"Philled To the Brim"- 8/19/04

Welcome to a new, occasional feature called "Philled To The Brim". This will be the equivalent to a "What's Bugging You?", or to put it into layman's terms, a bitching session. Let us all be real real, we all need to turn off the kettle when the whistle starts to blow, especially if you are a postal worker or drive in either California or my home state of New Jersey.

Disclaimer: If I piss off any one, too bad, because you should not have done it in the first place. This is your one and ONLY warning!

In this initial installment, I will rile off some random anger on the following subject matter- "Why I Tend To Hate People". The source of this is taken from an e-mail that I sent to my loving girlfriend, Ashley.

I really tend to hate people more as I get older. I am not saying that every one of them is bad, but it seems that real good ones are really hard to find these days, just like a very good friend. If you were here with me at this moment, you may say that I look like Jack Nicholson from "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest"- I am really that hot right now. To those who really know me, they would probably have others steer clear away from me. (Yes, I do have a "look" when I am really mad. The best way to describe it is a "Dirty Harry" facial _expression. My dark brown eyes do not help out, either. People find me to be intimidating. My American Indian genes, I guess.) Enough of this tangent.

To all of those spineless maggots who can't shit or get off the pot on their own, here is a lesson of real life- Not every one is nice, not every one is going to like you, so stop fucking worrying about why they don't like you and/or what you may have done to cause such a time-wasting, fruitless conclusion. Perfect example- Islamic fruit loops called The Taliban. They perverse their very own religion worse than Governor McGreevey's double life, all to shield their own hatred towards those who don't bow down to their so-called worthiness.

Why am I ranting, you ask? Hang in there. Before I left my second job, the third shift supervisor told me that it looks as if I am not going to get reimbursed $21.25 for filling up the company car last Saturday. If that is the final decision, I will not just let it go, roll over, and play dead. I will voice my displeasure to my supervisor.

Last Saturday, I hopped into the company car to do the yard inventory, a task that we usually do on a daily basis. When I hopped into it, it was virtually on empty. I took it to the nearest gas station, which is 1.5 miles away. I filled it up to the amount listed above, and paid for it with cash out of my pocket. I know that they do have a company gas card, but only Security is there on the weekends, and I do not know where it is kept exactly. Besides, I have no business going into places that I need not be when no one else is really there. I obtained a receipt from the cashier, and documented that I paid cash out of my pocket, initialed and dated it, then notified the incoming shift supervisor.
It was taken to the Corporate Office on Monday, and everything seemed okay, at first. On Tuesday, Scott, my shift supervisor, showed me a photocopy of two receipts- one from 8/10 @ 1608, and one from 8/11, early afternoon. For the record, the company car was not on company property on 8/10. It was in the shop for repairs. A member from Security fueled the company car on 8/11, we know that for a fact. Unfortunately, the receipt from 8/10 is still a mystery. There were only three people in the building at that time- all three Security, and none had access to the company card. As a result of one "abusing the privelage" , I may get screwed for doing the right thing, and doing everything properly as far as passing the receipt along. I personally hope that whomever did do it can explain themself, because I am getting BOHICA'd. If they did use it for personal use, they can be terminated immediately.

I could pass a couple more stories along, but I need to get some rest. Chances are the mystery person is sleeping just fine, figuring that nothing will happen. Count the sheep, whomever it may be.
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I am certain to expand on this subject at a later time. This column will appear on a freelance basis.