I'M MAD AS HELL AND I AIN'T GONNA TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!

Over the last six months while I look to regain my foothold on a proper career path and put my life back on track I've been working at a warehouse that distributes medical supplies. The job is so easy I imagine NASA could train a monkey to do it in under two months. You take the printed off order sheet, grab a pump truck and palette and go around the warehouse picking off the appropriate products for shipping. Couldn't be simpler right? Right.

My department manager (#1) is a cool dude. He understands that this isn't the kind of life a guy with a university education wants to carve out for himself. His number 2 (#2) on the other hand is a complete douche. I didn't think anything of him until four months ago when he reamed out a co-worker of mine in front of everyone for picking one wrong box on an order that was less than $80 [aside...most of our orders are in the four digit range]. Now I may not have much managerial experience but what I know is that if you're going to give it to a subordinate for fucking up you sure as hell don't humiliate the guy in front of the crew. You take him aside, and you go through the process of rectifying the problem.

The day I was officially hired to full time from temp, #1 told me not to let #2 under my skin too much. And for a long time I didn't. Despite the numerous times this guy would bark orders and talk down to myself and the rest of the crew or just ignore sensible safety advice for the sake of looking right, I rationalized to myself in many ways that getting upset over this idiot manager is just not worth it. This is just a side trip before I can save up enough coin and get back on track. I'll be gone before I know it and he'll be here forever never moving up the ladder as he's the butt of the other mangers jokes.

Two weeks ago though, I fucking snapped.

My cell phone rang. It was my brother on the other end of the line. My brother never calls me at work so rather than letting it go to voicemail I answer. He tells me I got a letter from a municipal job I applied for. The letter is promising news. #2 sees me on my phone --

#2: DEEPINIT GET OFF THE PHONE!!!
*I give him the index finger to show him one second while my brother reads out the letter*

I hang up the phone and get on to the forklift to load the finished orders on to the truck when #2 approaches me.

#2: Deepinit, get off the forklift and go finish the orders
Me: There are no more orders I just did the last one, why do you want me off the lift, I've got my license now, what's the big deal?
#2: How many times do I have to tell you to quit slacking off at work?

*cue four months of condensed rage stored in the recesses of my mind*

Me: Slacking off?! SLACKING OFF!?!! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING A SLACKER? Go check and see how many times my name is in the fucking book today!
#2: What the hell are you doing on the phone during work time.
Me: It was my brother, he never calls me at work so I wanted to see what he was calling me about.
#2: Well what the hell is he calling you for?

*unleash the fury*

Me: WHAT. THE. FUCK. IS IT ANY BUSINESS OF YOURS WHY MY BROTHER IS CALLING ME? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?
#2: I'M YOUR SUPERVISOR THAT'S WHO!!
Me: AND A PIECE OF SHIT SUPERVISOR AT THAT! WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM? YOU'VE BEEN GIVING ME SHIT ALL FUCKING DAY!
#2 *trying to scream over me* BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT FUCKING WORKING!
Me: I'M NOT WORKING? WELL WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING ON THIS FORKLIFT?
#2: YOU LISTEN TO ME!

*everyone in the warehouse has stopped to see what is going on*

Me: NO! YOU LISTEN TO ME! YOU TALK DOWN TO ME, YOU TALK DOWN TO THE REST OF THE CREW. WE'RE NOT FUCKING DOGS FOR YOU TO ORDER AROUND. I KNOW WHAT MY JOB IS AND I DO IT WELL. MY NUMBERS ARE JUST AS GOOD AS ANYONE ELSE'S AND YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO QUESTION OTHERWISE UNLESS THE LOAD AIN'T ON BY 4:30. AND ANOTHER THING! FROM NOW ON, WHEN YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY TO ME YOU END YOUR SENTENCES WITH 'PLEASE' AND 'THANK YOU'. I'M NOT YOUR FUCKING MUTT AND I WILL NOT BE TREATED LIKE THAT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THE FUCK I'M SAYING TO YOU??? HERE HAVE YOUR FUCKING FORKLIFT BACK YOU STUPID FUCK!

And with that I left to help out another co-worker and try to calm down. (What you thought I was gonna quit over that? Fuck no I need this job too. Let them fire me if they want.) An hour goes by and no one talks to me, obviously shit scared at what they've seen. Up until this point I've been known as very reserved and not expressing too much opinion on anything in my quest to be labeled as one of those guys who just comes in does his job and goes home. The department boss comes to see me.

#1: Eh boi, you fightin' wit #2 now?
Me: Boss, listen the guy's been on my case all day and on top of that tells me I'm a slacker. Fuck that.
#1: Ah well, sometime you gotta let it know how it is.
Me: As long as you're cool, I'm fine. I don't want to fuck with your Chi around here.
#1: Ha! It's not my Chi I'm worried about, my Chi is fine. It's my Tao dat need to be looked after.
Me: You're fucked you know that?
#1: Ah, you do good work round 'ere, don't worry bout it.

