Thursday, July 24, 2008
Brent Wilson - Yadkinville, N.C.
Years ago, I was a young engineer at a T.V. station, and there was a young lady that began working there 9 months after I did. She wasn’t technically a supermodel, but she did slightly resemble Cindy Crawford. She was also the singer-dancer-ballerina-actress type, and she had, to put this nicely, she had really, really good, eh, “tires.”
Speaking of tires, I then had a two-door 1975 Oldsmobile Cutlass. It wasn’t technically a muscle car, but you sure had to have a lot of muscle to open and close those five-foot doors!
It took about six months, but I sort of “fell in love” with “Cindy.” Actually, it was more like walking down the road with her and accidentally falling into a ravine by myself. She would have been saying, “Brent! Are you okay? Do you want me to call a rescue squad?” But when I asked her out on a date, she probably thought, “Have you completely lost your mind?” (Hey, who turned these goats loose?)
I had some really bad hours. I worked five days, but on two of those days, I had to work from 4 a.m. to noon. I’d go to bed about 9 p.m. and get up at about 2:45 a.m. When I came home, I’d go back to bed for about 2 hours. Having to live like this can affect your sanity. Perhaps it did!
After a while, she agreed on a Dutch-treat lunch date, which was in March of that year. I very stupidly told a few people about this, and I guess word got around to my boss, the chief engineer. I was working the 4 a.m. to noon shift that day, so it would have been just right, even though I was a little tired (the goats are now stampeding).
Well, about 10:30 that morning, my boss came into the control room where I was working and told me that he needed me to go to the transmitter for awhile that afternoon. When I asked why, he said that the engineer at the transmitter had to go to the dentist or something, and there were some guys doing work on the building, and that all I really had to do was just be there and lockup when they were finished (somebody stop those goats!).
I guess those evil-minded crudmucks thought “Cindy” and I were going to do something besides eat, if you know what I mean (What are those two goats doing? Well I never!)
After 12, I went on up there, getting a burger on the way. The transmitter is up on the mountain in a northern county. The engineer there, “Dewey,” acted like he knew what was really going on, but wasn’t supposed to tell me. He’s a really nice old guy, and didn’t want to hurt my feelings. (We’ll now get to the goats and the “Flintstones.”)
After I got up there and saw what was going on, I sat down in the office, which was also the kitchen. I turned on the T.V. on the desk and tuned into another station whose transmitter is on the same mountain, and watched “The Flintstones.” It was the episode about Boulder Dan’s pool room. After that, I was sort of sleepy, so I rested for a short time. When I woke up, I saw three wild goats lining up on a nearby rock wall, and taking turns jumping off. They just kept doing this for about 10 or 15 minutes. The guys got done working about 3 p.m., so I left.
Two shorten a long story, the opportunity to take her to lunch never presented itself again, and the next year, she left the station and married a doctor the following year.
I wonder what might have eventually happened if I had taken her to lunch that day. Could I have traded a lifetime of being married to a beautiful woman for an afternoon at the transmitter, watching wild goats jump off some rocks?
My main point is, avoid office romances no matter what! You’d be better off climbing a radio tower during a thunderstorm. It’s much safer and a lot less emotionally traumatic, with or without goats. Just be sure you don’t miss “The Flintstones.”
