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Friday, June 10, 2011

The Spy Who Watched Me (again)

This is an oldie but goody kind of post. One I did a few years back when I was a complete nobody on the blogging scene. Hell, who am I foolin'? It's still that way, isn't it? Anyway, I thought I'd give ya a post that might have not gotten the attention that some of my most recent posts have gotten. Plus, I'm going to be too busy over the weekend to write up anything new. Aren't I the lazy fuck who doesn't give a proper shit? Speaking of crap, I hope you like this tasty offering.

Years ago, I worked at a hair care product distribution center. I'll refrain from giving up the name of this hell hole, not to protect the innocent, but because I don't want to encourage any shampoo/conditioner freaks, reading this, to buy this company's goddamn products.

While there, my co workers and I would pack product in kit boxes for salons, while the conveyor belt ran between the 40mph mark to a thousand (perhaps an exaggeration). If you didn't get your particular thing (shampoo, brush or whatever) in your box in time before it passed your sorry ass you would receive a hostile, verbal thrashing from the line leader, or worse yet, from the one above that position. The head honcho, herself. Nola. She had the pleasant face of a six hundred year old Shar Pei Dog. Wrinkles Ahoy, Matey!

If you happened to be daydreaming on the line about some hot babe and you also happened to be "sporting wood" or "raising the phallic flag" and Nola, happened to come out of the office and you caught sight of her, your wood would melt like butter or fall like a Oak Tree or just disappear, entirely. Poof!

I know from experience.

In one episode, during my time working there, some freak was wiping shit (his shit?) all over the men's restroom walls, stalls, floors and sinks. Most everyone agreed that it was someone that had an unhappy confrontation with Nola- which could have been anyone, actually. This Spreader of Poo made Nola very angry. It didn't really sit well with the rest of us, either. Our bathroom break times were shortened, for one thing. Plus, we were lectured by Nola every day for the next 2 weeks about the juvenile antics that we, supposed grown-ups, were not to engage in. Whoever the Crap Culprit was, he wasn't creative, in the least. He didn't spell his name or draw puppies on the walls with his poop, like some masterpieces I've seen in some gas station restrooms. But, I digress.

Nola's plan was simple and moronic. She instructed her all-too-loyal and obedient assistant, Chris, to remain stationed in the men's restroom to watch, almost 8 of the nine hours of the day, the male employees pee and poo. Of course, we were given a tiny crumb of dignity. When our backs were turned, while pissing in the urinal, Chris the Brown Noser, refrained, thankfully, from peeking over our shoulders. Good thing, too, because it was rumoured Chris might be bi-sexual. He could have been in trouble for sexual harassment if he had done any peeky boo-ing. So Chris did, as he was told, without question. For him, Nola's word was his command. Nola's reasoning behind her plan? She believed Chris would somehow get real lucky and catch some disgruntled, but apparently, non constipated imbecile, painting walls with own excrement.

Maybe the nasty bastard would be caught.... brown-handed.

Moving on in this tale....

Diligently, Chris would watch our backs while we peed and checked inside the toilet stalls, after one of us exited, for fresh shit decor on the walls and so forth.

Being the considerate guy I am, I poked fun at the somber, serious Chris whenever I entered and left the restroom. This seemed to bring about a certain amount of good cheer to everyone who heard my words of wit, during that time. For instance, I would say to Nola's assistant, "Ah, the Poo Peeper, how nice of you to watch me squirt." Chris' face remained the same, showing consternation at my jovial remark.

After all, it was the kind of job one took seriously.

16 comments:

Dave said...

Ah that dogs awesome. I would love a dog like that. Dont fancy Chris's reastroom watch though lol.

Pickleope said...

Do you think Chris put that on his resume? "Doodie monitor"?

ed said...

haha spreader of poo. sounds like a horrible job

THE SNEE said...

Bathroom Monitor! So that's what BM stands for. Thanks for the education Kelly. Did this really, really happen to you? Yikes! I think I'll go wash my hair now.

Marian said...

that's some story wow

DocStout said...

Remembering bosses like this, whose minds work in this way and allow those minds to dictate a business that determined my personal financial stability... wow, I'm not even looking forward to getting another job now.

Alphabeta said...

Funny stuff. Poor Chris.

Kelly said...

Dave- It was disconcerting to have him stare at us. I'm not sure if he minded all that much. Not because he was bisexual but because he delighted in tormenting us time to time.

Later on, he was fired for something... nothing to do with this.

Kelly said...

Pickleope- Lol. It wouldn't surprise me. He wasn't the brightest bulb in the bunch.

Kelly said...

Ed- "Spreader of Poo"- the benefits and pay are just too good to be true.

Kelly said...

THE SNEE- And now you know the truth, Rebecca. That's what BM truly stands for. And yes, this really happened to me. If I tell everyone an absurd story here that's job related or embarrassing in some way, then you can pretty much be sure it really happened.

Yes, please wash your hair. With anything but something from Loreal, the place I used to work at during the "Great Poo Spreader Incident".

Take care, Rebecca!

Kelly said...

Marian- Yeah, it's an absurd, true story filled with equally absurd true-life people.

Kelly said...

DocStout- One of the reasons I'm thankful I'm on Social Security Disability is that I don't have to work any more of these shitty jobs. I was in a great deal of pain, the last 10 to 15 years, working on disfigured feet, enduring the pain for a paycheck from one half-way decent job to one crappy job to another. What you said is exactly true about the state of being employed in most places. Now, with unemployment at an all time high, people are considering themselves lucky just to have a crappy job these days, unfortunately. I don't miss the working life one bit. I've got more than enough keeping me busy. Take care, my friend!

Kelly said...

Alphabeta- Thank you. Aww... Don't feel too sorry for Chris. Like I was telling another commentor, I don't think he was exactly hating the whole ordeal. :-) Take care!

LilPixi said...

Seriously, thank god for the benefits that help out people like us. I've lived a life of all kinds of physical (& psychological) pain from a really young age. I hated the working world more than hell itself. That's a pretty funny story, though. It did bring me back to that world of hell while I was reading it too.

(I love how my captcha right now is "defies" in the post of the bathroom bandit. LOL)

Kelly said...

LilPixi- Yes, I agree about the benefits. I can relate to you on having lived a life of different pain. In a way, in toughens you up, I think. The ol' "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" line would apply here. Like you and I both know... It's the fighting the impulse to lie down, at times and pushing onward through those struggles is the true way to get through it all. I felt the same way about most of my working life. I didn't take the easy route in that department. I had difficult jobs, either working with the public (like being an assistant manager at an IGA) or working in warehouses (like Loreal). There were others but, for the most part, they sucked for a variety of reasons. Sorry I reminded you of Work Hell with this old tale of mine. :-) Yeah, that "defies" captcha kinda works with the topic, eh? :-) Hope you had a happy July 4th. I stayed home for a change. Take care, LilPixi.

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