I call my clients *friends* since they don't pay me. I took this one *friend* down the river a few years ago and he was all hot to catch a steelhead on his flyrod, even though the technique he used was a prostituted form of bobber fishing. He rigged a floating line with a long leader and a nymph, a split shot and a large strike indicator and would flip it from pocket to seam, etc.

We were moving through a riffle at a pretty good clip when he snags up on the bottom and flyline starts flying off his real. So he clamps down ot the spool and points the rod upstream at the snag. Flyline is like big rubberband, so Ikept looking downstream and hunched over in the boat knowing what could happen. The next thing I hear is my *friend* hit the floor of my Willie like a limp noodle, and doesn't get up right away. When he finally did he had a hand over his eye and blood covered most of his face. I felt sick. I was sure he lost an eye, but a few minutes later we dicovered the splitshot had mearly hit the bone right above his eye and tore a half inch hole in his face, and faces bleed like crazy due to the high density of small capalary blood vessles. Strike one.

Later I asked him to back my truck down to the launch while I cleaned my boat up. When he shows up I see a dent in my right rear quarter panel. I asked him what the fuc% happened, and he plays stupid. "I didn't do that, did I ?," he says. Later I slowly jackknifed my trailer to see how it could have concevibly happened and the winch handle lined up perfectly with the crease in my quater panel, at which point the left wheel to my Baker trailer was so far forward the geometry would require mental retardation not to notice. "I didn't do that, did I ?."

Strike two. He ain't been back in my boat for strike three.