Tag Archives: fired

The Deal

23 Oct

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…So the deal is, two days before I went on vacation for a week in order to open this show, Corporate arrived on a surprise visit, fired The WHS Pimp, and brought in another guy.

…With no time to process any of this, I had to call a cab to take The Pimp home, and meet and start training my new Boss, within two hours. Hadda total meltdown at lunch in the car, then finished the day, ran music and lines with a recorder, and that night, went to see our Sister show Open…only to wake up and do it all over again the following day.

….Friday night, I left my desk with no fucking idea if I’d have a job or an office by the time I got back, a week later…but there was certainly no way I was gonna cancel the vacation, as I was also (as previously discussed) freaking the fuck out about opening this show.

For a week, I sought a buffer and tried to land some kind of solid footing on emotional ground. I didn’t succeed. But I did survive.

….And I came back from my non-vacation, to the same job and desk. And I didn’t die, or have a meltdown that Monday. Even when Corporate came back again. And I didn’t on Tuesday. And I didn’t on Wednesday.

…And I say this more as a form of wonderment than achievement, because I still don’t know why.

These past months of awful, just seemed to get so much worse, even when I thought it couldn’t possibly. That bitch peaked at like a Mount Everest height…so it makes sense that it was hard to breathe and terrifying at every step.

…And then, because, I guess there’s nowhere higher to go in the vicinity: it stopped climbing to worseness.

…Which doesn’t mean the world and my problems in it are magically fixed somehow…it just means that at some point, the fates were like: “Yep, she’s totally teetering on her last straw. What comes next is what they make Lifetime original movies about…guess we should back off her ass a bit and see if she can keep floating or drowns. No use beating a dead horse…”

Despite the fates’ combo-metaphor usage, they knew enough to stop when they did. I’m not gonna say I’m grateful about it…they’ve been making dick-moves for ages. But I will say: “It took me two weeks to process all this, and I think both theatre and office worlds are slowing achieving a better place.”

…Leaving me with an actual weekend, were I can actually relax a bit, with only laundry…a performance, and a choice of whether to audition for that one show, or just wait and work on Seattle Fringe.

This is a more reasonable speed, fates. (In case you were wondering.) This, I can do.

~D

Rocket-Shipping In The Warehouse

2 Nov

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We are one less Employee in population today, here at the ol’ Brothel.

…The WHS Mgr walked in this morning on enough pot, canned CO2, and empty beer bottles to launch an Apollo mission.  The company truck was missing, the forklift: naked in the yard with the key still in it, the gates wide open, and the only clue to go on, being from his WHS lackey at 10:30 PM last night…calling in “sick” for today.

…And now we know why.

A stellar employee, he never was…this is fact.  But that is to be expected from a grown man still living with his parents, who smelled of alcohol poisoning and organ damage, perpetually…never bathed, and had a penchant for hitting on everything with an “X” chromosome.  Even the AM/PM tellers across the street were creeped out in his presence.

“How did he get the job to begin with then,” you may ask?

Because Boss has a “thing” for “second chances” in life. Because he was cheap. And because he answered the ad.

…In that order.

Sure, he had to pass a drug screen et al upon hire, and he did…though at least two of us (in retrospect), have no idea how. It was obvious to us, within a week, that this guy had “issues”…and grounding him from whipping the forklift and trucks around was about the maximum power that either the WHS Mgr (or I) had in this. 

…Which, then, leaves a fairly useless employee, wandering around, making piles of stuff in the yard, then reorganizing them into new piles, over and over and over again.  Occasionally he would paint, or repair something. Sometimes he would shelve some stuff, but by and large his specialty seemed to be off-the-clock drinking, tweaking out on any number of alternate-controlled substances, showing up two hours late, and stacking things, while bitching.

He will not be missed.

Now…every time a layoff occurs here, there is this whole “procedure” we have to undertake directly afterward. Because anyone who has ever worked here knows every weakness in the system of his place…and they know the hours we keep, that the alarm pads are purely for “show” and that if they want something it takes very little effort to get in here and take it. Not that we have much of any worth, outside of product…which weights a literal shit-ton, but with a forklift and a truck in-hand, this place is easy pickings really…and everyone knows it.

…So, instead of doing his average Friday of usual fix-its, the WHS Mgr has been flying around changing locks and bolts and combos and passwords on everything all morning long. Though we know that these things only work enough to keep an honest person honest, and that any pissed-off, drugged-up, drunken asshole who might want to get in, to say…deface every piece of property we own…could very easily do just that, with only a pair of bolt cutters and a 2 x 4.

…We KNOW this…

…And of all the layoffs, THIS is the one that verily PROMISES a return payment. We totally expect it. We just don’t know exactly what it’ll be, or when, or how.

…Which is sorta terrifying, really.

…So today, we are each of us, boxing up and relocating materials and things so that when (not “if”) the inevitable occurs, the damage might not be so bad. But it probably will. And we’ll have to deal with it. Most likely, on Monday.

…Which it totally great, cuz that’s exactly what we NEED! I often say that, in fact: “Geeze I wish we had more crap-happy calamities on Mondays! I feel there just isn’t enough of that in general, around here!”

~D

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