we all know it’s coming, like a huge ship sliding out of control it’s gonna swamp us. I watch them back peddle, kiss up, save their own arses and the arses of their sons. Save the company for the promised ones. While we take the only road we know, we work. Head down arse up mouth shut like good little lambs. The back peddlers point the finger at us, our fault, no one likes us anyways, the most unpopular crew out there. tried and convicted before our boss even woke up and saw the ship was out of control. He acted like head down arse up was save us, cos it’s how he was taught to be. It’s all he knows, work hard some one will notice, some one will care right? I know better, as I sit in the office the first of twenty five, they got me up there to be the very first. I take joy in being paid to not come to work anymore. In turning up every fucking day watching my boss take shit and eat it from every one. I take on as much as I can plus all the shit they throw at me, and I shut my mouth and work.
In the end they couldn’t break me the company paid me to go away, I tell the fuckhead in the suit this is how it is, that he’ll still be laying people off while I’m about to be off the planet with a head full of class A, that his company paid for. I look at him and wonder if the revolution ever actually comes one day could I put this man against a wall and shoot him?
He expects the class A drugs, but I’m far from chipping out today I just don’t care about a fucking wage slave enough to give up pieces of my soul for these bastards. I tell him I’ll be wasted cos it pisses him off. Try as he might he couldn’t fire me, I gave him plenty of reasons but none off them would stick. I feel bad for this man.
He’s a capitalist, trained to believe company’s should always grow and expand, take on new staff, get new contracts. