Who doesn’t enjoy some good-natured banter when worrying that you might die in misery on the muddy roadside in the middle of a dark forest?
Might be the folks in that shuttle van, but I guess we’ll see.
No bars. It’s like a nightmare!
Bob keeps a broader view than a lot of folks.
Bob likes the kind of view you get from the bottom step of Infinity… you know the spot, right next to Destiny and Fate, just a few dimensions higher and with a clearer vantage point than Chance, Luck, and Probability.
It will keep you from worrying so much.
Of course, so will a head injury with short term memory loss.
Let’s see, so far, Lowell got in trouble at Sportsmart for trying to design and lead a corporate weekend. And Hubris took a family rafting down a river which led to a corporate weekend. Paintball was involved in there somewhere. Now, suddenly, Outdoor Galore Store itself is having a corporate weekend outing. This is grand, isn’t it? If the corporate world can just monetize and monopolize the natural world, then everything will be under the sway of profit.
“Profit” is the name of a demon from the eighth circle of hell, isn’t it? Maybe it’s more of a nickname. Lots of stuff is done in that name, though, so it’s okay.
Bob’s alway willing to help.
He’ll probably wind up helping folks into learning things they didn’t expect or think they needed to learn, but that’s still HELP.
Everybody seems to be on the same wavelength.
That’s so sweet.
Bob. Good ol’ Bob.
People that in touch with the Universe should be respected and appreciated for the simple, connected souls they are.
Instead of being resented for being right and lucky all the time, the darn ol’ bunch of poops.
Hubris wasn’t much of a corporate style boss.
David, on the other hand, probably doesn’t know what other kind of boss to be. So forgive him if he just wants what he wants and expects that his employees know how to get things done.
Nikki, on the other hand, knows when someone’s asking for something they don’t really want.
She probably knows that Bob ISN’T asking to be tossed under the bus, but Bob pretty laid back. If a bus can pass over without doing damage, Bob might just be the passee.
How do YOU suppose this will shake out?
It’s never wise to pick apart language too carefully, unless you’re writing humor. Mark Twain, P.G. Wodehouse, Douglas Adams… brilliant at examining what we say and why we say it, and then pulling it out for us to see for ourselves.
And then there’s Bob, who’s just curious about it.
I’ve never been one for Feng Shui myownself.
I live happiest in my studio and it looks like a landfill, so…
I’m not sure there are many retail places that fall into Bob’s aesthetic. And the ones that do are mostly in areas where there’s an astronomical range of disposable incomes. Rodeo drive retail. Fifth Avenue. Union Square. Anyplace in Dubai, I guess. Very few places that sell tent pegs and life jackets for dogs.
Poor Bob.
He probably doesn’t mind at all, but he’s gone from a surfer dude, to being a competition ringer at the first Fest and thereby a momentary Sportsmart employee, thence to a OGS employee, to a house-sitter, to a flunky for an egomaniac with a budget… while being a house-sitter again. It can’t be a calming turn of fortune. Fortunately, Bob supplies his own calm. ‘Til he’s crushed under a kid flyin’ around on a skateboard.
Bob’s my hero.
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