But this wasn't just any bottle of grey poupon. This was a three pound jug of it. And with all the BS I spout and as prone to exaggeration as I may be, this is one hundred percent reality. The jug was so big, I read the contents and saw '3 lbs.' in all it's glory. I literally haven't even seen a bottle of French's that big.
I guess it's fitting though. The Katie Ann is trying to improve her image and attract a more capable crew that sticks around. And we all know that nothing quite screams credibility like a big bottle of grey poupon. I can see it now, we're steaming along on our way to the Bering Sea and on the way up a container ship pulls up along port and some clown in a hard hat calls across the way to the deck boss, "Pardon me. But would you happen to have any grey poupon?" Our grizzled deck boss busts out with this cauldron of it and says, "Indeed we do."
So if you're rolling in a bently eating prime rib in the back, you have the little 4 ounce job to kinda lazily spread it about your fine china and when you're rolling in a factory trawler, you have a drum of it with a hand cranked pump. I guess it's just the natural progression. Joe hurt himself on the job yesterday and is taking about a week off. I wonder if the first engineer, Ky, might have inspired a case of Ky-itis and Joe didn't just fake an ankle roll. I wouldn't be joking about it if it were more serious, but every day I hear about how the VC in the engine room makes work unbearable. Which brings me to my next point. I asked for more hours since Joe is gone so work with Ky. Twelve hour shifts is kinda making me soft so I'm going for sixteens now. Pfft.