Mutiny for the bounty.
Sunday, 8 April 2007
A so-so night work-wise with nothing much happening really; I spent nearly seven hours of it down the bar at the lower end of the park and while it was busy it was uneventful.
However, there was gossip to be had, and it came with a barbed tongue.
Seems like while I was away one or two things happened, and most of it seemed to revolve around team concerns with the most senior member of our group. That's senior in experience, not years. We'll call him Jack. He's been working here for a couple of years and while I respect that he's done his dues and doesn't really want to concern himself with the bullshit, there's a big difference between that and doing as much as you can to keep yourself away from the nitty-gritty. In this job you're only as strong as the weakest link in your chain, and while he may not necessarily be it per se, he does enough of this little annoying things to cause ripples. Yesterday, by all accounts, Jabba was involved in quite a serious situation and Jack didn't turn up to assist. Now, there's a pretty blatantly fucking obvious code in this job and that is if you actually want to fucking do it, then want to fucking do it. It's easy to showboat and say you're a doorman and then conveniently not actually be there when there's something brewing. We'd heard a few rumours involving Jack's absenteeism from others but benefit of the doubt and all that; one of the main problems with this job, and this firm, is everything seems to be somebody's version. At least be decent enough to provide somebody with enough rope.
Well, we've been doing that, and folk aren't happy. Jabba was seriously pissed, as was another chap who we'll call Bilbo. Both took their concerns to our boss but Bilbo mistakenly opening the case with, "You're risking a mutiny..." to which the boss basically replied, "Well, you know where the door is." Now Jabba's even more pissed. Bilbo's fuming to the extent that he's offering people jobs in another complex at double the money, but that stinks so bad that even the flies are suspicious.
But then the plot thickens. You see, Jack is a gentleman of colour. This is of no concern to me but last year there was, it seems, another black fellow on the doors and he became involved in an incident where our boss was accused of racism. Now, by all accounts those accusations were unfounded, but the event went on record nonetheless. Now, my firm and particularly my boss seem to be shatting themselves at the possibility of that kind of name-calling resurfacing, and hence turning a massive blind eye to anything involving Captain Jack.
Or... that may be just your typical B.S. that always seems to circulate whenever anybody is looking for an excuse.
Still, Jabban's hinting about leaving and all I can think about is, "Fuck. That basically just leaves me on the doors on Saturday."
i.e., I'll be dead in a month.
The problem is that quite frankly we're not paid enough to put ourselves in a position of genuine risk, but we're expected to do so. Without going too OTT in this job you could die. It's unlikely, but it can and does happen from time to time. And so if you're taking on that kind of risk, albeit one that only crops up from time to time, you expect to have back-up and you damn well fucking expect support. Right now, we have none of that.
Incidentally, last week I arrived at work after everybody else was there. They were having a meeting with the boss and when I walked in Bilbo told us about a situation that had occurred the previous night. A guest had come up to him and said, "Yeah, I was talking to your boss earlier...", to which Bilbo responded that they couldn't have been as it was the boss' day off.
"No, no... earlier, up in the main bar..."
Bilbo asked the guest to describe him, to which he said, "You know, stocky guy, a bit shorter than you, unshaven..." etc etc.
Well, it turned out that he was describing me. We all had a laugh about it and then I said to my actual boss, "Yeah, I am in charge, aren't I?" I think this might have backfired as I've been given the cold shoulder even since.
However, walking away, it suddenly hit me. I was gutted. And here's why. Bilbo is about 5ft5. I couldn't give a crap that somebody thought I was made of boss-like material. All I could think about was:
"How could they think he was taller than me!?"
posted by Sheamus @ 4:07 am
