When I arrived out here earlier this morning the ISO container was already in place. What was odd was where it was positioned. I parked my truck and grabbed my hardhat as I swung my legs out and before I had even hit the ground, TJ came storming across the compound like a man possessed with his cell glued to his ear as he shouted obscenities at some poor unsuspecting moron on the other end. I figured I knew what was wrong from the way the crew was standing around looking at the container. Who the fuck would park the damn thing so close to house?
“TJ?” I call out to him as he crosses in front of me without so much as a fuck-of-the-morning to ya. He gives me the talk-to-the-hand signal as he stops in front of me.
“Not now, Ells. I’m on it.” Well, at least I’m Ells and not shithead. Of course, that would necessitate a new project manager which would be damned inconvenient for both of us. He turns around and heads back to the site office working himself up to a healthy roar on the way. I wander over to Will.