Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Vendetta Blues: Twitch of Death Labia.

On top of having fucking bronchitis and working every fucking day, there’s a 'firing fanny'* after me. There’s this battleaxe of a manager at work who is well known for getting off over sacking people, it’s her only outlet. She always looks like she’s having a constant heart attack and hasn’t sacked anyone in about a month. I sense her thobbing-veined, thick-headed firing–horniness grow. She’ll fiddle her “final-warning labia” until working her way to her full-firing climax. I’ll be like two minutes late or not sweep up some tiny bit of crap or something and she'll use it as an excuse. One of the last KP's got the sack for asking for his wages on a Saturday when he had a day off, a monor misunderstanding turned into a stupid argument and him getting the sack (with yours truly filling in). I could almost sense it this Monday, when I got a head’s up call from one of the kitchen guys: 'don’t be late today or you get a ‘final warning'. So before I’m even late, she’s already planning to give me a final warning for me being late, what kind of Schrodinger's cat type sacking method is that! I work in a kitchen for fuck's sake, it's not Minority Report. So you were planning to give me a final warning, which shows that you really want to sack me, but didn't get the chance because I came into work on time and will continue to do so because if I don't you'll fucking sack me? So the fact that you didn't ge to give me the warning is the reason you won't get to give a warning.

Oh yeah, the fact that I’ve been coughing up blood the last two days and still come into work doesn’t mean shit, the fact that I get kept late every day for at least an hour doesn’t mean shit...if I’m a few minutes late, I get a final warning then the sack. Hey I don’t mind, as long as I last until the staff party so I can drink my own body weight in booze at someone else’s expense whilst wearing my black suit and spider-man tie. (Have contemplated getting a Spidey mask, but I don't want to go down that road, as I might want to wear it all the time). No worries, I’ll just act as stupid as she thinks I am and drink my sugary tea.

(Christ! that post was a bit harsh, but I was quited pissed off when I wrote it, hope I got that across ok. That boss woman still isn't speaking to me, unless it's to give out. As a Kitchen Porter I am obviously subhuman. Am still hanging on in there at my place of work though-have to work every night almost until I get home for the Christmas! Am writing this on my only night off until Sunday, hoping that sleep-deprivation will step in as an intoxicant in lieu of red wine...Oh well, think of the money eyes on the prize and all that jazz.)

*More notes on slang for the overseas readers, I mean 'fanny' here in the British slang sense of furry front bottom, 'the crimson' the 'pink lettuce leaf' etc (I'm sure there's loads more here) rather than 'fanny' in the American sense as in 'ass'. Cf 'fanny pack' versus 'bumbag', which can cause confusion or embarassment to stupid tourists. To be honest though one should be ashamed of wearing a bumbag or a fannypack, 'ooh it's for security' I hear you say, what's so secure about advertising you're valuables in a garish external dayglo bladder.


John said...

Wear Your Queen Amidala suit. You know the one!

Lorcy said...

yeah, I think my queen amidal suit is at home somewhere, must dig it out and wear it on my 30th, it does bestow me with an air of nobility, especially when coupled with jeans and a cigar.