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At my former place of employment we frequently would leave the area we were supposed to be working at in order to run errands. If you were more than 2 or 3 miles away from where you were supposed to be you were considered "off the job" and could be suspended or fired if you were caught. One guy once got caught 7 miles from where he was supposed to be while eating at a KFC, and when he was asked why he was there he said they had better chicken than the KFC that was around the corner from where he was supposed to be.<br /><br />Usually if your boss was off that day it meant that as soon as they finished some work a bunch of guys were going to be flying around all over the county hitting up far away lunch spots or jetting to their house to do whatever. Lots of us would talk about who has driven the furthest, and the stories went that a couple of dudes who headed into the city once (30 miles away) or some dudes who frequently hit the beaches (including me, maybe 6-10 miles away) were the ballsiest and took the biggest risks. And we always wondered if anyone could make it to Montauk and back (100 miles each way) in one day.<br /><br />On one of my last days of work, with my boss out for the day, I took the all-time, unbeatable title. That was our version of the Montauk Project.<br /><br /><br /><br /> <img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v115/sweendoglongisle/IMG_0047_2.jpg" alt="" /><br /><br /><br />And of course I had to get a souvenir for the truck so the next dude to take it over remembered the legend...<br /><br /> <img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v115/sweendoglongisle/IMG_0063.jpg" alt="" />
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