Tag Archives: thievery

Great Moments in Employment History

Employment

Welcome to a new regular feature here on the Abyss. It will allow me to talk about work without actually talking about my job. That’s a true win-win! For all of us.

I recently hit the wall. Hard. Every time I sat down to write, nothing would happen. If I did write, it was pure crap and went to the Drafts folder to die. I had lost it.

But then I realized there was a bountiful cornucopia of blog posting ideas already inside of me: My personal employment history. So I’m back, motivated, and ready to bring you this ongoing series I have decided to call, “Great Moments in Employment History.”

I hope you enjoy…

When babies are born, they are so pure, so innocent. Naturally our urge is to shield them from the ravages of life on this planet and the true nature of the universe. We lovingly protect them and nurture them until they are old enough to face what they must, even if we wish that wasn’t necessary. Our work done, we then send them out into the real world to get a job and go to work.

That’s when the shit goes sideways. Sorry, mate. Now the real education begins.

I once worked at the same company for 16 years. I started out working part-time on the night shift on the dock loading vehicles. Our shift was 11pm to 4am. The following scenario was not uncommon:

The supervisor would let everyone know that when the work was done, rather than clocking out and going home, we were to meet by the telephone in front of the loading dock for a “meeting.” So there we gathered, at four o’clock in the fucking morning, loitering and waiting. When all of the stragglers finally arrived and we were fully assembled, the meeting was on.

“You can all be replaced,” the supervisor told us. This was my humble introduction to the concepts of motivation and inspiration in the workplace. I remember it vividly as if it was only yesterday. “We had to wait around for this?” I knew I had latched on to something good. That must be why I stayed 16 years.

Later, after I had worked my way up to supervisor, it was time for my education to continue. Our clients paid us big money to process their things. (I’m deliberately being vague to protect the identities of the evil.) These things were not cheap. There were big machines we owned that did this processing. The nature of our business was such that the things were time sensitive and our processing was decidedly not verifiable by the client. They had to trust us. All we had to offer was our integrity and our word. (Ha!)

One night, one of my fellow supervisors fucked up. The shift was over and the crew was already sent home. He then discovered shitloads of product that he had failed to process. This was an extremely common occurrence, although it was not usually of this magnitude. (When this happened in small quantities unreported disposal was routine.)

While I did my end of shift duties, wrapping up the logs and producing reports, the supervisor waited until the coast was clear. He had fucked up. He had two choices: Admit the mistake and fix it later and make it right which would involve an admission of guilt and some form of future compensation to the client. Or he could hide the whole thing and cover his ass.

Anyone willing to place bets on what happened?

I saw him throw all of the forgotten product into a giant garbage bin. For once in his life he didn’t bark orders at some minion. He actually did the deed himself. Furiously he worked at it until all of our client’s product has been tossed into the bin. He then took the bin around back and found other stuff to dump on top to hide his handiwork.

This guy was good. After all, he was a supervisor, right?

So the client had paid twice. Once to create the product, then once again for us to process it. If our service was “destruction” then we had done an admirable job. In the end, the whole thing was a fucking joke and the client got absolutely nothing for their money, although they never even knew it. And for what? So some incompetent idiot could avoid a black mark on his record.

I hope you enjoyed this trip down memory lane. If I try really hard, I just might be able to think of more memorable moments from my personal work history to share. Perhaps we’ll explore this wonderful topic from time to time. Do you have any of your own? I’d love to hear them.

The Grapes of Wrath

Not too long ago, it’s been three or four weeks now, I gave up on an old friend. That’s right, I no longer add granulated sugar to anything. That includes iced tea, coffee, etc. I’m trying to be healthier.

It’s been rough.

I’d been drinking glasses of water all day. Not my favorite beverage. But I was doing ok. I decided to mix it up a bit.

Suddenly I have a new appreciation for fruit juice. Go figure. After a few weeks of water, I had an apple juice and it was delicious!

So I decided to try some grape juice. I went to the store and picked up two 64-ounce bottles of Welch’s grape juice for $4.59 each. I had a coupon for $1 off when you buy two, so the actual price was $4.09 per bottle.

To stretch things further, I did some experimentation and decided that a ratio of half juice and half water was right for me. I don’t want to be buying a bottle every other day so I want to make this stuff last.

I kept one bottle at home and I took one to work. It is pasteurized and has to be refrigerated after opening. That means I had to keep a bottle in the work refrigerator.

My job doesn’t provide potable water (unless you count the toilet and/or sink) so I bring my own Klean Kanteen with water every day. And I was actually looking forward to enjoying a little grape juice to enliven my otherwise shitty day.

We all know by now how this turns out, right? If I actually dare to want something then that becomes The One Thing that will be denied to me. This is the way of things.

I went to work yesterday and there was my bottle of Welch’s grape juice, completely empty and sitting in the trash!

Out of that 64-ounce bottle I was able to actually drink about 8 ounces. Yes, for those keeping track, that works out to be about $4.09 for a glass of grape juice. What a deal!

As I sat there considering this dastardly turn of events, the boss got up, lumbered over to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of juice, took off the lid, and brought the wide-mouth opening up to his gaping maw. Gulp, gulp, gulp. Ugh, what a sickening sound.

I turned to myself and said, “I dare say, Watson. We have cracked the case!”

This was worth pursuing. I couldn’t help myself. “Say, boss,” I said as casually as possible. “Did you also drink from the bottle of grape juice that was in there?”

He wouldn’t answer the question. How telling.

Then he said, “Oh, was that yours?”

“Yes. It was.” Emphasis on the was. Rest in peace, my dear bottle of grape juice.

WAIT FOR IT. HERE COMES THE KICKER THAT MAKES THIS A TALE WORTH TELLING…

“Oh, I didn’t know who’s that was.”

Excuse me??? What the fuck?????? You unimaginable bastard!

You didn’t know who the grape juice belonged to, therefore you drank it. I see.

You motherfucker.

Words fail me at a time like this. Seriously. What can you possibly say to that?

“Simple logic, Captain. When ownership of the grape juice is indeterminate, logic suggests you drink it anyway.”

Khan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So yeah, I wasn’t really planning to talk about my new job quite so soon, but forces have allied against me. There are usually pros and cons associated with most any decision, and switching jobs was no exception. But I still don’t know, even after a month on the new job, if I’m in the frying pan or in the fire. Either way, one thing is certain. I’m fucking cooked. But more on that later.

Boy I just can’t wait to go to work today.