook me awake at 3:30am.  A light frost had taken hold of the southern ground and conditions were just screaming GET UP AND GO DUCK HUNTING, MY LITTLE CAMO CLAD LOVEBIRDS! Not being ones to mess with mother nature's silent and slightly creepy commands, we sailed forth to the seas of waterfowl destruction. 

    DU, his buddy, Bridges, and I piled into the toasty, warm truck then sped to our duck hole.  Double of everything was needed that morning and even that failed to completely ward off the chilly bite of the morning freeze.  I adjusted our various hunting implements within the blind while the menfolk dealt with the schematics of our decoy spread for the morning.  Gigantic geese floated merrily while wood ducks nervously settled in their wake near shore.  Across the pond, mallards mulled around a drake stuck to a pole who's wings frantically circled in a never-ending Sisyphus-esque attempt to take off into the sky.  All seemed well until the sun's rays caught up with the receding darkness, bathing our spread in morning glow.  We realized that Bridges failed to unhook a trio's weights and now the unanchored woodies were confusedly floating around the stagnant water, unknowingly ruining our hunt.

   The sun rose, the frost fizzled away and before I could even become aware of it, the time I had planned to leave was fast approaching.   Disbelieving the time on the clock, I walked swiftly to my car (in full waders and face paint) and attempted to get to work on time.

   It was just after nine when I pulled into work.  Being the day before Thanksgiving break, I was lucky in that my boss had not yet graced the office with his appearance.  I loaded my "work" clothes (Read: camo hoodie, dirty jeans, and faux crocodile skin boots- working in publishing is awesome.) into my hunting backpack and attempted to sneak into the back door.  Sneaking is difficult under normal circumstances, like when you're 18 coming home absolutely wasted trying to be "quiet" as to not wake up your parents and proceeding to knock down the Christmas tree, but I was sporting waders. [ For those of you who do not waterfowl hunt, let me explain.  Waders suck.  They are gigantic rubber gloves that encompass the entire half of a hunter's body.  They come in various water-repelling materials but mine are made of pure rubber which make walking treacherous at best.]

   I slowly opened the door and saw that no one was in the back.  Success!  my prematurely victorious brain shouted.  Stealthily making my way to the bathrooms, I heard a voice call over the buzz of the printers, Lisa what are you wearing!?!??!?" Crap.  So now I can't shirk off my being late because my dog was having separation anxiety and I had to reassure him that I would indeed come back and NO for the eightieth time, NO I was not leaving forever.  After bribing my co-worker into keeping my tardiness quiet in exchange for venison jerky,  I escaped to the bathroom.

  Emerging 10 minutes later,  fresh-faced and wader-free, I sat down at my desk and started up my computer.  Sifting through e-mails turned my previous nature-filled brain into a mass of work-hating mush.  Then the phone rang.
  The actual conversation went like this:

   Me: Good morning. Thank you for calling ________ Publishing. This is Lisa, how can I help you?

   Angry Customer: Hi Lisa this is _______.

   Me:  Oh Hi _____. I was just about to call you!

   Angry Customer: I'm sure you were.  Where are my books?

   Me: It seems they are going to be delayed for a couple of days.  We had technical malfunctions that were beyond our control and as a result, our printing had to be shut down for a day.

  Angry Customer:  This is a joke.  I have a client's book signing on Saturday and they NEED to be in Indiana by then. 

   Me: I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience but we're working as hard as we can to get the books out as soon as humanly possible. The date you were supplied with was tentative and in the contract, it does stipulate that books may be delayed because of malfunctions.

  Angry Customer: (hyperbole sigh) Well what can you do to ensure that the books will get there by Saturday?

   Me: The press team is working on them as we speak and we can talk about over-night shipping free of charge if it gets to that.

  Angry Customer: I guess that works.  If that's the best you can do. Are you going to e-mail me as soon as they're done?

  Me: Yes, Ma'am of course I will.

  Angry Customer: Okay well then I'll be waiting for your confirmation.  Bye.
                - dial tone-

  However, in my still-hunting brain, the conversation went more like this:

    Me: Good morning. Thank you for calling ________ Publishing. This is Lisa, I hate my job and I'd rather be hunting, how can I help you?

   Angry Customer: Hi Lisa this is _______.

   Me:  Oh Hi _____. I was just in the woods and care little to none about your books or whatever problem you have with them!

   Angry Customer: I'm sure you were.  Where are my books?

   Me: Well, Ma'am, your books suck. And given that they are horrific literature, our printers realized that and refused to print them.  They have a syndrome that regurgitates bad writing.  It's pretty common but completely out of our control.

  Angry Customer:  This is a joke.  I have a client's book signing on Saturday and they NEED to be in Indiana by then. 

   Me: I'd say I'm sorry that your books are going to be late but in all reality, I'm not. Your client's book signing is probably at some low-budget strip-mall that no one will come to.  How about this, I'll send myself to Indiana, you pay the postage and I'll go duck hunting. It's a win-win! I'm happier and your client won't be shamed when their bogus book signing goes down the tubes!

  Angry Customer: (hyperbole sigh) Well what can you do to ensure that the books will get there by Saturday?

   Me: Nothing! Muahahahhahah!

  Angry Customer: I guess that works.  If that's the best you can do. Are you going to e-mail me as soon as they're done?

  Me: No, you pretentious idiot woman! I'll keep you in suspense until the books get done, anywhere from now until May.

  Angry Customer: Okay well then I'll be waiting for your confirmation.  Bye.
                -dial tone-

 Me:  WHAT? Didn't your mother ever tell you hanging up on people is RUDE!??!? You fantastically inept drain on my life! You probably carry a rat-dog around in a purse with you at all times don't you?  You think animals have feelings and that hunting is wrong because it hurts animals with big eyes and cute spots? I'm sure you LOVE PETA but eat steak like it's your job! HYPOCRITE!!!  I'm going to make it my personal mission to ensure these books are NEVER PRINTED. 

    It was after I realized the phone was nesting in its cradle that I was screaming at it in my head, starting with devil eyes, praying that the woman on the other end of the line felt my fatal glare. Immediately following that revelation, I came to understand that hunting before work may have been a bad idea.