suspicious + fishy = suspishy

Well, I'm up to an entire $10 on the dock for tips this season. I'm sure the baristas make that in one hour... But oh well, yes, I'm jealous in a way, but moreso outraged.

However, despite my lacking extra pocket change, I do get to talk to some pretty interesting people.

Today, I noticed some aged men standing at the top of the dock, enjoying some beer and commented in a manly, completely-un-flirty-tone, "Umm, yeah, there are no open containers allowed on the dock."

They looked at me shocked at first, and then replied, "Oh really? Well, how about if I give you a closed container?"

I rolled my eyes and laughed, thinking, "Oh, silly old men."

Later, as Leah and I were off-loading some fish from a boat, one of the men came up from behind Leah and grabbed her shoulders, spun her around and said, "Hey! Its you again!"

They stood nearby as we carried the tote with both hands sort of helplessly, when one guy commented, "Hey, are you ticklish?"
-Creepy

Also, today, an awkward women with braces nervously completed the paperwork, making sure to ask all the right questions and get all of the proper information about the processing of her fish. I felt bad, but her braces were hilarious. The woman had to be at least 40, so everytime I looked at her, it kind of reminded me of the "MOLE" guy on Austin Powers. (Hey-BRACES! How are you-BRACES! So would you like your fish processed?-BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!) I didn't want her to know that I couldn't stop staring at her BRACES, but I kept thinking of things like:
"Hey, want me to BRACE you as you get off of the boat?"
or
"Wow, that's a really nice, BRACElet you are wearing."
or
"So when is the BRACE?"
or
"I think you need someone to emBRACE you."
or just...
"BRACES!"

fish in the tote, cash in the pocket

I've been pretty consumed by the tourists lately, whew. As many have probably observed, heard, or smelt, I am working at the Fresh Fish Company. My job is to wake up by 8 am so that I can check my email for the daily "list" of boats. I arrive at the Fisherman's Quay and enter the wet, fishy flaps of my workplace, sign in, put on plastic gloves and an apron and begin putting pieces of fish into bags. -Until someone radios in, "Fresh Fish, this is the [insert boat name]."

Then I tear off my apron and gloves, grab some totes and head down to the dock. There, I await boats captained by old men and filled with tourists to bump into the wooden docks and begin offloading. I approach them and begin, "Who has fish that they would like processed today?" A few of them usually raise a hand, and I hand them paper work and they begin filling it out. They ask me numerous questions, and heckle me about the process and fees.

"Yes, we fillet them... And put them into 1-2 person servings... And vaccuum pack them... And freeze them. And yes, you get YOUR fish back."

After they fill out my paperwork, all they can think about are their dear ol' salmon. They want a hundred pictures with the fish, so they throw all of their stuff in my arms, and have me snap pictures. They crinkle their noses and mouths as the salmon slime drips from their hands onto their perfect white shoes, and crisp, light blue jeans. But its ok, its part of the Alaskan experience, and besides, they can always go back to the ship and change.

After the fish are in the tote, and the paperwork is done, it is my job to pull the totes up the dock with a "hand-truck." Ali and I strive to make it an entire day where we do NOT spill a fish while going up the ramp.

My favorite tourist story this season was when I was attempting to help a woman off of a boat as I reached a hand out. She began to grab it, and then become angry!
"You're doing it wrong!"
"Umm... Ok?" I said, and just grabbed a little tighter.
"No! Grab my elbow."
"Umm... Ok?" I said again as I reached further up her arm.
"Uggh, no. You need to grab my elbow and properly support it so I do not fall. You always grab a person by the elbow when you help them up out of something. -Whether its a bed, or a chair, or whatever."
"Alright maam. Thanks for the advice," I said, hoping she was finished lecturing me.
"I'm a nurse. I know these kinds of things," she finished.

Yeah, see if I ever offer a lending hand again...

My tourist story of the day...
A Spanish man named Tito Tarabillo from Texas with pants pulled half way up his body. And his daughter who got gobs of fish blood on her pants.

size 7

The other day, I was fortunate enough to meet an 18-year-old guy, Dustin, from Orlando, Florida. Apparently, he was in town for fishing, but was kicked off his Uncle's boat because he broke the rules... His presence was unfamiliar; perfectly-trimmed, shaggy, blond hair, a tight, bright t-shirt, very, very tight, boot-cut jeans, and a huge pair of black skate shoes. I kept finding myself staring at his second layer of skin... Err... Jeans. He was poured into those things!

Finally, I commented, "Wow, those are some pretty snug pants. Not something you see very often around here on guys... What brand are they?"

He responded, "Element." "Oh, really?" I said, "I think there are pants just like those at the Cellar... Haha..."

"Yeah, probably because that's where I bought them!" He replied.

I was quite surprised, "What!? Are you serious? What size are they?" -I was unconvinced that this guy could seriously be wearing girls' jeans.

"These are a size 7, but sometimes I wear a 5."

"What? This isnt your first time buying tight-ass, girl's pants?"

"Naw, its pretty much all I wear. They're easier to skate in." At this point, I didn't even bother to hide my sneer and laughter. For, I had just met an 18-year-old guy who wore size 7 girls' pants... In Sitka. Hott.

barista babes

"Hey, Tiffany, I need a pink 'Poo,' and a 'mookie.'" -Yells Courtney behind the counter of the Highliner as she refers to a "Poo Bear" which is a cup of flavored steamed milk, and a mookie, which is a muffin/cookie.

Working along side Tiffany and Courtney are more "ee" sounds; Chelsea, Ashley, Becky and Darcie, most of which are blond and beautiful. It seems to be the new glamorous job to have. My mom tells me that in her younger day, the "babes" were Flight Attendants. (Obviously, the standard has been lowered since then. Being a flight attendant now, just requires big, poofy hair, and lots of hairspray and make-up.)

Their daily duties as baristas are quite simple, make coffee and look hot while doing it. Well, the latter part is not really a requirement. However, it is how many make large tips. -Which in fact bugs the poo bear out of me. I work down at the dock all day, rain or shine, hauling large totes of fish up the dock. But do I receive tips? No. Instead, my customers get off the boat, throw their fish at me after countless questions, and head over to the coffee shop and buy a $4 cup of coffee, and leave the perky-breasted, blond, airhead a $2 tip for her two-minutes of work.

Who started this trend of over-tipping baristas? I believe we ought to go on strike. No more tips for cute coffee girls. Its out of control... The other day, I was talking about my softball team, and I referred to Julia in front of a strange old man (33 years old) and rather than saying, "Oh, that great shortstop?", he said, "Oh, you mean that hot chick that makes coffee at Lakeside?"

Yeah, I am jealous of all you coffee gals, so don't expect a tip from me... I'll give you my change if it doesn't include any quarters or dollar bills.

the ship

Fifty-one years later... We bring home two state titles. Heck yes! Things got intense during our game against the Homer Mariners when the score was 3-2 (Sitka just barely ahead) and the rain storms began. We still won, however. Later that day, our games were postponed due to lightning and thunder. The boys' game against Homer was also pretty intense. The Sitka fan club was by far louder and prouder than the Mariners' fans throughout the last of the 14 innings. Everything about Sitka winning was an athlete's dream come true. And now, a fond memory.

As for non-athletic occurences...

Tommy Stonebreaker threw a rock at a squirrel and actually hit it and killed it. Tawny is still in possession of the squirrel tail (which "broke off").

Everyone donated lots of blood to Alaska's new state bird, the mosquito.

Syrup chugging contest forces Sean to up-chuck.

Umm... Other people can comment on things that stick out to them because my memory isnt the freshest.