That guy at work infected me. Remember I told you about a week ago? Some guy at work hacked and sneezed all over me as I was stocking a machine? I was angry because he gets buckets of sick time and he could have easily been paid just as much to stay home?
Yesterday the sore throat progressed into the classic cold symptoms. Ugh. Today I had to work. I don't have sick time and Ron can't do my job. I felt like some awful disease vector; praying to God that our customers or paratransit drivers would not catch my cold. As it turns out, it's a very good thing I went in today.
Chuck had called us and warned us that the sink is being replaced. It backs up what appear to be coffee grounds, so someone is dumping coffee grounds into the sink on a regular basis and clogging it, or I've heard maintenence people tell stories of fishing out disgusting clogs of meat fat and god-knows-what. People don't treat the drain properly, it clogs often, and someone finally made the right complaint.
The solution is not to tell people not to put bad things down the drain, but to replace the whole sink and all the pipes underneath it. We may pay for it in the next stamp increase, but other than that it shouldn't affect us, right?
When we came in today, the whole corridor in front of the sink was roped off with caution tape. Ron was unable to access 3/4 of his machines as a result. Ron asked the maintenence guy if he could open up the area so he could get through. No, the man replied. OK. How am I supposed to fill my machines, then?
The next thing I know, the man is shouting angrily at Ron. He's sick of Ron. He's sick of the questions. He's sick of the complaining! Ron asks the man's name. The man shouts it at Ron and then says he'll be happy to give his social security number. Ron says, who is your boss? The guy REALLY goes off then. You'll just have to find out on your own, he shouts.
My first reaction was that this couldn't be happening. This is the second time this year that a maintenence guy has "Gone off" on my husband (the other guy was enraged when Ron asked him to turn down a very loud television). I'm very low-key, but very protective of him. My second reaction was the expected, I'm going to get you. I went pretty straight to wrath of God brimstone wanting to murder him.
I call the front office while KG (dumb to give his real name) is shouting at me to go ahead and cry to Mommy. Am I going to tell? As the lady in the front office answers, I explain. I give the man's name. I hold the phone up so she can hear him shouting at Ron again. Ron was a cool cucumber. He doesn't feed into the guy at all, he's just calm and smooth. I asked "Front Office" to "Please get his boss out here, someone needs to yank his chain and make him behave. He's yelling at a blind cripple now. What's next?"
Within 30 seconds, the radio crackled. It was his boss. By this time, my hands are shaking with rage. I went over to Ron and we figured out a work-around so he could do his job. I had to basically escort him the long way around several times. I also wanted to be there if that man went off on him again.
During and after work, Ron made series of phone calls. He started with the plant manager and worked his way down to the man's immediate supervisor. It's been well documented and it ought to go in his permanent record.
"KG lost his house in New Orleans during Katrina. This isn't the first time he's done this." Well, I'm sorry for his loss but that doesn't give him carte blanche to attack my husband. Ron wasn't baiting him, he asked a simple question. How can I do my job if this is blocked?
If he is post-traumatic, I'm sorry. I have empathy for everyone who lost homes. But I have problems. I have emotional conditions. I am well aware that if I'm not medicated, everyone suffers. If this is all due to his "trauma", then he needs to take a leave of absence, see a counselor and get some medication. My psychiatrist specializes in post-traumatic stress syndrome, he says there are many excellent medications out there. He's got insurance to pay for all of it unlike me.
Don't go postal on my husband. It's a damned good thing I took my medication today or there would have been blood on the floor.
I asked Ron. "Is it OK to hope he caught my cold?"
He laughed.
Now I have to pray for the guy who infected me, and that.
No comments:
Post a Comment