cellini's Diaryland Diary

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I Got 99 Problems...

Some wonderful saint has upgraded me back to Gold status on DL for the next 3 months. Whomever it is, thank you. Hopefully comments will automatically be re-enabled. I suppose that I will find out soon enough.

Since I am desperate need of the money, I finally put the word out about the list of dates that I have available as a hunting guide for the rest of the season.

I have mixed feelings about this type of work. The problem is that there are so many things that I am supposed to be to these people and it is very hard to live up to what they need me to be. Especially when they show up and make a lot of noise or shoot badly or miss their quarry for whatever reason.

They expect me to be: hunter, skinner, EMT, gunsmith, chef, butcher, lawyer, shooting instructor, psychologist, zoologist, storyteller, marriage counselor, driver, comedian, tracker and life coach.

All at once. If the weather is good and nature cooperates and they shoot well then I am brilliant. I am their hero. They will send me an email every 2 weeks for the rest of their lives thanking me. If they don't shoot well, or if it rains...

This is a very intense profession. And in the midst of all of that, it really is life or death. I have someone stalking a few steps behind me who has no idea what the fuck they are doing and at any moment they might literally shoot me in the back. They are all beginners, by definition. That is my clientele.

And when we get on to bears, Jesus fuck. Usually they are too loud and awkward to have any hope of closing the deal, thank God. But if they do get a shot off, odds are pretty good that it won't do the job.

Like the guy I was guiding the other day. 15 years of military service meant that he was used to semi-automatics and full autos. I couldn't coax this guy for anything to remember to work the bolt of the rifle after firing a shot -- he was way too accustomed to having the gun do that for him. Then we got onto really fresh bear tracks and I was dreading the possibility of him shooting at a bear. There is no way in hell that he would remember to work the bolt and have a round ready for a follow-up shot.

This shit means that I have to be ready to clean up these peoples' messes. Either in the face of a full charge with a handgun on one hip and a knife on the other, or by following up a blood trail into the thick brush. Either way, its going to be a fucking coin toss for my life every time.

That is the shit that I don't care for. I just don't get paid enough to deal with it. Some of these people actually have the nerve to try negotiating with me over the price. They don't get far...

Even when they only go after deer, I'm not charging nearly enough. Oh, when they shoot well and the deer goes right down it isn't bad. I teach them how to quarter and butcher it and we all have a fine time. But sometimes they don't shoot well and the shot hits in the wrong spot and I spend the next 6 hours tracking a wounded deer through thorns and briars in the dark and the cold in the middle of nowhere.

Oh sure, its not bad money when we meet at 10 am and go until 5 pm and I pocket my $200 or so and that is that. But if I have to actually risk being ripped to shreds by a huge, angry black bear -- and bear in mind that I have no health insurance or savings to pay for health care and any stitches will have to be implemented by yours truly with a sewing needle -- or when I have to wander around in the cold dark thorns until 4 am to find a deer that some dipshit wounded and let it run 300 yards before it died -- then $200 a day ain't shit.

Supposedly my publisher should have the seven grand or so that they own me in my hands some time around the beginning of February. That would be nice. But I can't count on it. So I need to rack up extra money however I can between now and then. And while I'm at it I've got 2 other books that I'm supposed to be working on.

Oy.

11:09 p.m. - 2011-12-23

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