Don’t Shoot The Messenger: Fears of a Hardcore Work Environment

6 Sep

As some of you know,
our crazy boss-man was recently hired by the owners about 1.5 months ago.
The fellow (I shall call him Barry!) has earned fear into the hearts of many who work here.
He’s got some issues:
Kidney stones – which he refuses to take meds for.
Instead of taking pain meds, he drinks vodka to self medicate.
At first he shamelessly drank small shots of vodka throughout the evening, in front of the staff.
Since we made him feel guilty, he hides bottles of vodka in his room.
It’s been reported to me by other staff members that he stays up for 3 days at a time.

He also rigged a trip wire across the entrance of his room – which is death to any ho in stripper heels.
Thus leaving some of us to wonder if he is on drugs of some kind.
I rarely see him eat, so this could be possible.

He seems to be quite the fire starter – sharing drama and his disdain for other employees,
in front of us girls, and in front of the other staff.

Once you get Barry angry, it’s hard to make him stop.
He goes on anger rampages where he will criticize everyone, and everything in sight.
I had to witness him chew out my little 18 year old buddy, right there in the kitchen,
about dirty hustling. But it really wasn’t dirty hustling that he was bitching at her about.
He was saying “If you’re going to act like a little girl, then I am going to treat you like one.”
So I said, “If you’re going to criticize my friend, can you please not do it in the kitchen, in front of everyone? This is our common area.”
So he got mad at me for asking him to bitch elsewhere.
He said, “I’ll fine you $100.00 if I hear another word from you.”
“But I’m pouring milk in my cereal.”
I said.
“That’s 100.” he replied.
“Can I at least eat it in here?”
“That’s 200.” he responded.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“That’s 300. You should leave the room now.”
“I’m going to call the owner.” I said.
“Well you’ll have to hold because she’s already on the phone with someone else.” He said.

So I waited. And I talked to her.
But the phone conversation wasn’t the end of it.

I heard from our security guard that he had let Barry borrow one of his small guns, for the day that he would not be there to protect everyone.
Of course, I can’t SEE if Barry has a gun or not in his clothing.
Our security guard wears a very prominent holster,
but if Barry had a gun, it would be hidden under his clothes – which look a lot like workout gear.

When I heard form our morning Cashier of how he must have waved the gun around
because he sent one of the girls running and screaming saying “ahhh he has a gun!”
She compelled me to write a letter.
After all, a couple days prior I had listened to a bunch of girls complain about the boss-man for at LEAST five hours.
This left me too drained to even want to work.

Our Cashier said, “you have been sent by God to be our voice – you’re an angel!”
After the send button had already been pushed…..when she said that,
to my horror, I reflected to about a year ago, when I started here,
and we were having trouble with the bartender/cook, who was also a working girl.
I sent in a letter about her also.
Unfortunately I did not remain anonymous. The gal found out.
I proceeded to get heckled and fear for my life (mildly) for two weeks straight.

Barry makes me fear for my life more though – he seems like the kind of guy who could snap on you without warning.
It was then that I called up the owner and begged her not to reveal that it was I who wrote the letter about Barry.
She said that under no circumstances would the identity of the letter writer be revealed, since I was but a messenger,
and the letter was from “everyone” and (apparently) I was not the only one who had written her letters or made phone calls
about Barry.

Either way, I did not want to be there upon Barry’s return.
I was aware of the day and time that he was going to get chewed out by the owners for his cruel behavior.
Not less than 24 hours after the chew-out should have happened,
I heard from the same morning Cashier that Barry had actually called one of the girls
asking him what happened, and who sent a letter.

Seeing that it is common knowledge who the resident geek (and letter writer) of the house is,
I figured I best make a swift escape and not be there when Barry returned,
and still had steam coming out of his ears.
Besides, I can’t keep anything secret.
When I heard all of the staff complaining over and over about weird shit that Barry was doing,
I’d had it!
I would tell them all, “A letter has been written, the issues are being resolved. The Kitchen table area is now a BARRY FREE ZONE! I don’t want to hear any more talk of him at this table!”

No matter how much I want to keep things secret, sometimes I just can’t, for the life of me.
I figure its better a person find out who did something, lose steam over a few days of my being gone,
and then upon my return, they can act accordingly.

Still, I hope he doesn’t shoot the messenger.

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One Response to “Don’t Shoot The Messenger: Fears of a Hardcore Work Environment”

  1. tanyathetgurl May 22, 2014 at 6:16 pm #

    Well handled, and it’s sobering to become aware of that phrase for once having a literal meaning.

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