Gut Rumbles

August 27, 2004

stealing from work

I always found it interesting to see the number of flashlights and batteries that disappeared from the company store room when a hurricane was headed our way. I also found it interesting to notice how many pens and pencils and notebooks disappeared at the beginning of every school year. I knew what was happening.

People were stealing them to take home because they were too cheap to buy them with their own dimes. Nobody in charge seemed to give a shit.

After 24 years in that plant, I ended up with two yellow flashlights and a hard hat that I'll never wear again. The first flashlight I took from my belt one evening after I got home and forgot to take back to work the next day, so I ordered another one. (I needed a flashlight on my job.) I was wearing that one when I was fired retired. The hard hat I never gave back because I was barred from entering the plant again without a security escort and I refused to submit to that kind of humiliation.

I left everything in my office and told the person who CALLED ME about picking up my stuff to kiss my ass. I never stole a fucking THING from that plant in 24 years, at least not on purpose, and they wanted to treat me like a goddam felon. Why, I don't know, but I am certain that Kerr McGee has a written procedure about how to handle employees they just fucked over.

I received an email from my replacement about 10 days after I left the plant. He's a true Kerr-McGee kind of guy: "Rob. I have your job now. You had a nice larder in your office. I ate all your food and gave away the cigarettes you kept in the top desk drawer. Can I keep the jacket?"

I wrote him back and told him that he could not only keep the jacket, but he could jack off over that picture of Jennifer I had in the BOTTOM drawer of my desk. I kept food there because I often worked long hours and didn't know WHEN I might get home. I didn't want to run out of cigarettes, either. Hell, just ask her. She saw what I did at work and how many hours I spent there, only briefly, but she saw it just the same.

Do I sound bitter? GOOD!!! I mean to.


Coming home covered in fine white powder - you were a sight to behold!

And you looked dead dog tired, too.

Posted by: Da Goddess on August 27, 2004 02:25 PM

I sure hope there more to this story.

Posted by: James Old Guy on August 27, 2004 02:33 PM

It's an old story isn't it?
The teacher asks little Becky on her first day of school, "Where does your father work?"
"A factry." says Becky.
"And what do they make at the factory?" the teacher asked.
"Ball-point pens and toilet paper." Becky replies.
"My, that's an unusual combination. How do you know that?" the teacher continued.
"Because that's what he brings home from work every week." Becky explained.

Posted by: BlogDog on August 27, 2004 08:29 PM

I have to agree. Just cannot stand people who steal from work.

I'm a secretary, so I'm in charge of the office supplies and making sure there is enough to go around. I get so disgusted by the "I don't know where that box of pens/pencils/highlighters went to" routine. Same goes for notebooks, etc. GRRR!

I just don't get it.

Posted by: Gina on August 27, 2004 11:35 PM
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