The Decline of Farmer Smith

I work on a farm…….with mexicans……no, excuse me, mexicanoes. Don Ball (of Ball Homes) owns a 640 acre farm off of Old Frankfort Pike and that is where I have been spending 8+ hours of my days. I grew up doing manual labor with my father so the work is not so bad, actually it is kind of liberating in a way. There is something refreshing about being out in the middle of creation watching butterflies flutter past you and Canadian geese honk in formation overhead. I also enjoy improving my Spanish with my fellow employees. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I would rather slide down a rusty razor blade into a pool of alcohol than thatch Mr. Ball’s lawn, but I try to stay positive. Anyway, I have had a series of boneheaded incidents occur to me that is, without a doubt, worth mentioning. Check this out:

Incident Numero Uno

It was my first day on the job. I was using the bathroom (banto). I was also reading the paper. You have to understand that the bathroom that I was occupying is beyond dirty. Old paint cans and rusted auto parts were spread all over the floor barely giving me enough room to rest my feet on the ground, and there was stuff all over the back of the toliet (I was praying that it was motor oil…God only knows). So, while I was “busy,” all of the sudden, two huge rats fly across the floor inches from my feet. I jumped and let out a muffled screech, which is not a good thing to do mid-relief. After I finished, composed myself, and checked for other intruders, I left the bathroom. Gary, the mechanic, was waiting for me with a smile on his face. He then gladly proclaimed, “I see you met Trixie and Dixie!” Let’s move on.

Incident Numero Dos

Still first day. I’m driving this enormous truck that they have so appropriately deemed “The Beast.” I finished some business in the vineyard and came back to the garage to eat some lunch. I stop the truck, push the emergency brake, and exit the mammoth on wheels. I close the door. Unfortunately, they forgot to tell the new employee that The Beast’s emergency brake doesn’t work. Beastie starts to roll backwards…down a slight hill. I sprint to the door, fling it open, and attempt to jump in while it is still rolling backward. As I jump in my right foot gets caught in the door, so I have to nearly turn around backwards to stomp on the brake with my left foot. I almost died. Moving on.

Incident Numero tres

Once again…first day. I am driving The Beast. Not only am I driving the gargantuan truck, but I also have a fifteen foot flatbed trailor hitched to the back. Well…aparently I didn’t properly attach the trailor. I’m accelerating around a turn when I hit a bump in the road. No big deal, I’ve hit them before. There is something that catches my attention to my right. I look over and see the once attached trailor sailing down a hill….NOT ATTACHED TO THE BEAST! I slam on my brakes, stall out the truck, and watch as my job slowly desintegrates before my very eyes. The flatbed trailor flies down a hill and violently crashes into an unsuspecting tree. I killed the tree. At this point in the day, I seriously comtemplate just leaving and never returning to that side of town again.

Incident Numero cuatro

I picked up a push mower to load it onto the now properly attached trailor….Burned my friggin’ arm. The burn looked like those crazy alien things that chased around Will Smith in Independence Day.

Incident Numero cinco

The clutch went out on the Beast, so I was forced to travel around the farm in a golf-cart. Literally…it backfires about every 15-20 seconds. It’s about 9 a.m. and I’m not completely awake. I had a rough night sleeping because Mel rearranged the bedroom and now I’m sleeping on the other side of the bed….it had me completely disoreinted. As I’m driving across the farm the morning breeze is blowing in my face which is making my eyes heavy. The cart isn’t going very fast, so there isn’t much to pay attention to as I’m coasting around. I actually fall asleep at the wheel. I am wakened by a F-350 in my face. The driver doesn’t honk his horn because he thinks that I am joking. As I continued to drive right at him, he realizes that I have no sense of humor that early and he needs to get out of my way. He is forced to swerve onto the newly seeded grass, and my cart travels right over the spot that he had once been. I believed he yelled an obscenity. I quickly come too and refuse to look back, apologize, or even acknowledge what had just happened because I was so embarrassed. I just kept driving.
I later found out that he told my supervisor that he needed to start drug testing his employees.

That is all for now…I’ll keep you posted….pray for me.


5 Responses

  1. you’re a goober. I linked you up, why not return the favor and give a brother a plug.

  2. i did, dummy. check the top of the list. love ya, bro.

  3. Man…I figured that i could get a little comment love with this post, but I guess the blognation is boycotting smittycity. What’s the deal, anyway? Is there something that I’m missing?

  4. any dove hunting out there?

  5. nope…plenty of quail though

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