UPDATE: Nevermind. Why? Here's your hint: I have refrained from discussing my employment on this blog. It's requiring more and more self-discipline to continue to do so...
Those who know... know.
[They are] pains in the neck at times...forever stumbling across power cords and across foul lines, climbing ladders so painfully that it seems like they’re only half way through a high colonic, blocking the passageway while staring blankly at compartment diagrams in the vain hope of figuring out where in hell they are, and how to get to the wardroom. Come chow time they will be sitting around a table thirty minutes after having dined, oblivious to the aircrew standing around the margins, holding their plates in hand and hoping to finish before heading up to the roof to provide the evening’s entertainment. After a few cups of coffee they’ll talk themselves into hanging stern end out of the freezer while digging up all the good ice cream. Because it’s free.
Nah... just park me on Vulture's Row for the duration, and I'll be thrilled. :)