Furious Cucumber

I decided to be the change I wanted to see; I organized a party.  Inspired by my predecessor egg line instructor from last year, I knew the best way to bridge the galley gulf, the perilous gap between cooks and stewards, to unite those of us who mop: after-work team-building beverages.  And like that somewhat wise man last year, I knew there was one perfect place for this event—the Hotel California lounge.  HoCal is rather rusticated at this point, but it was one of the first for-real dorm buildings on station.  It’s on the opposite side of town from all the other dorms, and has, for the most part, a transient population, housed primarily in two large bunk rooms, or man-camps.  Unlike one of the bars or my own lounge, there is about 0% chance of running into one of my bosses.  When I arrived to commandeer the lounge, two nice middle-aged guys were watching “Frozen,” and responded enthusiastically to my interruption.

It’s pretty easy to lure people with the promise of free alcohol, but I bumped up the enticement quotient by advertising a “signature cocktail.”  This consisted of me soaking cucumber slices in a fifth of gin, then adding some lime juice, tonic, ice, and, for culinary flair, parsley.  A refreshing summer sipper that paired well with a sunny evening on the back porch deck.  I came up with alternative nametags for everyone—I had time to kill, I don’t know most people’s actual names, and I hoped to spark spirit-animal-related conversation.  Some that I remember now are:

Wet Squirrel

Bedazzled Whale

Confused Panda

Sagacious Eel

The Jolly Snail

Meeeeeeeooow

So that was fun.  Unfortunately, that night my sore throat crossed over into awful-cold territory, and I won’t get to partake in tonight’s Halloween shenanigans. 

In other news this week, I got quite close to three seals sleeping heavily.  Close enough to watch their nostrils open and close to breathe, and hear adorable motorboat-like snores every so often.  Pupping season is upon us, and I’m going to imagine some of the flipper-waving and stomach-scooting action presages baby seal-slugs to come.

Here's an ethereal picture someone else took last year of a seal underwater: