' I had just fallen off a rock early in my climbing/college career, I was 20 years old, the 12 foot fall terminated on a smaller rock pitched with sharp edge to inflict the maximum amount of damage possible and I compounded my two lower leg bones, tib/fib break in my right leg. BITD, Back in the day, Docs often just shot you up with morphine and set it on the spot with no surgery. This was the case here. Two months of full leg casts and I was into the 1/2 leg cast and I needed a job and got one as the sole Bronzer at a small statue factory in town. I worked in the big,dusty gymnasium sized room with all the statue casters. There were like 15 of them and most smoked reefer. I did back then too.

Then there were other sections of the small factory that looked very clean and the statue painters worked in these dustless environments in clean clothes and looking the part. The artist himself was around a lot, he was French and over the top in every way. Not sure why he was treated like the artist because we just did Remington knock offs, cranking out hundreds of American West icons every week.
[img]https://i.imgur.com/1lK7kry.jpg[/img]
I had no touch for the work at all, they thought I could do it, no pull towards artistry other than ski calligraphy in deep snow. Maybe I got some mercy because I was hired with the full leg cast still on and then after the first week I got into the half cast and I would hop around crutch free awkwardly. When we'd get stoned out back and one of the three brothers who were all managers would lay into me about the quality of my "Mountain Man" or "End of the Trail" bronzes, I could not even see the difference in their work and mine. I did create a new bronzing method for the very high which just involved good dark gray base coat and then brushing the "bronze", the bronze colored paint, almost everywhere but especially the high points of the statue like the horses mane, the gun barrel, cheekbones etc. I liked that job.

I also liked working at this little gourmet restaurant 45 minutes from my house in the same period of time. It was up a quiet 20 mile long canyon, and we often carpooled, we'd climb a few pitches or train in the day and head out to work with a 12 pack and head down the river and up the canyon ending up at the little mountain hamlet a few miles from the highest national park in North America. We'd walk thru the small trout ponds and the herb garden and the flowers and finally thru a tune of hummingbirds by their drip feeders at the back door. Once inside we'd sneak by the cranky Austrian chef, Hermann and he d justifiably scoff at us as we looked like hell even in our black and whites, no ties until we had to put them on, shirts untucked and always goofy from the beer on the way up. We'd set up the 15 tables for the first turn, meet in the bar and do a shot and then Hermann would dish out food for us and the family and we'd all eat in the bar and then put on the black bow ties and receive our first tables. I was a bus boy waiter in training for like 2 years and 3 different restaurants underneath an older friend of mine so I was already a restaurant baby. This place was a labor intensive gig compared to all others I d ever had. Soup served tableside, salad served tableside, caesar salad made tableside, quite a few meals had 2 or 3 courses prepared and served tableside before entrees. If they ordered trout I'd usually be the one to fish it out of the ponds with a net and this huge 150 lb Saint Bernard would follow me and if the trout wriggled out of the net and flopped onto the stone pathways around the ponds, that dog would chomp and swallow in one motion, taking the whole trout into its throat immediately so I could not pry it out.

Anyway, years later I came back and worked for Hermann for two more years as a waiter. He was winding down a lot then and we did less overall business but we also did it on a skeleton crew. Often, he d be alone on the line and many nights it was just the wife and I on the floor, especially in the winter months. She was nearly 60 then and had gout but she was brilliant at marking tables and putting on a warm red wine smile for her guests. Those nights I worked alone I would just get so deep in the weeds of it, I'd do shots of whatever I wanted because I felt I deserved it then I'd go at it, flaming pepper steaks to the cabin's pine ceilings 12 feet above trying to leave a fresh mark up there every time. That's how I was trained.
[img]https://i.imgur.com/Zq3SiiS.jpg[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/ClPTlaU.jpg[/img]

SternAAlbifrons wrote: ↑Fri Jun 04, 2021 7:23 am Looking for shit. That's what i love.

Highlights.
.Diamond exploration in a very remote part the Northern Territory.
.Hunting out, on foot at night, the most isolated and hardcore junkies
. Two particular bird hunts in Cambodia.

The first job i wanted to do as a kid was golddigger (chercheur d'or), later on in my teens i was a bit of a thief, until i grew up. I think it had common grounds, such as eastern eggs hunts and too much treasure searching stories from my childhood books. I was fascinated by the simplicity of the concept, dig, find the treasure, done. I wasn't even thinking yet of what i would do with the gold....But France isn't much of a gold state, more luck maybe with buried treasures from the rich local history i guess....

Bird hunts ? i thought you were an advocate for birds ? When you mean hunting, was it for photos or hunting them for good ?

Looking for shit is great. I had to, a lot, in Indonesia and Cambodia for work purpose, it was always exciting, as the hunter is the discoverer too. Don't we all look for stuff since we're kids ? Sounds like a life plan.

No bounty hunting in Australia ? I mean, if you dislike (especially the bad) people, and love hunting, would it be a suitable job ? I'm thinking about Papillon now, one of my many favorite books of adventures. Gold, pearls, convicts, jungle, sea...

I had a great job, big bucks, as GM with a 50 outlet restaurant chain in Vietnam, Hanoi / Danang / HCMC. Left it to return to NZ to be with daughter with mental health problems [her not me]. Couldnt get a job in Napier, finally ended up as store manager at local Starbucks. Best job I ever had. Loved working with the young staff, so far from Auckland H/O I ran it like my own business, put 25% year on year average for three years, always nominated as manager of the year. 6am to 2pm, hated the customers, man we were so sarcastic I am sure thats why people loved the place, like a Fawlty Towers experience. Gave it up to retire here in Siem Reap, but I still miss it.