Bligh turned up yesterday at that... place. He was in his usual 'good' spirits. Having failed to return from Tahiti with breadfruit, it surprised me that he arrived by row-boat and not onboard the Bounty. Seemingly there was some kind of altercation or rebellion onboard while he was away. Anyhow.
At that... place, it was moderately busy. There were only three delivery drivers on. The older thug would have probably "pushed" (a word they use for working hard, seemingly) and got everything done. Had I been in command (an unlikely eventuality, seeing as I am middle aged, experienced, and extremely well educated) I would have sent one driver out east, one west, and one in the locality. Certainly what Bligh did was ban any drivers from going any distance beyond a half mile from the store. It reminded me of that time a customer rang up asking where there order was, and I replied, "I'm afraid we cannot deliver to you. The store manager has said so." "So what you're telling me, is that the store manager can't manage the store." "That is precisely what I am telling you Sir."
It's not actually that bad (though this is a veritable record of the truth - notwithstanding the breadfruit/rowboat bit) as the crew are not actually beaten (well, not that often). Bligh has forgiven me, on occasion, for my insubordinate remarks, and I am fortunate to still be working there (if the adjective "fortunate" can be used for someone that holds a master's degree in classical Latin being permitted to do the same job he did when he was 14, when he is 44 - unskilled labour for minimum wage at the behest of thugs and teenaged "superiors").
The luthier called me up, and he has done a marvellous job of my table, which was nice. Today I am racing to get a book formatted for the deadline (Boadicea: Queen of the Iceni), so I must dash.
Max.
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