Doyle's Fish & Hicky Bar


Sunday, April 11, 2010

Adventures of Jay & Doyle #1

     Me and Jay go way back.   Back when he was skinny and I had long hair.   Oh wait, I still have long hair.  Sorry Jay.
     We've hunted and fished together and worked at all the chores that pertain to that type of diversion.   His favorite chore is camp cook.    He goes on and on about the eggs, the toast, the bacon, etc.   He always ends his diatribe with a stern remark that he doesn't clean up.    I've probably heard this 50 or 60 times and by now am an excellent pot washer.  I can opt out of washing if somebody complains about the food.   Complaining results in instant KP duty.
      His excellence at cooking is only overshadowed by his snoring.    The snoring is a cross between the sound of a cement mixer and an industrial food disposal.    No that's not quite right.   Throw a couple of spoons in the disposal to get the proper effect.   Yep, that's the sound I'm talking about. 
     We had buddies show up at the camp house one evening.    The old house had several rooms and we had claimed one wall of the rearmost and built a bunk bed.    Jay on bottom and me on top.   He was afraid that he might fall out of the top so he voted me up there.  I mean if anybody is going to suffer a broken leg I suppose I'm it.    One of the new guys asked if he could throw a sleeping bag on the floor.
"Sure, you can but you better wear some ear plugs."   I show him my plugs like they are made of gold.  I hover my other hand over my hunting knife so he get's the idea of how protective I am of them.
He says, "Don't need no ear plugs.   It's only proper for hunters to belch, spit,  fart, and snore around each other.    This is the only place we can really do that sort of thing.     Don't worry about it."
     With as serious a face as I could muster, "I'm not kidding.   Get plugs of some sort.  Use a piece of newspaper or tie your socks around your head.   Old cigarette butts work in a pinch.    Jay snores worse than boar after a slop feast.    It's the most horrible thing I've ever heard.    Most men don't live to report it.   Before I had ear plugs and didn't know better I think I about ruin't this left ear.   I guess I could give you that ear plug out of charity.   It's all waxed up and ready to go."
     With absolute disgust he reiterated, "I won't need no ear plugs.   I'm just naturally tough to that sort of thing."   He looked down his nose at me and Jay and began to make his bed.
     After cards, stories, beer and whiskey, and lots of genial cussing,  we finally decide to hit the sack.    Jay warned me to go outside and relieve myself now since he didn't want a shower during the middle of the night.
     Dang that guy holds a grudge.
     We bed down and I insert my ear plugs and listen to Jay warming up.    Even though my ears were muffled I could still hear Jay snoring away.    Our buddy on the floor set up and looked incredulously at Jay.   I gave him a thumbs up.   He gave me the finger and wrapped his coat around his head.
After a few more moments I while I was watching him he sat up and started talking.   I removed the earplug to hear him whining about Jay.   Course Jay couldnt hear a thing.    He asked,   "Is that for real?   Is he doing that on purpose?   Sounds like he's strangling a pig!"
I look at him coolly.   "Ah, he'll stop in a minute or two."
The guy laid back down.   He had wrapped himself up till you could only see his eyes.
Jays snoring continued.   I drifted off.
Sensing a commotion I looked to see our buddy standing up with his sleeping bag in a wad on his head.   He stumbled into the wall and slammed into the door trying to get out of the room.   I removed my earplug to listen to him talking in a high and strained voice.
"I gotta get some SLEEP!"   He finally got through the door and fell over a guy camped out on the floor in the next room.
"What the he...!."
In a kind of a terrible man shriek I will never forget , "I gotta get some SLEEP!."
He made it to the front door, got it opened and the house settled back down.    Jay never halted his throaty, choking, fart of a snore.
I drifted back off to sleep.
Morning comes early.    Somebody's alarm went off and Jay hopped up.   I suppose hop is an exageration but he slouched through the house and opened the front door.    It didn't open right so he leaned his not inconsiderable weight against it and it slowly moved open.     Our buddy was sleeping on the freezing porch with only his upper half wrapped in his sleeping bag. He laid there shivering in a heap.   He opened his eyes and sat up to show an absolutely miserable morning face.   Eyes as red as fishing bobbers and protruding just like that.   Under those bulge eyes he had  bags as big as garden slugs.
He had slobbered in his sleep so his sleeping bag was stuck oddly to his unshaven face.   In the most pitiful voice I ever heard come from a grown man,
"I had to get some SLEEP!"
Jay says, "You should of just slept in our room.    It's cold out here."
Only my intercession kept our buddy from attempting to throw Jay off the porch.
Not sure what happened to that guy.   After the morning hunt he was simply gone.   As I gathered the pots and started washing it occurred to me that we have a little trouble keeping hunters lately.