Tyler Durden didn’t have this problem…
It would seem ignorant to believe that we are our true selves at work. But for a while, I admit it, I actually thought that was the case. In my case, the person that came to work was the same person that came home. Yes, I see the error in my ways now but for the longest time (my whole working life) I was myself at work. This would explain why I was never liked, respected, tolerated and sometimes hated by co-workers. I was myself day in and day out. This in itself taught me one of the most valuable lessons in life.
What I’ve learned from MY past work experiences (BASED ON ACTUAL EVENTS):
- Smoking weed in the freezer in the morning at Domino’s Pizza, although more effective and motivating than coffee, is frowned upon.
- Destroying office filing cabinets over the weekend and lying about it by saying the cleaning crew did it, is not the best of ideas.
- Locking up and going home to get drunk at 6pm from Subway, only to come back to run end of day paperwork for 10 minutes and leave again to finish that 40oz of Old English I started…yes, this will get you fired.
- (Most important lesson of all) By performing these previously mentioned actions, employers believe that you’re just incredibly stupid and disrespectful. In turn, since this is America and America forgives stupidity, employers are a little more forgiving. Don’t believe me? I quit working at Domino’s because I found another job. I was not fired. I was fired from the office with the broken filing cabinets because of lack of attendance and when I was there, I didn’t do any work. And as for Subway, I was caught doing this twice and was given multiple warnings and promised not to do it again before I got fired.
Why is the American Workplace like this? I honestly couldn’t tell you. I only know the end result and that, once again, people forgive the nincompoops, buffoons and socially retarded souls and are always willing to give them another chance. Since that realization, I have applied this logic to all employment.
Example:
Now I check into the pharmacy I work at just savvy enough to process prescriptions and smile. I smile, as a dog that just shit the carpet and forgot about it that’s about to get hit with a newspaper, foolishly.
Yesterday the pharmacist, who I actually enjoy working with, told me I was doing a great job…believe me, no one was more surprised to hear this than me. He then told me I needed to focus more. He said when I start on something, I need to finish it before moving on to the next thing. I nodded and then asked for a hug…why, because it’s what I do.
We are NOT who we are at work. We put on a show from 8 to 5 to keep our jobs, fit in, and if you’re smart enough, fool others into doing your work because they think you’re stupid. Stupid people do less work. I guess this makes me smart and lazy. But aren’t all geniuses lazy?
Though it may not seem like the Super Awesome Dave you have come to know, I assure you, it’s still me. But now, I’m just a little wiser to the way things work in the real world. It’s like I found a Game Genie to America’s Workforce.
That’s how I get my rocks off at work now. I’m pretty sure this is in no way considered self improvement, but I never said I was trying to be a better person.
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January 18, 2012
2012…the year of the nerd.
We have hardly tapped into January and I’ve already lined up a trip to Texas in May, another to Philadelphia in June and one more to Baltimore in September. All of these previously mentioned dates and locations are for comic book conventions. I’ve been attending conventions for over 5 years now and have enjoyed every single one.
In the past, it was more about the comic books…then people like Bruce Campbell and William Shatner started attending the lesser known conventions around the country and the attractions’ interest ratios shifted. To some it may sound like Japanese as I explain the appeal that is a comic convention and the ratio shifts. Think of it this way; you loved going to Asian bathhouses and then a Swedish bathhouse opened up right next door. Happy endings need no translation.
I could see how the plans of 2012 may sound a little sad, but this is the perfect time to stand in line with friends, catch up on what’s going on in their lives and share a few laughs. But the best part of Texas Comic Cons is that we all get hammered after.
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January 11, 2012
She will look back and say, “Hey, my dad wasn't the asshole everyone said he was.”
Autumn, which overstayed its welcome into 2012, bid its fond farewell Monday and winter rolled into the East coast in the form of a small snow flurry. I go back to my childhood and only remember a handful of times playing in snow. Texas didn’t take too kindly to Old Man Winter and to be honest, I never did mind it too much. Snow didn’t show me what I had been missing until my most recent years. Catonsville, MD showed me snow was its own animal and it demanded respect. After it locked me in my apartment in 2009 for 3 days, it earned my respect. Since then, the snow here has been moderate and enjoyable.
