The Campfire

Gather round all, this is our Story thread. Grab a beer, and take a seat.


Share, and swap stories here. Leave a like there, and as always keep hands and feet outside the fire at all times.

 

I'm in @Tundra2
I say we kick this thread off with your recent workplace bathroom story.
That'll let people know how this thread is going to go down.

 

Work in. Utility trade and work out of my truck. And I shit about 10x a week in plastic bag lined bucket! ... and I’m starting Not to mind it

 

Not exactly
You're in for a treat!

 

Sure hope the next story is better.

 

"It was a cold and windy night.............................."

 

I just grabbed me a whiskey and coke, a chair and slid up by the campfire. One of you jackasses start with some stories!

 

Here is some quotes from the 1st gen lunchtable. I haven't had time to organize all my stories there yet. Link to original post


Well, here goes another Tundra2 story for you all to laugh at me, or with me.

Tonight, after an emergency jog to the porcelain pot of discharge, and threats of being written up for said jog...

I sat there in pain, and then relief. I looked up with tears in my eyes, and felt a moment of solace. The first I'd felt in many, many days.

I looked around the dull room, and my moment of peace was broken by the realization that there was no TP for my bunghole. I looked at the paper towel dispenser. "Fuck me, what are the odds?" I said.

Both were barren. I opened the filing cabinet where we house extra rolls. "Oh, c'mon... really? Just, wow..."

I check the rag drawer. One rag has grease on it. At least, it looked like grease. Uh-uh. That ain't happenin'. The drawer was otherwise barren.

Here I sat, my pants around my ankles, head hung low, and I evaluated my options in my head.

"Can I go get some, and come back?" No, that won't work because other than in here I don't know where we keep the paper products.

"Can I go to another bathroom?" No, the next closest one didn't have any either. That's why you came here you fucking still.

"What can I afford to lose tonight? A sock?" No, that won't do. Not with the way my feet are.

"Shit..."

I scan the room one last time, and I see a candidate. Looks like wet wipes. I turn the tube around and see. Clorox, disinfectant wipes. Kills corona. Safe on stainless steel, granite, and finished wood.

"Meh, how bad can it be?" I open the tube, and remove a single wipe. Immediately, I knew I'd just fucked up.



I was completely committed to this terrible decision, and I cleaned myself up. I put my pants on like a big boy, and then I saw it.

TP for my bunghole hidden between the cabinet and the shelf....

My thoughts were, "Welp, its 2021 I guess."

 

Link to original post

Okay, story time as mentioned earlier. Flash back to January 2009. Think about what you were doing. Where you were in life.

I was 11. I remember when the rain started. I remember thinking "well it's just rain. No biggie." I went to bed.

I woke up, and pops was still home. I thought that was weird. He told me that he tried to go to work but couldn't get up tooley hill. I asked why, and he took me to front porch.

We went outside, and stood there. Everhthung as far as I could see was covered in ice. Thick, heavy ice.

We stood there, and I told him that I wanted to get dressed to go play in it. He grabbed me by the arm as I started to run off, and jerked me back.

He waived that index finger in my face, and said "Listen to me Noah. You keep your little butt in this house. You understand me? Theres...."

Just then I heard a loud pop. One of the big tree branches had cracked under the weight of the ice. He continued with "that's why. The trees are unpredictable right now. The last thing we need is for you or anyone else to be in the yard and one of them come down. It'd be bad."

I got dressed, and as I was sliding my boots on the power went out. We walked to the end of the driveway, and I started sliding down the road. I slipped, and busted my whole ass. I hit my noggin pretty good there too. Pops helped me up, and we stood in the grass.

I asked questions, and he answered them. Eventually he told me to hush.

We stood in silence as we listened to trees popping, creaking, groaning, and straining under the weight of the ice. Every 15 seconds there was a new "pop." I would say every 45 seconds a new tree limb would fall to the forest floor.

The sound was amazing as there were no other sounds. Just limbs and trees falling over. No birds. Nothing. Just trees falling.

We went back in the house, and we loaded up the essentials. We went to granmas house. She lived down the road a ways.

Papaw and I made a trip to the med depot every two days because grandma was on oxygen. That was always hairy because he couldn't see all that great.

Dad drove up to Hart County to buy a generator from my uncle. That's normally a 3 hour drive. It took him 4 to get there in the Tundra.

He left me in charge of my dying grandmother, my incapable grandfather, my older brother, my younger brother, the neighbors house, the other neighbors house, and the other other neighbors house while he was gone.

I made rounds. I would check on us first. Then I'd check on the other three houses. One had regular log fireplace, and I split frozen wood for them after I'd checked on the other two houses. Frozen firewood sucks...

All I had was a 20 lb maul, and a 5 lb axe. Both dull as hell. I split more wood those two weeks than I ever have since.

We had never played so many card games. I was ready to whip some ass the next time I'd heard "Go fish..." Monopoly was good. Board games were a favorite by all. Even grandma would "play." She was very weak so she would sit in her chair and we would roll for her, and read her cards to her. She would tell us what she wanted to do, and we would do it.

Good times. Mamaw passed away two years later. Tough ole bird survived the ice storm.

