Kevin the Pirate – Terror of the Seas!
Kevin, The Terror of the Sea, screamed, “What do you mean the invoice was not paid, the permits were not sent in, and the ship delivery is behind?”
Sam, the administrative assistant, cringed. He knew this was coming. Yet, the volume and fury were impressive. “Well, Sir, it goes like this: Jim in accounting had not yet sent….” That was as far as he got.
Storming about the rental office, “You are going to sit there and tell me the paperwork is keeping me from my destiny, ‘Terror of the Sea,’ slashing, looting, and all manner of horrible things? We have computers, smartphones, messaging, and 12 million apps, and you can’t get this done?” Finally, Kevin shouts, “Walk the plank, keel haul, and multiple papercuts! What do I have to do to motivate you, people?”
The overall clacking of keyboards increased, yet no word was said by anyone.
“Now I am going to have to kidnap a new office crew and a ship full of pirates,” went through his head.
He would have to listen to the complaining and whining, “I am only a temp, been here only a week, the flu was…”
Storming about some more as a headache began because someone forgot to bring in ale this morning. He sucked at taking pills, but no one knew that.
In his mind, he could hear his great-grandfather’s voice, “Arggg!” The stories were legendary: the sails, ransacking, fame, and his fantastic parrot.
I am such an embarrassment to my family. Even my brother, the corporate attorney, is doing better.
He grabbed Tim, the resident IT networking specialist. “I want the name of the dark web staffing firm right now.”
I’ll show these scallywags how it’s done. Hmmm. Scallywags. I love that word.
Pink emails (slips) were going to fly.
“We have a rental rowboat available now, sir….” Tim began timidly, but the thunderous scowl he received in response had him hunching over his keyboard, head down to avoid any further wrath from raining down on him.
“A ROWBOAT?” Kevin was skeptical! “What the bloody hell am I going to do with a rowboat?” He’d be a laughingstock. The ‘Terror of the Seas’ in a rowboat. Oh, the humiliation!
I should have listened to my mother: “Go into pet grooming, be a tax collector, accountant, or a lumberjack,” she’d said, “the hours are regular, you get holidays off, and you don’t have to worry about scurvy.”
“I could have been a lumberjack,” thought Kevin with a snort.
Who knew piracy involved so much paperwork? It wasn’t like this in my great-grandfather’s time. Nowadays, there’s a triplicate form for everything: bribes, ransacking, parrot requisitions, replacement wooden legs. The list was endless! My accountants are making more money than I am!
Well, I’m not going to take it anymore, dammit!
“I’ll take the rowboat,” he growled. “I’ll take every rowboat you have. And you best give me the insurance. Don’t be expecting these back in the same condition,” he scowled, channeling his great-grandfather.
“Sam! Get me the engineering team. You tell them to maximize the bananas out of the efficiency of the rowboats and build me a proper ship. NOW!”
“Maximize the bananas . . .?” is all he said. Kevin cut him off.
“Tell engineering I need a ship now!”
“Yes, sir. You need a ship now.” Sam’s voice trailed off as he crossed the room. “Maximize efficiency . . ., build a ship out of rowboats. . ., bananas.”
Sam stopped and turned toward Kevin. With a calm, curious voice, he asked, “Terror-of-the-Seas, Sir?”
“What is it?” Kevin barked.
“Engineering will need your functional requirements, scope statement, test plans, quality assurance control measures, goals, customer-experience journey, risk assessment, risk mitigation plan, and definition of done,” Sam suggested.
The slap was the only sound heard. “I am going to the water!”
With a slam of the cheap, flimsy door, Kevin blazed a trail down the sidewalk toward the small pond in the middle of the cheap industrial park.
As he stood there gazing across the 50 feet of the pond, he imagined the thousands of miles of open ocean.
“I had expected a hat, a parrot, and the sound of swashbuckling,” he thought. “Not the rustling of a friggin major pile of project planning and paperwork. What in the world is a customer-experience journey?” he wondered.
“I barely sail. I get starboard and port mixed up, but at least I’m learning. Granted, it was all online and virtual. But my crew doesn’t need to know that. I wonder how big a rowboat is anyway? Do I also have to row since I don’t have the hat? Dang, I’m not even sure cannons can be put on a rowboat ship travesty. And the price of bronze is through the roof these days! Do parrots bite? Do pet stores even sell parrot food in bulk?” so many thoughts racing around his head as he continued his walk of terror around the pond.
“Bing”. He looked frowned at his smartwatch. “At least I got my steps in.”