The Next Day

It was the next day, or if you want to be technical about it, the fourth day (i have the weekend), and I had to go back there. Why the fuck would they want me to come back? Why would you want somebody that you've just rejected and essecialily told that they were not good enough to have power over your companies finances? What I do has a direct affect on the companies finances. It woulld be so easy to manipulate an estimate to fuck them. Leave out a whole scope of work to insure that the job was a loser. It would be so perfect, if for not one thing. I can't do it. I can't do a sub-par job on an estimate. It's what makes me a good estimator. Just this once I would really love to be a mother fucker and fuck them right up the poop shute.

So it's the day after(you know what i mean) and I have to be back there.I show up with every expectation that I will be shown the door post haste. But no. We have our regularily scheduled estimating meeting first thing of the day. I decide that I'll go and see what shakes out. See how quickly I'll be shown the door. I walk in the door of conference room D and I get a............."Good Morning Erich". What the fuck! Good morning?! The last time we talked you were telling me what a piece of shit I was and how glad you were to get rid of me! Did i walk into the wrong room? So. ignoring the white elephant in the room, I go sit down. Bill just moves straight into the schedule of who's doing what and as it has always been done, I go first. So, taking a que from him, I start going through my items. All the while thinking, "I won't even be around to do these things that i pretending to have a plan to successfully complete. And why? Becasue you fucking fired me you fucking prick mother fucking sperm burping cum guzzler fuckwad!!!!!! And so we move on to the next person on the list,.............John.

So a half an hour later I've made it through the meeting. i settle into my desk and try to figure out how I going to make it through the day. And who should apprear? Fucking Bill. He then asks me to come into his office. He's being very nice. Too nice. Bill has never been nice to me. What the fuck is happening? It's like the fucking Twilight Zone in here! So with an enormous amount of trepidation, i sit down. All the while thinking to myself, "What's he going to try to do here? He's not that smart. I shoud be able to figure this one out." Then he says, "I wanted to talk to you to figure out what you'd like to do this week to make it as easy for you as possible" What? Easiest for me? What the fuck are you talking about? You fucking dick! You fired me you asshole, why the fuck are you asking me how you can make my week easier when I really shouldnt be here at all!? You fired me you dick, you should be making my life hell like you did on Friday. I don't understand this at all. This is all fucked up. I guess i goes along with how fucked up it is that you fired your highest producing estimator. booyaa motherfucker. The rest of the conversation was fairly one-sided. Bill spoke a little and I just sat there stunned. So enough, I was on my way acroos the hallway to my office where i could sit and contemplate what just happened.

So there I am, sitting there, thinking, trying to think about what just happened and how I was going to make it through the rest of the week, and then it happened, my future motivation. A phone call. An innocent phone call. Bill picked up the phone and either because he thinks he cant be heard, or I can't hear, decides to have a conversation with whom I would guess to be, the head of HR in Minnesota. Bill is obviously uncomfortable, he's stammering, chewing on his fucking mustache furiously. I hear him say, "Yes, I recieved a phone call from Minnesota at ten o'clock (midnight in Minnesota)  on Friday night, from Kent (The president of the company) and he said that he wanted me to put a hold on whatever I was doing. All I could think is that this was awesome. I was under no illusion that they could reverse the tide that Bill had started and somehow keep me on, that would be stupid and short sighted for them. But, could at the very least draw some critisism towards bill. Make them look at him a little more closely. Becasue really rhat' all it will take for someone with an intelligient veiw on a persons skills to seee htat Bill is a complete fucknut and a horrible manager of people.The phone convesastion ends with him tryig to convince, who I assumea at this point to be the head of HR, that she does not need to come out here from Minnesota. No, no, he'll take care of it. No need for you to spend precious dollars coming out the bum-fuck washington to do an exit interview with a malcontent estimator. So the phone call ends and unfortuneltly for bil, dealing with this has not ended. Off he runs to Kim's office for an hour and a half meeting on the subjects.          God, i would have loved to have been a mouse in the corner during that one. Watching Bill sqweram around trying to figure how to deal with this fuckup.

Crazily the rest of the day went rather well. Quick and painless you might say. Tomorrow Bill has an appointment with Minnesota to talk about "Issues with potential changes with the Senior Estimator position". I can't wait. This week is turning out to be awesome!

How the Fuck did this happen!?

I'm sitting here in my living room on a Saturday night at 9:30 pm, and all I can think is, How the Fuck did this Happen?! I'm good at what I do, really good. How the fuck did that mother fucking prick get the okay to get rid of me?

I guess I should go back to the beginning, the most recent beginning that matters at least. I, until yesterday, or until next Friday ( I pretty sure the actual date is in question), worked at a mid sized regional office of a larger national construction general contractor out of Minnesota. The office I worked out of is in Tacoma, Washington, should have been the first sign, stupid mother fucker that i am ignored that one. I joined then two years ago and was filled with hope and excitement for the future. I was successful, I was winning work, and winning it profitably. Then, my boss left. It was a temporary delay, we just moved on. I toke over the daily running of the department, and dealing with the monkeys. There were lots of monkeys. the biggest was Aaron. If he could lie about something, he would. Sometimes, he wouldn't even know what it was he was lying about, it was just his first response, lie. There's so much more with Aaron but I really can't go there just yet. Later. Fucking fat fuck. Then, there was John. John is one of those guys that loves to talk about how busy he was. Always busy. There he'd be in the office next to mine and I could feel him slamming away on the keys of his keyboard. Everyone jokes about John slamming away on his keyboard pretending to be busy. Except, he didn't bid anything, or price anything. The funny part is that he really thinks that he's fooling all of us. But, John is a good guy. He has a good heart, and that counts for a lot in my book. If it doesn't for you, fuck off, I don't give a fuck. The next monkey is a complex one, one that needs a whole other post. Much like Aaron, but the opposite of Aaron. Pat. Or Patty I should say. For every shitty character trait of Aaron, there is a balance, the good trait of Pat. For Aaron's lack of responsibility, there's Pat's unfailing streak of taking responsibility for everything, which can be quite annoying when he taking responsibility for your stuff. For Aaron's extreme dishonesty, Pat's complete and total honesty. But, we'll get to Pat later. Next there's Ned. Ned is the old horse. He's 69, lives half the year in Arizona and runs half a dozen marathons every years, including the Boston Marathon,  in which he wins his age group every year. My first experience with Ned was not a visual or a tactile one, it was auditory. Everywhere Ned went he ran. Our office is very spread out and when Ned leaves his office, he runs. Have to take a piss, Ned's running to the bathroom. Print something out (which he does with abomb), run to the printer. The distinct part with Ned is that Ned always carries his keys in his pockets, and they are serious keys. This collection of long-dead lock openers bulges out from the front of his right pants pocket like some grotesque fucking tumor, but it's not. Just fucking keys. So these keys jingle. It's like an early warning system that Ned's coming down the hall. Before you turn that corner, listen, is Ned coming?

Wow, I'm starting to realize how little I've really touched on all the people, I mean monkeys. I'm really thinking that all of them need a entry all to themselves. I think I'll start that tomorrow.