Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Wednesday, 19 August 2015

The Vibrant And Diverse Workplace

About three years ago The Crack (my boss at work) was ecstatic. "Hey Filthie," says he, "I finally managed to hire someone for the shipper/receiver position out back! She starts tomorrow!" Back then we were still friends and got along for the most part.

The next morning I met "Danny". Danny was a butch militant lesbian that was about 5'6" and tipped the scales at (at least) 200 lbs. Being older and wiser I was able to stifle myself and politely introduce myself and make small talk while maintaining a politically correct and professional exterior. After the introductions, I graciously made my exit and went up front to have a few words with The Crack.

I sat down, disrespectfully put my feet up on his desk and he pushed them off. "Fuggoff, Filthie, I'm busy..." he says. So I tell him. "You're an idiot, you know. You just hired a sexually disturbed degenerate, and you're not only going to have to fire her in 6 months... She'll probably sue you when you do."

The Crack fairly explodes with politically correct indignation! He tells me to shut my hole, or he would write me up for discrimination and misconduct. The office girls start shrieking that I am a great big fat hatey homophobic bigot. And for myself, I just sat in the middle of the maelstrom and basked in the outrage and mayhem. I tell them all with a grin, "You'll be sorry!" and take off to harass my customers amidst a hail of insults and recrimination. I think some dung and rotten vegetables were thrown as well during my hasty exit! HAR HAR HAR!

Fast forward 6 months. One sunny morning the young office girl comes in and puts some paper work on my desk. "Can you run these out to Danny when you have a minute?" Sure, says I. I was absorbed in my own work and thought nothing of it. 20 minutes later the older one comes in with some paper work as well, so I gather up the lot, go out back to do some equipment and test checks, perform some errands - and drop the paperwork off on our vibrant and diverse lesbian shipper.

Later on in the morning the same thing happens again. I grumble to myself that these damn women should take their own bloody paperwork back to Danny - but do it myself because I was headed out there anyways.

After lunch the same thing happens again.  The file girl comes in and furtively tries to put more paperwork for Danny on my desk. "Can you run these out to Danny please?"

No, I says. "Please," she begs. Definitely not says I... And she begins to cry! Now I'm not only suspicious, but mad too! "Out with it!" I roared, "What in hell is going on with you and Danny?"
The older office lady comes barging in, closes the door to my office and quietly explains things.

It turns out that when the girls go back to drop off paperwork on Danny, she leers at them, cat calls and makes sexually inappropriate comments! A couple of times she even grabbed and groped the younger gal!  HAR HAR HAR! I start busting a gut laughing, the file girl starts sobbing at the top of her lungs, and the next thing ya know, The Crack is in my office demanding an explanation for the tears, anger and my laughter. So finally,The Crack shoos the women out, closes the door and glares at me like it's all my fault!

"What are you going to do about this, Filthie?" he demands. I politely remind him that he hired Danny, she is his problem and he is the manager. So he starts whining that I get along with Danny better than anyone else in the company (and rudely speculates that it's probably because we are both sexual perverts and pigs) and that it would be a real boost to the team if I would go back, unofficially explain the problem to Danny and correct it - and then we could hopefully sweep the whole damned mess under the rug. It was true enough: my own daughter is an angry, disturbed lesbian with demons of her own so I did go out of my way to work with Danny - I wanted to try and get a better grip on how lesbos think and what motivates them. I foolishly figured a more informed viewpoint might prove useful with my own daughter.  (It didn't, of course, but at least the effort was made). Unfortunately, it also resulted in the fact that I was the closest thing Danny had for a friend in the workplace.

So I went out back, took Danny aside and told it as it was - without sugar coating it. She had to stop harassing the women, she had to keep her hands to herself and she had to watch her mouth. Of course, the response was rage. Danny angrily told me to FOAD; so I explained that everything I said was unofficial and off the record, and told her that if a man had done what she had - he would have gotten fired and no bones about it! She then made a point of bringing up Workopolis on her computer and proceeded to ignore me as she perused the want ads. What can you do but shrug? Danny was basically a clumsy mockery or imitation of a man and like most lesbians of that type... and she had some serious chips on her shoulders. She had kids and personal problems (a son had recently run away from home). Ugh - I didn't want to know or even think about that.

A couple weeks later a truck driver came in to deliver a load and got in a fist fight with Danny. I still don't know how they managed it - the trucker was a dark skinned vibrant that couldn't even speak English...how do you get in a fight with somebody like that?  We never figured it out but it was plain to see for everyone...Danny had to go. I refused, point blank, when The Crack ordered me to do the deed. The stupid bastard ended up firing Danny about two weeks before Christmas. The timing couldn't have been worse, and I had to give Danny a shoulder to cry on while she tried to get her shit together after getting the news. It was probably the lowest point of my career with this company. I lost any remaining respect for The Crack that day, he just can't seem to handle people with any degree of class. Sure enough, Danny later filed a lawsuit against The Crack for employee harassment and discrimination. I never learned what happened with that and to this day, I don't want to know either.

It is my contention that the social justice warriors can collectively go fuck themselves. Yes, you CAN so often judge people by their looks. Yes, you can DEFINITELY judge them by their actions. Stereotypes are what they are, but they arise for a reason. And NO, all people are NOT created equal. I hope and pray Danny eventually finds a place to rest her spirit and soul. I personally don't think that homosexuality is going to help with that, and I know that political correctness and patronizing won't either. Unfortunately I don't have any answers either.

I refuse to adopt the progressive politics and ideologies required to invert ethics, morality and common sense in order to accept deviancy, degeneracy and mediocrity. Bringing these things into the family has pretty much destroyed those that do - it certainly did with mine. Those office girls that banded together to call me a homophobic bigot didn't even see the irony when I had to go back and tell a homosexual masher to keep her lusts to herself.

It is my new mission: I shall swim or tread the tides of history and ignore the pains of the idiocracy in which I live. I will no longer try to save people from themselves - they simply aren't worth the effort. All that matters to me is my place in the field, at the firing line at the rod and gun club, and my duties at the airfield. I have found my peace and truth - and may you find yours, wherever it is.

No comments:

Post a Comment