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farmerart

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I have had an interesting couple of days up here in northern Canada at our isolated frontier bush camp. We required the services of a geophysical consultant for some specialized analysis. Our go-to Calgary company was happy to oblige and two days ago I drive a 4X4 to the air strip to meet the DC-3 bringing in supplies and this consultant. To my slack-jawed surprise the consultant turns out to be an exceedingly hot young woman. It is obvious by her clothes that she has never been to a camp such as ours before. She is wearing designer jeans, an Eddie Bauer vest, and LL Bean duck shoes. I am wearing thigh-high rubber boots, a filthy rubber mud suit, and a dented hard hat. I also stink of diesel.<br />
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She looks down her nose at me and asks me to get her Louis Vuitton suitcase from the plane.<br />
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&quot;I understand that farmerart, the owner of the company is here. Could you please take me to his office?&quot;, she asks me politely.<br />
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&quot;I&#39;m farmerart&quot;, I tell her.<br />
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&quot;Oh!&quot;, is her incredulous reply.<br />
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&quot;You&#39;ve never been to a bush camp before, have you?&quot;, I ask. &quot;This camp is entirely male and you will be here for three days until the next DC-3 flight south. Do you think you can handle it? You can get right back on the plane and return south if you want.&quot;<br />
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&quot;Of course I can&quot;, she replies haughtily.<br />
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I am giggling inside. I take her to the shack where she will be sleeping and tell her that I will rig some privacy for her since she will be sharing the modular unit with three guys. I continue the tour of the camp, showing her the kitchen shack for meals and the office shack where she will be working. She is beginning to realize that this is not 5-star accommodation.<br />
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Later that day when the guys come in for the evening meal she realizes EXACTLY what she is facing for the next three days. The first words she hears as we sit down for the evening meal are:<br />
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&quot;Hey f**khead, pass the f**kin&#39; butter so I can make these f**ked up potatoes taste like something different than moose s**t!&quot; Priceless! 3 f-bombs in one sentence! This is how guys talk to each other in isolated camps. The girl turns bright red with embarrassment and tries to look inconspicuous in her chair. She also readily picks up on the throbbing testosterone level being generated by 34 guys who haven&#39;t even seen a woman for almost three weeks.<br />
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After the meal is over I lay down the law to the boys about respecting the young woman&#39;s privacy for the next three days but I know that it is useless to ask them to sanitize their vocabularies. That stuff just flows like beer from a draft spout and I am as guilty as any of my guys.<br />
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To her credit the young woman has worked diligently for two days and has handled the boys rather well. I got her kitted out in proper work clothes for her visit to the rigs as she examined logs and cores but it is easy to see that she is almost overwhelmed with conditions at the hard end of the oil and gas industry. She will be heading back to Calgary on Saturday&#39;s DC-3.<br />
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All this got me to thinking about my entry into the SC world a little over a year ago. I was as green in that world as this young geophysicist is in my world. It took me a while to get acclimatized to the intricacies of dealing with hot young dancers (and I am still learning with each visit to a SC) and it remains to be seen if this young consultant can get used to my world. If she produces the &quot;goods&quot; for me like a hot dancer can do in the VIP I would happily be a &quot;regular&quot; for this young geophysical consultant.<br />
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Even if her fees are MUCH more than $20/song and $100/BJ!!<br />
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&nbsp;</p>