Tuesday, May 8, 2012
After preciesely 9:07pm every night, every port around the world is supernaturaly morphed into a deadly jungle of prehistoric creatures lurking around every corner. The driving force behind the movement of containers in a port is primarily done by a gigantic horrifying creatures called a T-Rex. You may have mistakenly thought that the T-Rex was extinct, but I can assure you my friends, it most certainly is not! (many port-savy people may refer to these machines as a "Terex", but that is just a decieving disguise for what they truely are!)
They are quite silent for such large creatures. You can hear the sound of their rolling footsteps and eerie machine-like screams just seconds too late. Their claw marks (which very closely resemble oil-soaked tire tracks) are seen covering the grounds of their latest handy work- An area you must be sure to avoid, just in case the nasty creeper comes back for more containers.
It takes a highly skilled and trained person (much like myself) to stealthfully maneuver around the port after dark without being spotted by the beety, lazer, night vision eyes of the T-Rex. It's eyes sit way up on top of its arms so it can better spot it's pray as it lurks around the containers at night. If you walk carelessly through the port without first stopping, listening, and safely peering down your chosen route, you may just waltz around a corner and find one staring you down, charging straight for you as your body is frozen in terror with no place to hide except to jump down one of the open sewer holes scattered around the port.
And just to make it more terrifying, once you bravely pass through the main portion of the port and miraculously avoid any encounters with the T-Rex, you have one last obstacle, and that is to make a run for it through a large clearing where a T-Rex could pop out at any minute, his death-filled eyes staring straight at you, his weapon of mass destruction held high over his head, and your only hope is to out run him and reach the safety of the ship's security gate before he dominates you!
Every night I return back to the port, the moto taxi drops me at the front gate, and I stand outside for a brief moment to gather my courage, strap on my running shoes and stealth jacket before bravely entering Jurassic Park part 4. Some port gaurds may describe me as strange and delirious as I routinely tip toe into the port and assume my best spy-postion; with my back up against a row of containers, carefully side stepping my way to the corner and listening for signs of T-Rex's before Par-Core-ing my way to the next container row. But they are the delusional ones- living frighteningly close to the edge of disaster and carelessly underestimating the capabilities of the T-Rex's.