Like most of you other poor btards, ..I have an assistant arrange all of my hunts..She reserves the entire park for a "Private Party".. A rental company comes in ahead of time and sets up a big tent over the entire place...its all climate controlled of course.
Theres an open bar set up, a violin group of fiddlers from the Symphony playing softly in the background...a nice comfy "Nap area" with Sealy Posturepedics even....some real high end portacrappers downwind, the big ones! Not the little County Fair cheapos! Theres a catered buffet table, with fine cuts of cheeses, fruits, shrimp, etc...sometimes I have it stocked with KFC, or BuffaloWildWings...depending on my mood...pretty much standard for the average detectorist..
Then, I simply hunt the place! Under the tent! I dress in a tuxedo!...I hit a target, and one of my nubile female attendants, dressed as a French maid does the digging! "OhhLaLa Mr MudPuppy! Its anozer penny!" "Well Blankety friggin Blank!" I holler, and we all laugh!!
I have a butler to light my smokes, and I give him all sorts of hell just for giggles...for instance, I balance a can of beer on top of his head when I'm pinpointing! Hilarious! I'm always bussing his balz about something or another! He is supposed to be wiping off my coil with a wet wipe after every few swings for instance...Or, I send him out to chase away any flies that might be hovering around the crapper...
The rest of the time, he follows along meekly behind, shaking a plastic coffee can full of dirty clad and gravel like its a martini! ....All the digging girls think I'm a riot! Its hard to tell what he thinks...just a deadpan glare like normal...Especially when I say, "I dont hear that damned clad shaker running? WTH are you even here for?" Every weekend, same deal! Different park, different food, but over and over, I force myself to get out and hunt in these deplorable conditions!
Then, back at the mansion, another assistant writes my posts for me even...So I hear you about NO Fun....Some Forum Members here are rich enough to travel with the seasons and not have to put up with these kinds of problems like the rest of us...Damn butlers nowadays! Cant hardly balance a can of beer on their head, shake load of clad or chase off flies even! I dont know what I'm paying this guy for! He cant wipe dog poop off a coil without rolling his eyes and making a big production out of it either! I'm like Hell, go have some shrimp and get yourself a drink...run that clad load over to the Coinstar or something? Take the Bentley! Bring me and the digging maids back a pitchure of margaritas balanced on top of your head, and some BK broilers, Then you can take a nap!!