And with that, the day was mine.


Two weeks later and #2 is still saying please and thank you anytime he speaks to me.



FOCUS: Talk about a time when the normally reserved 'take-it-on-the-chin you' suddenly gave way to the 'take-no-shit-ball-buster' you always dreamed you could be.

Did you finally tell your mother-in-law who controls shit under your roof? Did you expose the co-worker who stole your million dollar pitch for the unoriginal scumbag that he is?

 

I'm going to creatively interpret the focus as "People acting batshit insane"

 

My last job before I joined the Marines was working a summer job at a Deli/Pizza/BBQ place that was attached to a regular restaurant and bar and hotel on the 2nd floor. I was literally the only one working this place 6 days a week and some random cook came in on the 7th day so I could get a day off. I put in nearly 65-70 hours per week at this place and knew its ins and outs like a motherfucker. I cooked, cleaned, served, prepped, and maintained this place, the only thing I didn't do was order supplies. All was well for about 4 months when the owner hired this dickhole dude to be a general manager of the restaurant, bar, hotel, and my little place. This guy would micromanage every fucking thing in the building down to exactly how many/much of what ingredient I put in the food I made. I was doing alright with him staying out of my hair because I just kind of ignored him 95% of the time and kept doing shit my way, because it was working well and some days of the week they would actually take in revenue enough to cover the cost of my hourly wage.

Anywho, my last day of work unknown to me at the time, I was walking through my place through the bar to the main restaurant to get some supplies that I needed for the day. Dude was giving me a hassle for not being in my area and that I was completely open for anyone to take anything. I did this on a daily basis and knew that at the time I left to get some stuff, no one was coming in, at all. Plus it wasn't like I could get anyone from the main restaurant to bring me that stuff, they were all either drunk or too stupid to know what I need. Well, as I was walking back with some of my crap, there was a guy standing at the check in desk and no one was there to help him. So I take it upon myself to help the customer out, and it turned out all he needed was that there was a package waiting for him. I ask his name, and give him the package that was waiting for him...no big deal. I continue my day. About an hour later, dickhole gm tries to confront me about the guy and the package but fails miserably because he has nothing to blame on me. A little while later, I'm walking by the bar to get something again and douchenozzle comes up about 20ft behind me and yells this: 'Hey Diablo, I need to talk to you.' I ignore him because I know what he wants and I'm not gonna give him the time of day. So he drops this little yelp out: 'Hey DUMBASS!! I'm talking to you!!' I stop, turn around and try to comprehend my boss calling me a dumbass in the middle of the bar with maybe 10 customers sitting eating. I decide I'm not going to have any of this and decide to ask why he wasn't at the place he was supposed to be, which was that desk, and that I was doing his job for him. He is speechless and can't come up with a valid excuse, so I walk past him, back to my area, grab my shit and walk out the back door never to come back again.

Keep in mind I was the ONLY one working this place, so me walking out is kind of a huge fucking deal. Cue me being happy as shit, the owner getting a call about this guy, and the douche getting reamed for not doing his job, how shitty of a job he was doing, and getting demoted to my position and forced to run my little place without knowing anything about it. I got a nice pat on the back from a few of the other workers for calling this guy out. Not the most ball-busting story, but I like it.

 

I used to work the hardest non-enlisted job there is- Hot tar flatroofing. Those who have dared to do this job know it is the most strenuous you could possibly imagine, and every foreman with a flatroof crew is a 24-7 douche fountain. Ours, John, had the temper of a retarded 6-year-old and would regularly throw tools and other shit within his grasp whenever he lost his mind, which was every 30 seconds or so. He was a complete and utterly miserable sack of shit.

On a day before one of the summer long weekends, I couldn't WAIT to get off work and get silly. John was making the day as long as he possibly could, he miserably married to a fat ugly chick he couldn't escape from. He flipped out because he felt us labourers breaking our backs weren't breaking them fast enough, so he threw a HOT MOP in disgust.

A roofing mop is not like a kitchen mop. For one, it is eight feet long, and weighs 35 pounds when wet. Another, the thing it is "wet" with literally is five times hotter than boiling water. This stuff is hot enough to kill you if you were hit the wrong way, and he recklessly threw it in our direction. 2 years of frustration cut loose:

ME: "You stupid, crossed-eyed fuck. You could have killed us because of another of your pink panty meltdowns."
JOHN: (Charges at me) "Don't fucking tell Me what to do, pussy! Get the fuck back to work, boy!" (My biggest pet peeve on earth is to be called "Boy" by another adult, and he knows this. Then, he jabs me in the chest with his finger.)

So, I hit him. I simply popped my elbow under his chin and knocked him out cold. I had never struck another coworker in my life, or even moderately threatened one. At first, I thought "What have I done?" Then, I was more worried because I may have to fight him when he wakes up, so I contemplated knocking him out again too buy so more time to think.

In the end, nothing was said. Really. I guess I shamed his pride, and since he came at me first and I, a simple drone at them time, put him tits up in front of the whole crew.