Creative Excusing

Creative jobs require creative excuses

Everyone, at some point, calls in sick to work.

Well . . . most everyone.

Even those toughest of the tough. The weather-hardened cowboys. Their excuses are just a bit more . . . creative.

In my grandfather's day, his hired men were all experienced, life-hardened individuals.

And I do mean individual.

One morning, one of his cowboys failed to report with the others.

Grampa handed out the day's assignments, then went in search.

He found the man seated snugly in the bunkhouse, both feet comfortably propped up on a chair.

Grampa stopped in the doorway.

“Are you coming out to work?” he asked.

“Can't,” the man said.

"Why not?"

"Toik."

Grampa stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Toik,” the man repeated.

“Oh.” Grampa thought about that for a moment. Then, “What?” he asked again.

The hired man looked at him. “Toik,” he said carefully.

Grampa nodded. “That's what I thought you said.”

He turned and headed back to the barnyard.

For some time, he puzzled over the man's answer.

What on earth was a toik?

Finally, he found himself working alongside one of the other men.

“Smith not coming?” the man asked.

Grampa shook his head. “No. He said something about a toik.”

The hired man grinned. “And you had no idea what he was talking about?”

Again, Grampa shook his head. “None whatsoever,” he said.

The man laughed. “You can't guess what a toik is?”

“Nope.”

“Maybe I should translate.”

Grampa looked at him. “Please,” he said.

“Toe ache,” the man said.

“Ahhh!” Grampa said.

Things suddenly made . . . sense. Sort of. “Toe ache.”

“Yep.”

“Ah.”

Now I'm sure you've heard the excuse of 'a cold coming on'.

The flu.

Sore throat.

Sinus infection.

Broken bones.

Even the occasional bout of 'explosive diarrhoea'.

But I'd venture to guess that you've never before heard of a toik.

Well, now you have.

Feel free to use it . . .