Ax to grind

We came back to Airlie Beach yesterday because the place where we volunteered was insufferable. The rumor has it that the world is full of assholes so it's no wonder if you meet one. The dude seemed nice and friendly but in a couple of days we noticed that he's full of shit. He kept complaining about everything we did (well, I'm used to it) and shouted at us, his face red as a beetroot. Seriously, how is it possible to shovel gravel in a wrong way?

There are people out there who thing that nothing's good enough for them, they can't delegate and they het stressed, grumpy and irritable and take it out on everyone around them. I suppose it's tough getting old and weak especially for men. He probably hated seeing young girls being stronger and faster than he is. Makes men feel less manly, eh?  For the entire unlucky week we spent there, he kept repeating how no one can do things better than he can, not the lawyers, not the gardeners, not the doctors, absolutely no one is as bright as he is. Most likely he did his own heart bypass surgery because he is best man for every job.

At some point the dick told us that once he almost died after eating something slightly poisonous, and his girlfriend of that time sat next to him and laughed. I was horrified to think someone would be so callous but as time passed I started to sympathize the girl and totally understood her sentiment. We started to suspect that the various accident that had happened to him in the past we no accidents at all but well staged attempts on his life arranged by the unfortunate people around him. Actually, it would make a great Agatha Christie style novel. Who murdered the man everyone hated?

We tolerated the dickhead, his insults, mean snubs and abusive language for a week, had enough and decided to hit the road again. During our time at the hellhole we heard several times an hour how stupid and useless scum we are. (And still I'm quite sure weeding is not a highly specialized job. By any standard we did it just fine).

The last morning on the farm I said to Anna that someone should hit the asshole with an ax. Anna thought it a crappy idea as our perfect hos would probably return from the death to tell me I was holding the ax wrong. Later that morning I saw a study looking lovely ax lying in the garden and thought that it might be a sign from above. However, I decided to pass the tempting opportunity, you never know, a stupid little girl like myself might have hit him with the poll and he could have survived with a concussion only.

Feeling pissed? Ice cream and banana will help

The experience was educating. We now know what happens to people when they shut themselves outside of the society and work alone too much. It's easy to start thinking they are better than anyone else, the kings in their private kingdoms where they can do and say anything they feel like doing and saying. We decided we are so not going again to work on a farm. It could be that all the farmers here are more or less wacky and they can't even blame it on centuries of inbreeding!

The prick seemed a bit surprised when we told him we are going. You see, he thinks his place is a paradise and we should have been thankful to be staying there.