I've haven't been a lot of fun of late but even worse since being stuck down in packaging and the thought of being down there till February is making me sick to my stomach. Part of the fun is watching touch guy Philip giving dirty looks whenever you look at the squint but the guy is doof. Surprises me that he got any in his lifetime. Funny how he goes around and acts ghetto but fact that 4 foot 5 white jiggers bragging he's going to get some is comical beyond belief. He's so much a turn off that even Meg Griffin would tell him to piss off. Besides dude, it's not good practice to have your baby's footprint on your arm for the world to see. Might be love to you but the rest of the world, it's just gross and bizarre.
Despite what they tell you, the packaging folk look at us printer people as 2nd rate citizens it seems. We done it our way for so long that it is hard to get used to set breaks, set lunch periods and set exercises and have to wait till the bell sounds to leave. Or get called to do tasks and usually we are the last for the shit jobs aka sealing books. Which will be our fate till printing picks up again. And then to hear them scream MAKE RATE per hour. To which I say you get what we give, nothing more. We'll do our best and then I'll quality check my work before you get it. If I fuck up I rather catch it than have Mr. Slappy Philip tell me about it. I'm too set in my ways and too senile to deal with ghetto whiggers like him. And so it goes.
They don't understand good English either. Bob used to own a record store in Iowa city or Coralville, I may have visited his place once and didn't find anything of value works in packaging and he was asking my employee number and while I was trying to give it to him, I kept getting interrupted by the failed strip dancer talking about something. He interrupted me and said it was on my badge and I said no shit sherlock, if you didn't interrupt me I would have given it to you. No wonder his record store went belly up.
With us losing printing contracts and Vangent taking most of the fall printing away to cheaper companies we have found ourselves farmed out to Packaging land, a place when about a month ago didn't mind being there but a month later so GD sick of it that had I known this was going to be hell, I'd taken my Arizona vacation in November. The Thankgiving Dinner we did celebrate ours with Printing department and I guess one of those took exception of that. Oh you think you're better than us? he said to somebody not me. And I said don't wanna sound rude Norm but we didn't decide this, you hate us, we hate you and if we did share Thanksgiving together, I'd rather go out for fucking pancakes than get acid indigestion stuffing ourselves with your food. We feel like fucking strangers down in packaging and it seems y'all have it out for us. I'm sure you wouldn't think twice of helping yourself to our food if given the chance. We're fucking pricks in your eyes even before we got farmed out.
Here's the thing, I was doing wrapping stuff and putting it on the pallets before you took that away and gave it to Mr. All Everything Philip I told Norm. We are here to do the job, not get yelled at every fucking little thing that happens. Viv, yells at me earlier bout some books that have 2 or 3 of the same serial number in there, and told her I think I got that by reading the listings. Brooke has a damn cow when we have an open container cup. Bob tells us to clean up at 10:45 and then starts yelling we gotta keep working till 11. And then go down there and get yelled at by stating that coats must be put away before the bell starts. I have never been in a department like Packaging at our place of work that degrades you to the point that you don't want nothing to do with these co workers of ours. They don't even acknowledge you when you run into them at Target or WalMart. It isn't Jeff, the manager that I have a problem with. Nor Tanner, they are good guys in their own right although they take the company policy a bit too far at times but then that is why it's called work. But the majority of the perms there tend to look down upon you from other departments and basically I think they wait till Jeff made out the plans to get us from Printing and assign the shitty jobs that the other perms didn't want so here we are. And they do make us feel like outsiders.
My GF, God bless her, knows how much that I hate being there, she tries her best to cheer me up but when I sitting bitching about things via Twitter, she throws her hands up in the air and says I gotta get back to work. It's such a negative being there that I told her, that I'd gladly take a leave of absence without pay just to get the fuck away from that hell department. That's why we saved up for that rainy day fund. Sure, it's a pain in the ass when the cutter jams in the printer but at least we are in charge of our own way in there. At least we can walk away when it gets bad or take lunch when we want to. Being in packaging feels like your freedoms are being taken away and nothing we do seems to pleases the masses there without them screaming bout an open cup, or not making rate. It better not get to that, I'm sure I can pull rate but at my own time and pace and if I have to sacrifice quality over quantity, then I'll just retire and go pick bottles off the side of the road. Or at least start up a used music store that should last longer than Mr. Schafer's
I can see why Ed retired from our place. He saw the dark clouds of being farmed out to packaging and he bailed. Perhaps I should have too.
