At The End Of The Video, The Fucker Farted On...
." I started to shout, just as Margaret walked in through the door. "Oh Margaret, you're here," I said. "I need you to take notes. Get Bill in here too, two of these three people are his." A few minutes later I sat at an impromptu meeting with Margaret, Bill, Becky, Ryan, and Stacey. Bill Walker is a little older than me and is the assistant manager in charge of sales and marketing. He is a professional salesman from way back and often talks with great pride about having once sold a refrigerator to to an Eskimo. I have never believed that, in fact I have thought it a trifle racist, but he did always impress me in his salesmanship. Ryan and Stacey worked under him. "Okay," I started, "we have a problem." "You're damn right we have a problem," said Bill. "I heard how you threatened job action against Becky yesterday," he said. I was a little taken aback that Bill wasn't on my side. Margaret jumped in saying, "You seriously think it's okay that these three have been naked at work?" "All. . I mean, Linnet..." Go, on, Jeremy." You're the boss, of course, but we could sail round and tie up at the Ha'penny Pier; get a cup of coffee or something?" Good thinking. Let's do that; but you're on the helm, Jeremy. Let's see how you manage."He frowned a little, but she thought it was concentration, rather than irritation. By eleven o'clock they were tying up at the Ha'penny Pier, ready to go and get some coffee in the café.It was good coffee. Mindful of her official role in the relationship – seamanship instructor – she grilled Jeremy over the theory of passage planning; tides, currents, weather, charts and pilotage, provisions, water and fuel ... all the minutiae a sailor has to bear in mind. He answered clearly and concisely, obviously understanding the subject."You know your stuff," she said, "all you need is experience, I think."He nodded, "I've been reading about it; I don't have a problem retaining what I read."They were silent over their coffee for a while, then, "Have you.
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