Baewatch - Xavier Neal Page 0,23
now this?
Why do I get the feeling I’m having one of those unfortunate days where when it rains…it fucking hurricanes?
I flex and curl my toes in a calming fashion at the same time I lean forward, left ear presented for better hearing. “Please, explain to me again how we are suddenly low on funding for next year’s junior lifeguard programs?”
“Not…low,” Fatima, my best friend and colleague, sassily states in return only to receive a deepened scowl. “Just…low-er. Big difference.”
“Fatima, I have manuals to review, protocols to rewrite, a lengthy phone call with my boss this afternoon followed by even lengthier meetings with each of the other section chiefs as well as the Rescue Boat Captains and Head of On-Site Paramedics. To say I am not in the mood to deal with an abrupt change in the budget for the upcoming year, something that shouldn’t even be in review until the end of next quarter regardless of what the committee is commanding, would be putting a diet label on a pure sugar cane situation.”
Her golden-skinned face instantly scrunches in worry.
“You are brilliant when it comes to finding funds for this department, especially when you know something matters.” My eyes bore forcefully into hers. “Many will argue that the programs are pointless. Outdated. That, despite all we do to keep them interesting and exciting, enrollment numbers will go down next year. The truth is, it’s the same speech they give every year when they want to cut the funding to place it elsewhere, somewhere that doesn’t typically need it – like for softer toilet paper in the bathrooms or lavender oil scents. The summer youth programs are actually quite vital to what it is we do here. They are quite a significant steppingstone that many of our best guards and leads took. Those programs are what led them to caring about the water, the beach, and the people that come here. Studies and figures both reflect this information. It’s all there on paper to be seen and read and regurgitated. Those who went through the program during their adolescence last longer and are more dedicated. Those facts and figures are there, too. You, Fatima, are also a testament to that. You’re absolutely brilliant, especially in regards to finances, yet instead of working for a huge firm that could benefit from your skill set, you stayed here so that we could. So that the beach could. You patiently waited in a lower ranking position for this promotion because you knew you could make a difference for something you gave a shit about.”
Her plump lips move to one side of her face in an attempt to stop a smile.
“I’ve seen you take down a drunken Alaskan crab fisherman for putting his hand on your ass unwelcomed.”
Her smirk can no longer resist showcasing itself.
“I have no doubts that you can handle this fight,” I warmly insist, grateful the noise is starting to subside. “Don’t lose a single penny you don’t have to.”
She pulls her long black hair to one side of her face and enthusiastically shakes her head. “I won’t.”
“Worst case scenario-”
“Which I will do everything in my power to not need.”
“-take it from the overtime bank. We can overlap the extra hours needed with volunteers if absolutely necessary. Given that chiefs are salary, we’re already on standing orders to be around to keep an eye on them so that there are no gaps in the safety protocols. We can exploit this to our benefit.”
“That’s our bottom of the bucket back up plan, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Got it.” Fatima stands, zips her windbreaker jacket to cover up her white polo underneath, and exits my office.
After an ass early morning of what has felt like nonstop emotional hurricane winds, I’m finally presented with an opportunity to tackle the agenda I should already be at least a third of the way through.
Major drawback of being the boss.
The business you work for expects you to get your job done, make sure other people get their jobs done, and do their jobs when they, for some reason, can’t seem to. Today’s nightmares that occurred prior to these past forty-five minutes consisted of talking to the security about a potential kidnapping victim, rearranging the schedule to cover territory due to three call outs, and finding someone’s stash of sticky icky shoved underneath one of the couch cushions in the staff room. All of those things, combined with the new stress ships that have arrived at my shores, have me debating on rewriting our