I was doing the work of two people; easily. I just want to make that clear. I don't want anyone to think that I was just being a dick.
Here's the scene. It was maybe over a year ago and my company had just moved. I was worried about some of the challenges of the complete warehouse move long before it happened but what happened was a clusterfuck beyond anyone could imagine.
The people that you were sure you could rely on did their best to keep things afloat. The ones that we couldn't rely on... well they became even more useless than I would have guessed which means the burden bearers were all on edge and forced to do more and more as the ranks of those that were checking out of the entire effort began to increase.
It was under those circumstances that Michelle walked across the warehouse being escorted by my friend Kenny. For those of you not in the know, anytime a white woman comes at me at work with a male escort, she about to start some shit and she fucking knows it.
Unfortunately for Michelle, I had been bending over backwards, trying to keep things together for weeks and I was in no mood for critique.
What had happened was, apparently one of our sales orders was supposed to be sent for next day delivery. This was one of maybe 40 orders for that day. To ensure that it got it's due attention did my customer service reps:
A) Hand deliver the order and give instructions verbally
B) Call me to alert me
C) Carrier pigeon
or
D) Leave a three word note in the margins and continue abouts their day
In retrospect, the carrier pigeon probably wouldn't have worked. I don't fuck with stray birds like that.
Anyhoo, as Kenny got closer I smelled what the rock was cooking by the look on his face and waited for whatever bull shit complaint to arrive and when it did, a peculiar thing happened. Do you have that little voice in your head that usually adds it's two cents and goes back to watching 'Friday' in the back of cerebral cortex? You know, that one that says 'run' whenever you hear sirens or compels you to look at the 70-year-old cleavage on the librarian? Somebody threw that nigga the keys when Michelle proclaimed that the mistake was 'bullshit.'
I remember starting out trying to weigh anchor a little too late. The Captain had seen the rocks and tried to save her but the ship was running aground no matter what. So instead of an explosion it was a quick crescendo in to "Yeah, but everyone would make that mistake. I'm not perfect and... This IS some fucking BULLSHIT!" which would have been a good place to stop for niggas that want to keep their jobs... I continued.
(Mind you, I'm in full yelling mode, now. There may have been some finger pointing and the flexing of pectorals and what have you.)
"Receiving doesn't know jack shit. Anybody could have walked their ass out here fucking told me what y'all wanted and but gotta do all this shit my fucking self." Michelle and I were maybe 2 feet apart with Kenny not quite getting between us. For a moment there, I kinda forgot he was there. It was just me and Michelle, who looked like a baseball player that looked like he just hit for an easy out with the bases loaded. I, on the other hand was slowly roping the beast in when I realized the CSR should have caught this mistake 24-hours ago and it would have been a moot issue but, again, they were out of carrier pigeons that day.
Kenny offered some sort of nervous solution which at least got me to stop yelling. There was no way that a representative from every department hadn't heard me at this point and I was in a full flip out in front of maybe the 4th in line in the company (Michelle).
Now, I said I stopped yelling. However, I was still mad. Honestly, I'm still not happy about the whole incident. While they did eventually get me some help and we got the move completed, it was just another example of people passing around blame and me getting caught holding the bag which is all too easy because I do so much of the lifting. I mean, it's easy to blame the person that does everything, isn't it? I wasn't getting paid like that and I'm still not so the levee was bound to break sooner or later. Michelle and Kenny just got the front row seat.
We concluded that the next time there was such an emergency someone would come and alert me personally... Never fucking happened. Today the procedure is to circle the three word notes at the end of the order. Progress (when it happens).
You're probably wondering what sort of reprimand there was for me after chewing out a higher up. Nobody ever mentioned it again. Not a joke, a side-eye or a meeting at HR. The wolf had come out and apparently the general consensus was to never push those buttons again. Good thing, too because I was still mad. I'm pretty sure that I stayed mad until we went through a weekend. I'm not sure if it showed on my face or not but it certainly wasn't a grand idea to challenge me on the fact that they got mad at me after they threw me under the bus. Social etiquette be damned. Everybody could pick a partner, trot themselves over and all get their head bitten off. Equal Opportunity Crazy Person, here
My only real disappointment is that I'm usually better at not showing my entire ass in the workplace. There will always be bursts of telling people what they need to hear. That's human. Then there is the "I'll fucking punch your lights out right now" side of me that needs not show up at work. At my age, it should probably be reserved for disrespectful Nazis and Trump ralliers. That fine afternoon, the beast went right after a five foot white woman that could have got me fired, even though it wasn't even about her or particularly her fault.
What did we learn? If you come for an underpaid, unappreciated nigga in the middle of the day, you kinda get what you deserve. In a way, it was America's fault. Dear America, pay what you owe and quite gassing up white people that can't fight, lest you pay what you owe.
