I work in the area of the far north in a well-known oil company, the people there are mostly creative, here is the first story about observation.
At one oil industry in the service of the CIP worked three people. Two old zombies for fifty years worked at night, and a young man who worked by day for twenty-four years, let us call him Tychon, with a gentle appearance and a good-hearted character, quick and cheerful. In the summer, the dirt in our fisheries is not light, because everyone walks in rubber boots. Therefore, a two-hundred-liter barrel is taken, no matter whether it is plastic or steamed.It (the barrel) is cut from the bottom of 30-40 centimeters and turns out as if it were a barrel, we call them half-barrels, (although this is probably a square), then this pelvis is installed near the entrance to all rooms and bars, water is poured into it and everyone who wants to enter the room pre-places one leg in this improvised washer, rinks the boots, sweat the second leg similarly, and goes in so that dirt does not carry. Thus, Tychon always flew to this corner from the run, then jumped and two of his legs with splashes got into the center then with ritual outcry jumped several times in the water, and then with one jump left this vessel.
At night, during their shift, they removed the half, took the whole barrel, cut off only the top of it and buried it in the ground, so that it would look like a half. Shed water...
The morning. Tikhon cleaned his clutches, went out on the street, looked at the harsh northern sky, funly ran away and jumped into this barrel... falling on the buttocks into the water and drowning the cellphone.
At this time, two of his colleagues with lead brains stood by the window with cigarettes in their teeth and watched this wonderful picture.
In general, for the sake of two seconds of pleasure, the guys dug the frozen soil all night.
PS: It’s been crazy for a week until a new story happened.