2024-12-16 - boating and boxing

[TXT to Ashley] Colt: I got boat parts. Where do you want 'em?

[TXT to Colt] Ashley: Why do I get the feeling these are stolen? Crescent harbor. Boat maintenance area. Know it?

[TXT to Ashley] Colt: ya of course 🤙

[TXT to Colt] Ashley: Then come on down. I'm in drydock one.

BEEP BEEP

The whirr of an electric golf cart buzzes near and then comes to a quick stop with a little skirr of golfy cart brakes.

BEEP BEEP

Colt hops off the driver's seat and tosses his shades on the dash cushion. He steps around to pick up a couple of boxes. "Hey! Ashley...." ...he looks at the box label... "...Weathers?"

Ashley is waiting patiently for the delivery, leaning on the doorfram of the open landward door into the building. Behind her is one of the water taxis, up out of the water on a ramp where she can work on it. She is dressed in grease stained overalls and a t-shirt that may have once been grey but is now closer to black. A wool knit cap on her head to keep the slight chill out. A bottle of beer in one hand.

A tilt of Ashley's head as she watches Cart Racer arrive before enjoying a mouthful of her beer. "That's me" she confirms before gesturing behind her. "Bring it in here, please." She heads indoors to show him the way. "You can call me Stormy."

"Oh yeah. Cool." Colt says as he hustles up toward the motioned workspace. "They let you drink out here? Bro. That's amazing." He sets the boxes down, probably not in the correct spot. "Stormy Weathers! Isn't that a song?

"Don't know why there's no sun up in the sky...Stormy Weatheerrrrssss..."

"The song is singular" Ashley replies, gesturing to a pile of boxes in one corner that seem to be unopened parts. Though when Colt just puts them down where he may, she shrugs and doesn't seem too concerned. "Non-alcoholic" she laments about the beer in her hand. "I'd offer you some, but that would be insulting."

Now it's time to lean against the boat that is being worked on so she can 'enjoy' the singing. "Not a performer? Ironically, the Weathers surname comes from Wether. Which is a male sheep. Nothing to do with storms. Though, obviously, that hasn't stopped me getting the nickname." A beat. "Did you want a beer?"

Colt appreciates not being insulted by being offered a beer... hey wait a second! He furrows his brow a he tries to piece together why these comments seem a bit 'off' (because he is not as smart as his player or the readers). He shakes his head and waves off the beer, "No thanks. I have some energy drinks in the cart."

Ashley puts down her beer to relocate the deposited boxes onto the others. She carefully considers if they are all aligned and straight, a slight movement to correct any 'error' before she is content. Back to that 'glorious' beer. "Then don't let me hold you up. I'm sure you have plenty of things to deliver. You're the Spellbound Amazon." A mouthful of the sour water. "Though I could do with a break. Your name is...?"

"Whoa I guess I am!" Colt laughs and wiggles a brief shaka 🤙

Then he waves. "I'm Colt! Been running supply chain for the warehouse since the park opened. Usually I'm all around the main island but make it out here on occasion- wherever deliveries are needed..." and the boss wants at least an hour of not having to look at Colt.

"Nice to meet you, Colt." Ashley will even offer a hand in greeting. "I guess I'm a newbie in comparison. I do the ferry piloting and repair." Just in case that wasn't obvious. "And if you ever need a quick trip to another one of the islands out of hours, I'm happy to oblige." Another mouthful of beer. "That is really horrible." Finally articulating what she has thought all along.

"Good to see someone so enthusiastic about their job" Ashley deadpans. "What did you do before you got here?" A beat. "Worked at Amazon, right."

"Cool gig!" Colt says with a bit of a gesture. He's sincere. "Would love to be driving boats all day and getting greasy! That's far out bro."

He laughs and shakes his head. "Nah. Before this I was training jiu jitsu." (That's not a job, Colt)

"Piloting. We're pilots, not drivers" Ashley smiles. "Not our fault the flyers stole our word. And you can probably get as greasy as you like whenever you like. Maybe not in public though. Could get arrested."

"Oh, you were a sensei? Is that the right word?" It certainly is a job if Colt was the one doing the training. In a formal way. In a building. Perhaps those parameters were not met. "Do you teach martial arts here? I'm more of a brawler. Maybe you can teach me some moves?"

"Nah. Professor was this old Brazilian dude. I went and did two or three training sessions a day." Colt scratches the back of his head. "I never taught professionally or anything but you know, we all help each other out at the gym."

"Oh...so your job was student." Ashley stares at the man for a moment before shrugging. Nope, not a job...but he seems happy. "Maybe it's time you became the teacher? Isn't that the journey? The student becomes the teacher. At least in the movies I've seen. That many sessions a day, you must be pretty good. How did you pay for them?" Maybe that will get actual employment out of him?

"It was just like a monthly due. But mine was waived because I like helped with the kids classes and did a workout class and stuff. Helped clean and stuff." Colt replies. "Oh I enjoy this job at the warehouse. Checks all the boxes!"

"Where did you use to brawl? I studied boxing a bit too." Explains the nose.

"There you go, you're already a teacher. Another string to your bow when you want to do more than move boxes...which is a different kind of boxing" Ashley smirks. "Never really understood that saying. Putting two strings on a bow wouldn't make things better. Your arrow would get all tangled up."

Did Colt just say his job 'checks all the boxes'? Ashley just stares at him and his punning. Move on. Move on. "I brawled wherever was necessary. Bars. Docks. Children's parties. That last one was a joke. It's definitely not boxing. Pretty sure boxing doesn't let you punch people in the balls."

Colt shakes his head. "Nah. Can't hit people in the nuts." He almost tsks. "Ok so you like got into fights. You didn't actually train boxing?"

He looks Ashley up and down and hmms. "I guess I could show you a thing or two some time. Can never be too safe out there after all."

"Every fight I was involved with was self-defence" Ashley assures Colt. "If I had to look at them any longer, I would hurt my eyes. Ergo, I had to beat them up." A shrug. "Simple." Ashley shakes her head. "Nope, no actual training. Nothing like experience though, right? Unless you're a brain surgeon. Maybe should get some training before you tried the first one."

"Sure, we'll do some sparring. With proper alcohol. I'm game. And if you need a boat trip somewhere, let me know."

"Sweet! Thanks bro." 🤙

Colt grins and hops back toward his golf cart. "Sure, we can set something up. Don't drink before it though. That's a recipe for a lotta hurling. Training ain't no joke!"