Charles A. Mackenzie (cleanhead42) wrote,
Charles A. Mackenzie

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My Time at DBC Part Two "Living in a minefield"

As time went on, his criticisms of my work and snipes at me become more frequent. At first, he would go on how I need to learn to organize myself. I will concede that my organizational skills do leave a little bit to be desired. At first, I tried to rationalize that he just pushing me to do better. However, it seemed no matter how hard I tried or how well I did my job, nothing I did was good enough in his eyes. There were a few times he praised my work. He would look for things to to criticize me for (e.g. that my hands shook when I was nervous).

When business was slow, he would get on my case for fidgeting and walking about. When business picked up,he would put the pressure on me with an exaggerated sense of urgency.

I had to remind myself that his only claim of authority over me was seniority. Once, when he was particularly angry at me, he told of all the times he had covered up my mistakes for me (may or may not be true). It seems in his mind that I owed him fealty. I thought screw that. I did not ask for his protection.

In November, someone in shipping and receiving quit (probably fed up with working with control freaks but that's another story). So my co-worker had to take his place. This meant leaving me in charge of his little kingdom. This did not sit well with him and he let me know in no uncertain terms. Needless to say, this increased tensions between us. He continued to try to micro-manage me from a distance. At this point, almost every day he would go on at me as to what I was doing wrong. Sometimes he would sit down and stare at me as if waiting for me to screw up. There were times when he would point out my mistakes while I was in the process of correcting them. Sometimes he give me a look that said "what did you screw up this time?".It became necessary for me to correct my mistakes on the sly.

It became clear to me that this is a guy who likes power. When he honked the horn on the forklift, he reminded me of the Robert Crumb character Ruff Tuff Cream Puff. I did not like to admit to myself that I was afraid of him. He was over six feet tall, heavy set and had a gruff manner. He had all the tact of a prison guard. His behavior toward me triggered a bunch of old stuff in me, such as memories of being tormented and threatened by bullies as a youth. When I wanted to stand up for myself (e.g. tell him that what I wrote down in my log book was none of his business), something in me would get triggered and my larynx would freeze up and/or I would "blank out". I had to settle for saying "fuck you" or "go take up coprophagia" under my breath.

There some people that I just rub the wrong way. There's not a damn thing I can do about it and nor do I care to. I am content to avoid such people where ever possible. Sometimes in the workplace, it can be a little bit more difficult to do so.

To be continued....
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