Wednesday, November 26, 2014

A Good Bad Interaction

Everyone has had this experience: you have a nasty altercation of some sort and half an hour later you think of all sorts of funny things you could have said. Or you stew in frustration over how you wimped out and took abuse from some idiot who you should have punched in the face because you didn't want to get in any trouble (or if you're at work: fired). Having a good bad interaction is a skill you can develop if you keep your wits about you and stay in the game, while also realizing what the risks are and not going overboard ( a la When Keeping It real Goes Wrong ). I have plenty of these sort of donnybrooks at my work place environs and am happy to share my life experience.

Recently, I had an unexpected encounter with an awful woman. It only lasted about 3 minutes and barely affected my morning, but it could have been much worse.

I was doing a delivery (I'm a delivery guy) at an apartment complex. As soon as I arrived, I noticed a woman glaring at me like I was a Nazi. I began unloading my parcels and this Insidious 2 ^ esque banshee woman came up to me and began demanding to know why I was "throwing the packages". I assured her that I wasn't throwing anything and that if any damage was done to the parcels they could easily be returned for a full refund. She wouldn't let it go and said that she was going to go get the building manager and inform him of my behavior. This, of course, makes NO SENSE because I don't work at the building!!

(Meanwhile, he's not even the building manager he's just a security guard. He doesn't manage anything except going to the strip clubs in Providence I know the guy he is my friend Jay.)

(Also note: There's a strong correlation between people who do shit like this and people who have no idea how the world works.)

As she stalks off I go "Hey lady" and drop the package that I'm holding from eye height to the ground. This further raises her dander, so much so that she calls me an asshole! Sure, I'm quasi harassing a woman who's my Mom's age, but this is America. You can't just shit on people and expect them to respect you because you were a teacher or something once.

I finally proceed to actually deliver the things and I see the her explaining her situation to an utterly baffled cleaning guy (?) who directs her to the security guard aka Jay, my good friend, behind me and we attempt to reel this puppy in. He winks at me and says "Sir, could you please be more careful with the packages in the future" and I assure him I will be. She's not buying my contriteness and she shouldn't, it's completely phony and I can't even keep a straight face but somehow it ends.

bad bad interaction

The irony is I was actually glad to receive the information that it appeared that I was being too rough with the packages. That could get me in trouble if someone who isn't completely nuts sees that and calls my actual boss instead of an illegal immigrant cleaning guy on me. I've modified my unloading techniques, particularly in more public areas. If I see her again I'll probably throw one at her fucking head though. What the hell is her problem? I found out later that she doesn't even live there! She's someone assistant or something.

Nassim Taleb (author of The Black Swan) "Nothing that can get you in trouble can get you in trouble".

Monday, June 30, 2014

Don't Snitch

I work at a much maligned shipping company that I won't name. There are articles online about how we're mistreated and how Dickensian our lives are and so forth. It's actually not that bad. The pay is terrible, but the work is easy and getting fired is hard. With the right attitude it can be almost weirdly liberating.

Rudy, my friend and co worker who is a hardcore infowars devotee, basically believes Mike and Tim, our bosses, blew up the World Trade Center. I won't get to into it but order to bring our packages we deliver down to us they drive it from this other location and to pay for their time and the truck they take a little bit out of our paycheck yadda yadda yadda. It's a really minor thing but in that, a world of conspiracies are born. I don't understand it. If he wanted to, he could drive up and get his packages himself but instead he just complains...and complains...

and he always screws up.
Tim and Rudy have almost come to blows over these two issues. They had a nice screaming match this past winter while we were all inside the back of the truck which was quite intense audio wise. Nothing beats being in a metal box in the middle of the coldest winter ever while barely awake and having horrible cursing jar your mind/ skull.

Recently Rudy was added to the witness list for a trial. He'd been at a party where a rape and attempted murder occurred and now they'd found some DNA evidence. The defendant was some gang affiliated guy who was already in jail. Rudy wasn't excited about the prospect of testifying and was somewhat (rightfully) paranoid that the guy would try to get to him before the trial.

The other day, Rudy forgot a pay roll which you can't do, so Tim came to his apartment to get it. He knocked on the door, but Rudy was in the shower, probably working up a facebook rant. His room mate (he lives in a boarding house thing) was like "Rudy it's for you, they sound really mad". Rudy started freaking out: it was the guy!

"I started looking around for something to use"
He settled on an electric shaver and in his mind tried to figure out a way to weaponize it. Perhaps transform it into some kind of razor tazer or something? Meanwhile, Tim had by now made it to the bathroom door...

Well, luckily, before the raze taze was unleashed he figured it out. He stormed out of the bathroom absolutely furious even though the whole thing happening was his fault. He informed Tim that he's done with " ______" (our company) then launched into a scathing indictment (is there another kind?) of the operation with the usual sinister overtones. Tim had heard it all before and just wanted the payroll, as it's peoples paychecks that they need and which we're hired to deliver.

Both of them told me this story separately and neither of them seemed to think it was very funny. Rudy btw has four hundred million tattoos and Tim is a Soccer Dad.

Here's a bonus selfie of me from the freezing cold argument day