Page 4 of Wild for You
I’ve had my pilot license for six whole months and have made at least ten trips to Costa Rica, where I do most of my tourist expeditions. Besides, it’s not rocket science. Yes, flying a plane is sexy as hell, and yes, I worked my ass off to pass the test, but sometimes people just have a natural talent for things, and piloting is definitely one of mine.
It’s Friday night, and we should be celebrating another successful adventure, but thanks to the douche-canoe who thinks rules don’t apply to him, I’m sitting here with my manager, who’s on the verge of a conniption. What was supposed to be a normal wildlife tour turned into a complete and utter mess. On the bright side, I’ll be able to fly back home in time for my buddy Benjamin’s engagement party tomorrow night.
Benjamin popped the question to his now-fiancée, Elliot, last week. I’m so damn happy for them. I can’t wait to stand by his side when he says “I do” to the love of his life. He hasn'texplicitlyasked me to be his best man yet, but I know it’s coming.
So now I get an unexpected night off to celebrate with my crew before I have to hit the ground running in recon mode.
I take a swig of my beer and shiver at the memory. “Did you see the tendons in his arm? They were just dangling in the wind. It was gnarly.” I scrunch up my nose at the memory and chance a glance at Landon. His face is as white as a sheet. He pins me with a death glare, mirroring my grade school headmaster, Sister Maria.
I swallow a gulp and grab a menu to distract myself.
I realize this may seem like a really big deal, especially since the man in question was in my direct care … but I have the entire thing on film, including the part where I specifically told him not to go near the caiman. Plus, everyone signs a waiver before we depart. So, as far as I’m concerned, mother nature is to blame, not me. This is the fucking jungle. Anything can happen. That's kind of the point.
I haven’t always led excursions for rich, delicate men through the jungle.
Ten years ago, after graduating college with a biology degree and a minor in marketing, I helped Benjamin start his marketing firm. I learned a lot about the trade, but mostly I learned that the daily grind of the nine to five wasn’t for me. I craved adventure, so after leaving the corporate world behind, I set out to discover myself. I traveled the world and started a vlog. Pretty soon, white-collar CEOs and other high society folks began asking to accompany me on my travels. One thing led to another, and now I own the fastest-growing nature channel on Youtube. People from all over the world spend thousands of dollars for week-long trips to exotic locations led by yours truly.
While it pays well, the main purpose is to create content for my YouTube channel. Over the last five years, I’ve been able to take my hobby to a global scale and turn it into a thriving channel where I teach my audience real-world survival skills.
So I split my time between leading tours where I film real people learning survival skills and going at it solo. For my solo trips, I poll my audience quarterly and let them choose where they want to see me rough it. Then I set out alone with only my video camera and what fits in my backpack.
People love living vicariously through the lens of my handheld camera, and I get to make a living doing what lights me up. I really am living the dream. I never imagined I’d make a living doing what I love, but here I am. So, while Landon is having an aneurysm over a mere flesh wound, I’m not sweating it. Money’s not my end all be all. If I lose a couple of sponsorships because some dumbass didn’t want to listen, so be it.
I sneak another look at Landon, who’s hunched over his phone with a finger in his ear, shouting over the techno music blaring through the speakers.
“Just hear me out—” Landon’s plea comes to a sudden stop, and I assume the person on the other end of the line hung up on him.
He rolls his eyes and slumps in his seat in defeat.
“Landon, my man, you sound too desperate. You can’t beg like that. You’re showing all your cards.”
“Jack, could you just shut up for one minute while I rack my brain andtryto fix this! They’re calling you the Johnny Knoxville of the Wilderness. It’s on the front page of Google, for Christ’s sake!” he hisses.
“I feel like it could definitely be worse …” Landon doesn’t take the bait. He just rolls his eyes as he dives back into his contact list, putting the small phone up to his large sweaty head.
“Alright, it’s your evening at stake.” I hold my hand up in surrender.
I really hope he remembers to hydrate because at the rate he’s sweating, the poor guy will need IV fluids by the end of the night.
“You’re lucky you have me around to clean up your messes. Do you know I’ve single-handedly talked you out of three sponsorship drops? If we don’t do something quick, you’re at risk of being demonetized,” he snaps.
“I already told you. I have the footage.” I pull out my phone and show him the clip, pausing it the moment after I told him not to go near the caiman.
“Do you really think your sponsors care that he didn’t listen to you? Jack, they’re dropping like flies over this.” He drops his voice lower, pinning me with his angry gaze, “Someone got their arm bitten off—”
“It was closer to being ripped off. The caiman bit it, but the death roll was what actually tore his arm off,” I correct him.
Landon shakes his head and continues, “On a live video where over fifty thousand people were watching.”
“So maybe we can spin this into a lesson? Maybe the message needs to be:don’t be dumb.” I try my best to sound hopeful, but Landon doesn’t bite.
“I don’t have time for this right now.” He pushes away from the bar, dabbing his forehead with a napkin, “I’m going to step outside for some fresh air and clear my head. Please don’t post anything on social media until I give you direction. I’m waiting to hear back from Sandra at Éclat. Her people are the best in the business.” He keeps his eyes trained on me, making me even more uncomfortable under his scrutiny, “Jack, I need you to listen to me. If you want to salvage this and keep from losing everything, you’ll have to do whatever they tell you to do. This isn’t a game. Your career is on the line.” His voice trails off, turning to leave.
Well, isn’t Landon just a ball of sunshine?I roll my eyes and gesture for the bartender to pour me another beer as he walks away.
The truth is maybe I should be freaking out right now, but everything in me knows things will work out. I know it may seem naïve or lazy even, but I live my life guided by my gut, and my gut tells me this isn’t over.
Now I get to work with some PR agency and bullshit my way back into the good graces of my sponsors. I feel like a scolded child. I’ve got one night of freedom, and then I’ll be flying back to Costa Rica, this time accompanied by some high-profile babysitter who’s supposed to help “clean up my image.”
