The Dog Days

August 7, 2007

   August here is hot.  That cloying, funky,  sort of hot that gets into your head.  It takes a toll on your facuities, and limits your ability to act rationally.    Add in the difficulty of working in a foundry in this heat, and you have all kinds of hardheaded people working just this side of the line between sanity, and incomprehensible rage mullets.

    I was screamed at today at work by a supervisor.  Actually by an assistant plant manager.  He spent several minutes berating me for not doing what he wished for me to do.  When he finished, in the calmest voice I could muster in my “i -need-to- choke-you” state I explained that there was no way I could have done what he wished because it had been raining when I arrived at work.

   Shit for brains then said ”  I don’t care if there was a blizzard.  You should have done what I told you to do.”



So I replied   “fair enough, next time we have a blizzard in August, the short fat stupid guy shall get his wish.”

As I understand it,  there was some lighthearted discussion about my termination while the short fat stupid guy was in the room, and then general agreement that I must not be feeling well because that was an incredibly mild thing for me to have said after he left.

Either way, I’m still employed, and the short fat stupid guy is unhappy.

It will be hotter tomorrow.

and the day after that