Back to normal

This morning, as my coworker and I headed into the Seamen's Center, we were greeted by a gruff, rather vexed, Eastern European seafarer. We had barely walked in the door, when he demanded: 

"Where can I find a crossbow?"

"A...what!?" Surely, we thought, we had misheard, but no. This man was hell-bent on finding a crossbow in the most expeditious manner possible. 5 minutes later, our trusty receptionist was busily phoning every sporting goods store within a half hour's driving distance, starting every conversation (as one does...) with a jaunty: "Good morning! Do you carry crossbows?" While she inquired away, the rest of us huddled together in the chaplains' office, trying not to laugh too audibly and racking our brains for what on earth  he could want it for. We had finally come to the conclusion that his ship must sail through pirate-ridden waters, and that conventional anti-piracy measures weren't enough for this dude, when Janet (on the fourth try) finally located a crossbow-carrying store. 

As we walked him outside to the cab that would take him to his much-desired weapon, my coworker finally had the nerve to ask him what he wanted it for. He shot us a contemptuous scowl, replied: "Hunting," slammed the cab door, and drove away. 

And that is how one starts the day with a bang.