he Orlando Boys really shined today on the Florida East Coast RR. Bob and I got demerits (me for dropping the wrong car at a siding, him for running over a turnout the wrong way). And John, he didn’t get a demerit – he got summery execution for the horror of what happened up in Frontenac (we won’t speak of it. It involved sixteen coal hoppers, a lot of industrial track and a whole bunch of time).
I still think I got the short end of it. If anything, the shipper should be happy. He was getting ready to ship lumber out on a flat car (exposed to all sorts of sun and weather) and what he got (free of charge!) was a box car, covered and climate-controlled. If anything, that’s a customer for life. But Ken, being Ken and taking the super in superintendent a little too seriously, gigged me for that. So what if it wasn’t what the shipper wanted? Maybe what they got was better. So much for grab-iron initiative.
My first train into the yard, I rang up the yardmaster line as I passed her tower.
My wife paused. “Hello.”
My approach signal went red. “Woops, gotta go.”
So, of course…
Dispatcher on the overhead: “The radio is for official railroad business and not for kibitzing!” Grouch.
So, even through I’m a loving husband and think outside the box (or inside the boxcar, perhaps), Ken’s pissed because we are not doing things his way. Just because it’s his railroad, and that he bought everything and he built it and he set up the entire operations. Okay, Ken, we’ll do it your way next time.
But for this time, thanks for having us over. Great session!