Today was a pretty cool day… We went to the Long Island Scottish Games, (we go every year… we became engaged at these games a number of years ago), and had a really nice time. There are folks that we only ever see when we go to the games, and that’s pretty cool, but we also simply enjoy the games themselves. We watch the pipe bands compete, the solo piper competitions, as well as the ‘heavy games’ where the big boys toss the caber, the war hammer, the sheaf and the stone. There is good food to eat, and vendor stalls to browse, and everywhere you look there are scots socializing and having a good time.
After the games, we stopped off at one of our clan members house for a barbecue. We hung out there until around 11 PM, and then we headed on home.
Tomorrow, we are planning on going kayaking with another member of the clan, so tomorrow should be a good day as well.
After spending the day walking around, or standing, my feet are killing me. This plantar fasciitis really sucks balls.
Things at work have been pretty busy. They brought one of the yard guys in to start working in the office. He’s a smart guy, a hard worker, and we get along swimmingly. We share a lot of laughs as work, and I’m really glad that they brought him in to the office. (I’ll call him ‘FatCat’).
Since they brought him inside, the female who did the bookkeeping has quit and moved away to Florida. This happened with very little notice, so he and I were designated to learn how to do her job and to take up the slack. What we have learned is that she had no system whatsoever, and apparently made a great number of mistakes that she simply covered up. It’s a bit of a nightmare, to be honest, but we have sorted out a great deal of it. The problem is this, since FatCat came to work inside, the other folks in the office have started to carry less and less of their weight, leaving the two of us to handle everything while they discuss fishing, sports, snowmobiling, music concerts, and what have you. We more or less didn’t address it, but lately, while we are each engaged in taking care of multiple clients and multiple incoming telephone calls, we have been screamed at to ‘Help the fucking customer!’ or ‘Answer the fucking phone!’ by one or the other of the other folks in the office… and this while they are doing what amounts to nothing while we are literally jumping through our asses!
This wears thin fairly quickly…
The Old Man has a penchant for acting as though he was the owner or the overseer or something when customers are in the shop. At one time he owned his own business… a very similar business which subsequently failed somehow. It is my suspicion that he is attempting to somehow live vicariously through this job… to that end, I generally never say anything or express anything that would disabuse him of his notions or otherwise make him feel badly… I like the man, and I enjoy working with him, but he has his moments (translate as: He can be a miserable cranky curmudgeonous old bastard at times…) which sometimes try my (our) patience…. He has a particular affectation which has begun to get under my skin where he will loudly state that he ‘isn’t paying me’ to do whatever it is that he thinks I should not be doing at that particular time… this conveys to whoever happens to be listening that he is my employer… which is decidedly is not. He is a co-worker, and that’s it. After a full week of his verbal abuse, I had pretty much had it up to the eyebrows and he stepped over the line when I had watched him chat with his buddies practically all day long as I ran around like an asshole trying to keep up with everything. That would have been okay, but he wanted me to type something up for him, chiefly because he can’t type and he can’t spell, and I told him that I would do it as soon as I took care of the nine or ten customers standing there waiting for service, took care of the four telephone lines on hold, faxed out the five or six requests for documents of some sort or another, and called back the other sixteen people who had attempted to call in orders but had to be put off because I had a shitload of customers standing in front of me… he blew his top, because he wanted it done right then, and in front of a room full of people yelled that he wasn’t paying me to fuck around all day, and that I had better stop what ever the fuck I was doing and get his thing done immediately. It was about four steps too far over the line, as far as I was concerned, and I immediately got my back up, and in full bristling highland temper I informed him that he did not, in fact, pay my salary, that he had never, ever, in all of my life before that moment, EVER given me a single solitary cent, and that contrary to whatever beliefs he currently held, I was not his slave, or his secretary, or his underling, and that if he wanted his thing typed, he could scrape the glue off of his ass, or whatever it was that was keeping his ass stuck to the chair, get off of his lazy butt, and type it his fucking self! I reminded him that he was a co-worker to me, a fellow employee, nothing more, and nothing less, and that I only ever did what he told me to do out of choice, not out of duty or compulsion, and that if he ever expected me to help him with anything ever again, that he had better get the condescending tone out of his voice, or that he could go fuck himself. And then I turned back to my work and continued on with whatever it was that I had been doing.
Two things happened. It got very (very) quiet in that place. And, I learned what 'apoplexy' and 'conniption fit' meant. He turned a number of colors, and basically had a cow. I don't really care. There are some things that are inexcusable under any circumstances, and being a complete dick sort of fits the bill. If you want to get respect, you have to give it. Period. I will ignore a lot of crappy behaviour, and overlook a string of socially unacceptable actions or instances. Once you tramp over my boundaries repeatedly, and then ask me to pay you for the pleasure of having you abuse me or mistreat me in some way, however, you will hear about it (and in no uncertain terms). I feel no immediate compulsion to be apologetic about this, by the way...
He has chilled out quite a bit on the verbal abuse, though, and when he asks me to do anything for him now he is at least marginally polite… (well… sort of ….. you can’t teach old dogs new tricks, I suppose… at least not in this case.)
Regardless… he knows what my feelings are about the way he was acting now, so if there is a repeat performance, I will address it a little differently, I think, because at that time it will be a few shades more deliberate.
I am seeing some pretty decent strength gains at the gym. I want to get strong as hell, and little by little, I am slowly getting there. It takes a lot of work, but that’s fine by me.
It makes it all the sweeter when the goals are met!!
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