 

These are all out of chronological order.

I'll come back tomorrow and edit these all for proper order.

 

Shitty!

 

I betcha Elk Hunter could provide a story, where’s Elk Hunter????!

 

Talking to my buddy yesterday and he tells me about his friend and the shit he just went through. Middle aged guy. Tall and decent shape. He works in a fly shop up around Glenwood Springs.
Anyway, he’s playing golf with a few buddies, takes a swing and has a shit ton of pain in his chest area. He shrugs it off as a pulled muscle or something. The pain continues and his buddies tell him to stop so he heads home. The pain is worse so he heads to the ER. He then gets rushed via copter to an ER in Denver. Turns out the dude tore his freaking aorta in a golf swing. He lived and is recovering but the Doc said in almost all cases it’s death. Your blood just pools up in your heart. Lucky bastard.
Story over.

 

Damn. Scary shit. A friend of the family had a similar situation. But he's the kind of guy that never goes to the doctor. So he walks in after work not feeling well, pale, sweaty, and fatigued. No pain. States he needs to go to the hospital something's not right. Wife instantly knows something is up if he's requesting to go be seen. Gets to the hospital and they do a CT scan. He flown to portland or so we thought. In flight, a cardio thoracic surgeon from Portland is in Richland and calls to tell them to see him he's closer, a 20 minute flight vs 2 hrs to Portland. The only reason he is still with us is that flight change. He never would have made it if he had to go all the way to Portland. Aneurysm and dissections are scary stuff, especially for those that have them and are unaware..

 

Wow! Crazy how things work out like that.

 

Let this motha burn!!!

 

Fate man. I'll always believe things happen for a reason.

 

My dad & my cousin (dad's blood nephew) both had ascending aortic aneurysms (AAA). Both @ age 44. Both were doing nothing & BAM! They both survived, barely. Dad got a synthetic aorta & cousin got the pig aorta. Synthetic w/good insurance & pig for shitty/no insurance. Dad got 22+ year warranty on his & my cousin has to have his replaced every 10-15 years.

 

Good luck to them both. Not simple procedures. Glad they made it through they ruptures, not a high percentage do. Have you been checked? Maybe a familial trait

 

They both have heavy drug & alcohol abuse in their pasts which I do not.

 

Good on you for not going down those paths but that has nothing to do with genetics. Jus' sayin'

 

Ha! No shit? I have something called thoracic outlet syndrome so my vascular & cardiac systems have had all possible tests imaginable. I have a 50 year old brother & he hasn't had it. My dad's brother is 74 & he's good. My cousin has 2 brothers that are 48 & 52 & they're good.

 

The date was April 26th 2010.

My alarm went off at 0500 and I was ready for work by 0600. As I settled into my squad car for the long shift ahead, I transmitted to dispatch that I was on duty. The dispatcher immediately responded with, “come to the office you have a rider”. In my mind I'm thinking, "this shift just got a lot longer"

I arrived at the office and my Sergeant greets me with my rider. Ian, a former squad mate, had returned from deployment in Afghanistan. He required a 2 week refresher course on any new policies and procedures. Instead of spending the day with a stranger, I got to catch up with an old friend. Ian and I attended the morning briefing and eventually headed out for patrol. As we approached the squad car, I tossed Ian the keys and said, "You got everything including the paperwork, I'm not doing shit!" We were both Military Veterans and experienced officers. He laughed and said “I got this”!

That morning we bounced off of several radio calls involving some cold burglaries, thefts and even a smashed mailbox. Apparently some kids had fun in the middle of the night with a bat. We used the time between calls to talk about his experiences in Afghanistan and how he was enjoying being back stateside. He had only been home a few short weeks before coming back to work as a Deputy Sheriff. Like most military members, he just had to stay busy.

At 1230 we pulled into Port-of-Subs for lunch break. We had just started to eat when Dispatch gave us a Domestic Disturbance call. A back-up single man unit was dispatched as well. Dispatch advised us the reporting person claimed her boyfriend fired a gun at her as she fled their residence in her vehicle. The boyfriend was reportedly following her in a white truck firing at her as they drove down local streets. She was planning to seek protection at the local casino.

We headed towards the casino while looking for the white truck occupied by the boyfriend. As we pulled into the casino and prepared to exit the vehicle, a white compact car pulled in front of us. Ian was placing the gear shifter in park, (in what appeared to be only a second) the suspect exited and fired 25 rounds from an AK47 to the front of our squad car.

I took cover on the ground between 2 parked cars as I attempted to get my gun out. As the driver, Ian was trapped in the line of fire and took 4 rounds center mass. A split second later, I came up with my G21 but it was over. The suspect had been killed by the single man Patrol unit dispatched with us. He had just happened to pull in behind the suspect vehicle and watched everything unfold... he fired 3 lethal shots ending the threat. Ian died that day at the age of 26. I lasted 6 more years before I put in my papers to retire. The badge had lost its luster...

Sorry for the depressing story guys, tomorrow is the 11th Anniversary...

 

Damn, sorry man.
Depressing story yeah, but glad you shared it.
Happy you guys got to have a kick ass morning together before the chaos.