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Despite the fact, he’s probably the closest thing I have to a friend in this whole world, and when we are out together at a restaurant or whatever, we’ve been mistaken for brothers many times. Neither of us seems to see the resemblance, but enough strangers in bars have made it a point to mention it, so now we just shrug and nod.
“So fish it out!” I grunt back as my eyes find their way back to the screen of my phone. “I’ve got a family thing. I’m flying out tonight.” George pops her head out and growls at Jack, who flips her off with a snarl.
“Fucking dog. Oh, wait, what?” Jack draws his brow together, the sarcasm coming through. “You have a family?”
He’s only half kidding.
“Fuck off,” I answer back. Four letter words are half our vocabulary out here. “Get the fucking bit out of the hole and get back in. You can handle it. I’ll check in.”
The door behind me opens, and I glance around to see the newest guy shuffle in behind me, clearly looking for Jack. “Boss, there’s—”
Jack holds up a hand, silencing him. “Can it wait?”
“I guess.” The guy shrugs and Jack turns back to me.
“And what about the deal with Gloria? You expect me to handle that as well? She called and ripped me a new asshole when I told her about the bit.”
The worm chuckles hearing Gloria’s name, and I hear him mutter something about the surprise she has under her dress and I see red.
I’m not much of a violent man, but there are some things my guys know I won’t tolerate.
One of those things is being disrespectful toward women. Whether or not they were born that way.
I spin around with my arm already out and grab him around the throat, hearing him choke as I pin him up against the dog house door. “You got something to say?”
Out here in the oil field, we have our own set of rules. Straightening out a hand with physical force is just something we do. I once saw a driller swing his boot around like Jackie Chan and knock three teeth out of a drill hand’s mouth for refusing to carry his weight in a critical moment. Just how we operate, good or bad, take it or go home.
The worm, he’s the lowest on the totem pole, chokes out, “Some of the guys told me she was a—”
I get up in his face, and my next words are barely a grunt. “I’m going to let this slide. Just once. You tell those guys I’d better not catch them badmouthing Gloria, or they’ll have me to answer to. Her investments help to pay your salary. Not only that, she’s a woman, and she deserves your respect. You got that?” George helps by snarling and snapping at him from inside my coat.
He nods, and I drop him, turning away as if he’s not even worth my time. It happens again though, he’s going to be looking for a new job and an emergency room. George spins and tucks herself back down in my jacket; her work here is done.
“Just tell her to call my cell,” I say to Jack. “She’ll understand if it takes a day or two longer. She’s just going to give us shit about it.”
With that, Jack shrugs, shakes his head and starts yelling at the worm to grab the last of the samples and deliver them to the mud-logger’s shack and let him know the rig is going to be down for a couple of days. And just like that, things are back to normal.
This is my life. I live out of my truck the majority of the time. I have a house—pretty fucking nice house too—but I’m never there. I let Kara stay there with her daughter, rent free, in exchange for watching over the place while I’m gone.
As for me, I stay in hotels or on-site in a trailer and eat in restaurants or here at the rig when the guys cook in crock pots or on the grill, I make sure they have at each site.
Oil workers work twenty-one days on and seven off, twelve hours a day, but being the owner of eight of my own rigs, not counting the ones I own in partnerships, I work 365/24/7 for the most part.
We’re a rare breed. It’s a tough life for anyone in a relationship; I tell everyone I hire this could end whatever relationship they have and often it does.
So just another reason I’ve not made that a priority in my life. One of many reasons.
Sometimes I envy Kara. Sure, things might not have worked out with her daughter’s dad from a romance point of view, but they still have a connection. They’re friends, and Kara has a family, a life to look back on when she’s old. What will I have except this?
