Parrothead Ramblings

And if doesn't work out, there'll never be any doubt that the pleasure was worth all the pain."

Well, Crime Dog's Margaritaville West's construction is well under way. After Thor and his boys dug the hole, it sat untouched for about 1 1/2 weeks, till I called the builder and raised hell. Next thing I knew, guys who spoke no English were showing up daily at my door to do various things. I still just have this ugly hole in the yard, but at least it's plumbed and lined with rebar.

So this morning, yet another knock on the door. It's a guy with a load of big fucking rocks (BFRs). some really big bastards. I think a couple might even qualify for "HFR" status. Some are destined to be turned into a waterfall on the far end of the pool, while some of the more picturesque BFRs shall become "accent boulders." This is the first I heard that my pool is going to have an accent. Hope it's something sexy, like French or Italian. With my luck it'll be North Carolina twang, either singing bluegrass or offering me moonshine. Sheesh.

But I digress. Rock guy bangs on my door and says "I need you to sign this waiver."

"A waiver? What for?"

"Well, see, I gotta drive this big load of boulders over your driveway, and then off the other side. The waiver protects my company if the truck breaks your driveway."

"Why would I do that? You break my driveway, I want you to fix it."

"Sorry, sir. The BFR Corporation can't accept that risk."

"And I can? I'm guessing the BFR Corporation has more disposable cash than me."

"Probably true sir, but either you sign the waiver, or I can't deliver the BFRs."

"Ok, Ok, but what would you do if no one was home?"

"We'd just drop them out on the street by the curb. Then the landscapers would have a helluva time hauling them all into your yard."

"All right. Let's see if I have this straight: You want me to pay for any damage to my driveway caused by the BFR Corporation, from a BFR truck, being driven by a BFR employee, delivering a big-ass load of BFRs. And this is so you can get the BFRs 35' closer to my yard, thus saving any extra work by a couple of guys who probably just walked all the way here from Hermosillo, and can do this shit in their sleep, right?"

"Hmmm. I never heard it put quite that way. I'll just drop 'em on the street."

"Nah, what the hell. I'll sign it. What's the name on the delivery order? Mine, or Paddock Pools?."

"Lessee.....actually, there's no name. Just a delivery address."

"Perfect. Give me that fucking waiver."

So I take the waiver, sign it with "Marvin Gardens," back date it to 2002, and hand it over. Dude doesn't even look at it, just shoves it in his shirt pocket and hops into the truck. The delivery went off without a hitch. Damn! I was looking forward to watching these guys try to prove that Marvin Gardens, and not them, owes for the damage. Now, I have a lovely pile of BFRs beside my driveway. Looks like a Leavenworth labor yard out there. Juan and Jose better show up soon.

Any suggestions for who signs the waiver for the shotcrete delivery?
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