Saturday, August 12, 2006

My Boss

My boss, the owner of the company, is a fucking asshole. He can't help it though, he comes from a long line of pricks, he was born into this business and his dad was a bigger prick.

Old timers remember his mom and dad, and everyone from this generation will remember him and his jagoff ways.

They don't have the insight into him that I do though, they don't know he can't help the way he is, it's passed on.

I've worked for every kind of prick you can imagine, they're all the same, about as much class as a fucking outhouse.

They have no social skills, yet they think they're a charming lot.

They have no fucking clue that they're the idiots, not the rest of the world.

They are big shots in the "Carny Bubble", Lowbrows" when they step off the lot.

Some of the younger crew members don't know how to deal with the prickish boss, I do, here's a few pointers.

1. "DO NOT" try to be the bosses friend, he has none, what makes you think you will be the first?

2. "DO NOT" try to have a conversation with the boss, he could give two fucks about you or your opinion, or your personal life.

3. "DO NOT" try to win brownie points in any way whatsoever, don't jump in and trash someone when he's bitching about them to you, he's doing the same thing to you behind your back to fool. Now he thinks you're a bag licker.

4. "DO" your job, show up on time.

5. "DO" tell him to "GO FUCK HIMSELF" if he unjustly gives you shit, or tries to blame his own mistake on you, he's probably testing you to see if you're a doormat.

Just do your job, don't acknowledge him unless he does you.

In time he'll come to respect you and let you into his graces.

Most never make it, they're baglickers, the world is full of them, weaklings.

My Initiation

Freezing rain. I'm 14 years old and soaked to the bone, the wind is blowing through my wet clothes, my teeth are chattering, every part of my body moves stiff and slow I'm so cold.

I'm kneeling beside the big tent we just finished putting up, the canvas flaps are being whipped by the wind and hitting me in the face. I'm holding a stake upright on the cold cement, waiting for the sledge hammer and that dull metalic "thud" as metal meets metal.

I'm scared, terrified, the boss tells me not flinch, or look. He yells above the howl of the wind that if I do he'll end up "shattering my fucking hands". That's exactly the way he puts it.

I hold the stake straight and look away, in that moment I learn to focus, the ability never leaves me, to this day I can still focus in any crisis while I watch others fall apart.

From that day forward I held the stakes while the boss windmilled that sledge hammer, I never flinched and he never missed.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Out in the Cold

I've been kicked to the top bunk, the equivalent of the couch. My woman and I had a little disagreement guessed it, sex.

I was actually quite mature about the whole thing, I shut up and moved to the top bunk.

Not so many years ago I would have booted her cute ass right out the fucking door in a heart beat.

I'm older now, sober, clean, and a lot more docile in some ways, I just don't have the jam to scrap about that stuff anymore.

I'm still pissed off though, maybe I'll torture her tomorrow for awhile.

Sorry I haven't written, I couldn't, no time, zip. I work my ass off every day, plus there's always some fucking crisis I have to deal with.

I have a lot to say and write when the end of the season finally get's here.