I remember last year, I was back in Texas and it had snowed and iced over. My father and I had our first snowball fight. I know that years from now I will be able to look back on that day and realize my father and I did, in fact, share a Hallmark moment – a change from the Arkham lifestyle that could be traced all the way back to 1990. My father got a few good shots in as did I. I’m actually realizing right now that the first 6 months of 2011 I spent in Texas to regroup in order to return to Maryland, I became closer to and got to know my father better than I had in the 30 years prior. This is how I’d like my daughter to remember me when my balls are older, my dreams of being a professional javelin chunker in the Olympics have been released into obscurity and my bowel movements drop out of me like instant gray petrified dog turds.
It was 5 pm Monday and quite the bit of snow had collected on the cars in the parking lot of my shitty, run-down apartment. Abby decided it was time to gear up and embrace the frozen cloud dust that had settled. I was invited. What kind of father would I be if I wasn’t to join her? I told her that we would be outside for ONLY 5 minutes. I was convinced at the time that I was going to stick to the set timeframe as I didn’t want to actually play with the snow. I may sound like a dick here, but it’s the truth. I didn’t want to get wet.
Within 30 seconds of being outside Abby catapulted a snowball at me. Within 5 minutes of being outside, half of the cars had been cleared of snow. I thought briefly about how this is going to make for one particularly warm memory for her. She would throw a snowball and miss, and I would throw one back gently and miss on purpose. She threw a couple that landed and so I tried to do the same, but kept missing her. Make no mistake; she brought it to my attention that I was missing too. Until the perfect pitch was released from my hand 20 yards away and hit her square in the face.
There was a pause…a look of shock overwhelmed her. The smile had been decimated with one throw. Was I not to laugh? Would it ruin the warm memory previously mentioned? Was this the newly set foundation to an untrusting home between father and daughter? Fuck it! I laughed. I laughed so hard and most of the snow fell off her face leaving just enough to cake her glasses. Holy shit, I laughed for 20 minutes after that. Hell, I’m laughing as I write this!
So she didn’t find it as funny as I did. Oh well. Will this be a bookmarked memory years down the road? I’m guessing not. But I see it this way – this is just like the wonderful memory I had with my father last winter. This wasn’t as much a memory for her as it was for me.
Some people at work joked that this could be considered “abuse.” I call it retribution. I love my daughter, but sometimes she can be a real asshole. She has gotten away with murderous attitudes and episodes in the past! She may not have had this coming Monday in the early evening, but she definitely had it coming Monday night when she refused to brush her teeth. She had me wishing I had brought a snowball from outside in case of emergency. Nothing has a better payoff than seeing your offspring’s face when you've nailed her right in her smug fucking face with Mother Nature’s frozen baseballs. I’d be bold enough to wager that Tim Tebow didn't feel this good even after last week’s overtime 80-something yard touchdown pass.
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January 4, 2012
This apartment needs a Champagne Panic Room…
The other night while Katie and I were performing coitus (coitus is a fancy word for fucking), as with anything else, we were coming to an end. With climax imminent, standard protocol in this situation is to notify your partner that the party is going to end…well, that’s my protocol. I don’t know what your protocol is, nor do I care. This isn’t about YOU!
Anyway, right as I was letting her know, a heavy hand covered my mouth and I was shushed. At first I thought it was a new kinky act she was trying out. I thought that this was the birth of something new. To what outlandish sexual plains were we to climb from here? I imagined myself in a black leather body suit and her dressed as Bruce Campbell from Army of Darkness and we would have a special safe word in case it went too far.
Unfortunately, this was not the case.
Katie, with her hand over my mouth, was looking towards the door as if she had heard something. I realized at that point why I was shushed. My daughter was with us that night and has a tendency to come into our room at random hours of the night. I frowned knowing that tonight, this would not be a docking station for the Kinky Shuttle. No, tonight would be Holocaust sex. I was Anne Frank and my daughter was the sex Gestapo.
After the false alarm, there was no need to inform her I had finished.
The following night we were kid-free and at it again. That night, when I finished, I let her know by yelling it…twice.
