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The Yes Men (Part One)

I am on this ship full of truck drivers who seem to be only from Russia and Latvia. I base this on their looks, their language and their tattoos. We are a men only ship for this voyage, with the exception of the woman who serves the food & also runs the bar. As she has a dual role, it makes it impossible to have a drink with one's meal, as clearly the lady with the big metal spoon can not be in two places at once.

So being the only Englishman aboard, I figure the best approach is the direct one. "Do any of you fellas speak English?" I address the long table and its gruff looking benched occupants in one go, figuring it's best to see if there is any conversation to be had on this leg of my journey. Better that than the shrinking violet who never speaks. Which would make me feel even smaller amongst these men mountains.

To my eternal surprise and great relief a voice say "Yes!" I quickly scan both sides of the long table trying to figure out who spoke. One particularly rough Baltic looking fellow has the beginnings of an "I'm smarter than the average Bear" smile starting, but ending just as fast flash across his lips. I look directly at him and say "You?", "Yes" he says again. Ok, now we are off to the races...

Turns out however that all he knows is the word Yes. Much laughter erupts around the table, which because of the looks i am getting, i realise is at my expense. But as if a gift from the gods, Miss Surly Metal Spoon chooses that moment to roll up the only iron shutter...

Story by:

Eugene

submitted at 3:54pm

16 October 2009