[Age 28 – 29] Good People

Django Soundtrack – Who Did That To You.

I dislike recalling this period: things were going very well, then dramatically declined – as happened the following year, with Tranny. Anyway. I quit that fine-dining kitchen, and found a job in a different kitchen, which I eventually grew to love.

The new kitchen was at a retirement home for dementia patients. It was a small community, the residents were mostly insane, I was the only cook on my shift, and my boss was very lazy and didn’t care much about the quality of the food; so, I was free to make what I wanted, how I wanted.

The kitchen itself was wonderful: very spacious, pretty well-organized, and well-stocked with tools and food. The other employees were quite pleasant and well-humored, though some of my immediate co-workers were childish and meddlesome. I simply loved the job: I was unhindered by idiotic management, so I could organize my own efforts, resulting in superior products with less effort.

I was so happy with the job, that I planned to work my way into management. There was another benefit to working there, which solidified my decision: the nurses; they ranged from early 20s to late 40s, and almost all flirted with me – as did the rest of the female staff. I had great prospects of finding another longterm relationship, once my current one inevitably ended.

Unfortunately, the General Manager was an idiot. Due to his mismanagement, the establishment was at serious risk of closing down – which it did, shortly after my being fired. The cause of my termination was a co-worker getting himself fired: during his termination process, he accused me of getting in a physical fight with him – in a desperate attempt to save his job by any means.

No such thing happened. Infact, I got him bumped from dish washer to cook, did most of his training, constantly helped with his work, and we got along great; he was just young, and compulsively lied. During the time [I assume] he claimed the fight occurred, I was covering the end of his shift [at his request] while he slept in his car. Apparently, he was on the clock while sleeping.

Later, I was asked about the alleged fight and his sleeping in the car, admitted that there was no fight, and that I didn’t know about the sleeping; that seemed the end of it, and I went back to work as usual. The next day, I came in, saw the 3 managers [including my own] talking with whom appeared to be a lawyer. I was fired an hour later.

They attempted to convince me the firing was due to my behaviors, which I quickly disproved; afterwhich, I was told to wait outside while they rediscussed the situation. I was then told that I would not be black-balled from the company’s numerous other locations, and would be given an uncontested, full-ride on unemployment.

During this meeting, one of the three bosses wouldn’t look at me – constantly looking down in shame. When my next job called for a reference, they happened to get her; she told them I quit, rather than was fired; my new GM, whom talked to her, said she was trying to make me look good.

After the kangaroo court, my direct supervisor claimed he’d talk to other kitchen managers in the company, to find me a position; he never did that, of course. To his credit, despite him facilitating my termination, the letter of reference [I hounded out of him] did not clearly state I’d done anything wrong.

Amusingly, the day I was fired, on my drive to work, I realized how happy I was with tremendous relief – years of bad jobs had seriously worn me down, and I thought I could finally start relaxing. And, when I was going through the hiring process there, I told the bosses about my work history – how I’ve regularly been mistreated; they promised no such thing would happen there.

I was depressed for a few weeks after that, then I got my third kitchen job. I quit the third job after a month and a half however, as my boss was a self-serving imbecile, as was the sous; I preferred to avoid the betrayal and abuse common of their kind. It was another great opportunity ruined by idiots. Story of my life.

Later, after I left that short-lived, third kitchen job, I coincidentally did some training for my new repairmen job at that kitchen – which called my new employer to fix a machine. The cooks, servers, GM, and some of the other staff, welcomed me very warmly – while the worthless little man, who was my old boss, avoided me.

At about the same time, the Ex and I were separating; it had been coming for a year or so, which we consistently and openly discussed; we merely stayed together out of convenience and hope that things might work out. But, she had to move for school, and I had no reason to follow her; so, she left.

She cheated me out of a few hundred dollars in the process, denied sex in the last month or so of living together, and was uncooperative about getting a pregnancy test when her period was supposedly missed – I suspect she said this merely to fuck with me, as she turned out to not be pregnant.

Shortly after her leaving, my lease was ending. I started looking for a room in a houseshare. I found a decent place, but the dumb cunt that rented it strung me along for 3 weeks, before finally telling me I could rent from her; she changed her mind the next day, saying there were more requirements, then refused to accept me a week later, despite my jumping through her new hoops.

By this point, I’d started the repairmen job, and had to move out in 5 days. I talked to my boss, very apologetically requested those days off, then found and moved into a new place. It was a filthy shithole, with 9 rooms in total, occupied with scumbags and mentally unstable man-children, but was my only option given the very little time available, the requirement of two parking spaces for my car and company-vehicle, and my smoking [most renters find it impossible to believe that I would simply smoke outside].

I tried reaching out to family in the area [a great Aunt, and two Aunt, all separate from each other, with their individually established lives and longterm relationships], to buy me some time to find a better place, yet was replied to with denial, or completely ignored. Understandable: I’d never met one; another I’d only briefly been in the company of, once or twice when we were children; and the last one knew me, but hadn’t seen me since my early teens.

With the stain of my mother on me, and if they were familiar with my unproductive teens, wariness of me was perfectly understandable. However, the reason I can’t forgive their behavior, is that they made their assessments without even meeting me [I called or emailed, not wanting to be imposing, and being busy hunting for a place]. Hell, they could have talked to my other great Aunt and Uncle, whom my staying with benefited, and whom consistently witnessed me working my ass off, for free, helping people in need.

A great deal could have changed, if these women had chosen to do the right thing. But, men are scary, I know. Amusingly, my great Aunt realized I’d written her off, from observing my very polite refusals of all her later requests to interact. I can’t remember what she called me while trying to address the situation sidelong.. something about my handling the situation “nobly”. Very helpful.

Anyway, this series of unfortunate coincidences, and their result, is a perfect example of why I believe idiots, lunatics, and the immature, should be denied meaningful freedom until earned: one idiot, alone, can only do so much damage; but the collective selfishness and incompetence of billions occasionally makes problems.

It should be noted that the linked song is not sung by Samuel L. Jackson, as labeled therein.

Autobiography +



~ by Louis Naughtic on February 5, 2017.

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