Here's the scene. It was maybe over a year ago and my company had just moved. I was worried about some of the challenges of the complete warehouse move long before it happened but what happened was a clusterfuck beyond anyone could imagine.
The people that you were sure you could rely on did their best to keep things afloat. The ones that we couldn't rely on... well they became even more useless than I would have guessed which means the burden bearers were all on edge and forced to do more and more as the ranks of those that were checking out of the entire effort began to increase.
It was under those circumstances that Michelle walked across the warehouse being escorted by my friend Kenny. For those of you not in the know, anytime a white woman comes at me at work with a male escort, she about to start some shit and she fucking knows it.
Unfortunately for Michelle, I had been bending over backwards, trying to keep things together for weeks and I was in no mood for critique.
What had happened was, apparently one of our sales orders was supposed to be sent for next day delivery. This was one of maybe 40 orders for that day. To ensure that it got it's due attention did my customer service reps:
A) Hand deliver the order and give instructions verbally
B) Call me to alert me
C) Carrier pigeon
or
D) Leave a three word note in the margins and continue abouts their day
In retrospect, the carrier pigeon probably wouldn't have worked. I don't fuck with stray birds like that.
Anyhoo, as Kenny got closer I smelled what the rock was cooking by the look on his face and waited for whatever bull shit complaint to arrive and when it did, a peculiar thing happened. Do you have that little voice in your head that usually adds it's two cents and goes back to watching 'Friday' in the back of cerebral cortex? You know, that one that says 'run' whenever you hear sirens or compels you to look at the 70-year-old cleavage on the librarian? Somebody threw that nigga the keys when Michelle proclaimed that the mistake was 'bullshit.'
I remember starting out trying to weigh anchor a little too late. The Captain had seen the rocks and tried to save her but the ship was running aground no matter what. So instead of an explosion it was a quick crescendo in to "Yeah, but everyone would make that mistake. I'm not perfect and... This IS some fucking BULLSHIT!" which would have been a good place to stop for niggas that want to keep their jobs... I continued.
(Mind you, I'm in full yelling mode, now. There may have been some finger pointing and the flexing of pectorals and what have you.)
"Receiving doesn't know jack shit. Anybody could have walked their ass out here fucking told me what y'all wanted and but gotta do all this shit my fucking self." Michelle and I were maybe 2 feet apart with Kenny not quite getting between us. For a moment there, I kinda forgot he was there. It was just me and Michelle, who looked like a baseball player that looked like he just hit for an easy out with the bases loaded. I, on the other hand was slowly roping the beast in when I realized the CSR should have caught this mistake 24-hours ago and it would have been a moot issue but, again, they were out of carrier pigeons that day.
Kenny offered some sort of nervous solution which at least got me to stop yelling. There was no way that a representative from every department hadn't heard me at this point and I was in a full flip out in front of maybe the 4th in line in the company (Michelle).
Now, I said I stopped yelling. However, I was still mad. Honestly, I'm still not happy about the whole incident. While they did eventually get me some help and we got the move completed, it was just another example of people passing around blame and me getting caught holding the bag which is all too easy because I do so much of the lifting. I mean, it's easy to blame the person that does everything, isn't it? I wasn't getting paid like that and I'm still not so the levee was bound to break sooner or later. Michelle and Kenny just got the front row seat.
We concluded that the next time there was such an emergency someone would come and alert me personally... Never fucking happened. Today the procedure is to circle the three word notes at the end of the order. Progress (when it happens).
You're probably wondering what sort of reprimand there was for me after chewing out a higher up. Nobody ever mentioned it again. Not a joke, a side-eye or a meeting at HR. The wolf had come out and apparently the general consensus was to never push those buttons again. Good thing, too because I was still mad. I'm pretty sure that I stayed mad until we went through a weekend. I'm not sure if it showed on my face or not but it certainly wasn't a grand idea to challenge me on the fact that they got mad at me after they threw me under the bus. Social etiquette be damned. Everybody could pick a partner, trot themselves over and all get their head bitten off. Equal Opportunity Crazy Person, here
My only real disappointment is that I'm usually better at not showing my entire ass in the workplace. There will always be bursts of telling people what they need to hear. That's human. Then there is the "I'll fucking punch your lights out right now" side of me that needs not show up at work. At my age, it should probably be reserved for disrespectful Nazis and Trump ralliers. That fine afternoon, the beast went right after a five foot white woman that could have got me fired, even though it wasn't even about her or particularly her fault.
What did we learn? If you come for an underpaid, unappreciated nigga in the middle of the day, you kinda get what you deserve. In a way, it was America's fault. Dear America, pay what you owe and quite gassing up white people that can't fight, lest you pay what you owe.
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