The Port of Baltimore. Dundorph....or something.
I've decided what I want to do when I grow up. I want to work at a port. I pulled in to the gate. The guard was on the phone. When she got to a stopping place in her undoubtedly important conversation, (it was absolutely entertaining....she laughed and giggled a LOT) then she took care of letting me enter the port.
I then went to the check in office. Had to wait in line. No telling where the guy was that was to check me in, he was gone. When he got back he had "other stuff" to do before he got to me. Then I had to go see another guy, and another...finally got the paperwork done.
It's now two hours since I drove in the gate.
I pull around to the crane.
I've seen turtles move faster.
Watching those guys work was like watching paint dry.....only not as exciting.
It's now four hours since I drove in the gate.
Nope....couldn't get to me. Come back in the morning.
That's what I want to be when I grow up. A port "worker."
If they're getting paid ANYTHING it's too much for what they're producing. They certainly never get tired. No doubt there are benifits. (vacation, sick pay, retirement, medical...all of which I don't have)