I can not keep a secret

The new ranger was moving into my old barracks, and the trails people were moving out of my new barracks, so my stuff needed a place to rest for one weekend while cleaning services scooped up the detritus of people who work outside for long hours: muddy boots, random woodland debris, things that fall on the floor, and the floor is too far away to toss the offending item. Filthy filthy pigs, myself included.

No problem, there's a fisheries garage right next to both barracks- easy enough to ditch things there for a few days. I considered this my plan for a couple of weeks.

Two days before I have to move, Big Boss asked me where my stuff was going to rest.
"The fisheries garage" I said blithely.
"Ooooo." Said Big Boss "Mr. Fish will not let you do that. He's really fussy about stuff going in there." I nodded sympathetically. Crazy Mr. Fish, not letting people store seven hundred pounds of grass seed or a small seed starting greenhouse with a mere 10,000 forb seedlings. But where will I put my things? "You can leave them in this office, as long as they aren't on the floor or the desks." Great...

So I have a chat with Mr. Fish. I say that the things are small, and will be there for a mere three days. I say that I have nowhere else to go. I point out that things in the office will be unpleasant for all. I imply that our families have long been friends. (This could be true) My arguments are unneeded. I can put things in the garage, he says, as long as I don't spread the fact around. Hurrah, Mr. Fish. Hurrah. I will not tell the wrong sort about this.

One Hour Later: I have realized that the wrong sort is probably both Big Boss (Who knew she would blow this out of proportion? Who learns from experience?) and the barracks manager. Who I told. Immediately. Excellent. I tell the adjoining barracks that my stuff is in the garage illegally, and that I will return for it in the dead of night.

Four Days Later: Ah, good. The story is everywhere. Big Boss is upset that I get special privileges. Mr. Fish is blissfully unaware of my betrayal. There are large dogs between me and my stuff. Big Boss cleaned my new barracks, but not the old ones. Maybe this will remain underground until I escape?

Big Boss smiles. She and the rest of the crew will move my stuff to the new barracks. I nod, go to the adjoining barracks, and obtain permission to walk through with things. Big Boss points that we should get Mr. Fish to open the door to the garage. Easy. No, no, I insist, we can just walk through the lovely men's barracks, with the people drinking... soda! soda that does not break the barracks code! We can walk right through the dense clouds of... dank... smoke...

C'etat fucke`

So. My desire to keep a promise to a blameless man is less than my deeply ingrained "don't rat dudesout to authority" training. Screw you, Killingsworth. OH YES IT WILL BE EASIER THROUGH THIS DOOR IF YOU JUST STAY OUT HERE LOOKING IN YES! Little boss digs through Mr. Fish's desk and comes back with a handful of keys. Big Boss moves some coolers to new locations and mismatches all the river shoes for spite. We move my stuff. Big Boss goes to give Mr. Fish a lecture on sharing while he mournfully rearranges his keys.

I suck.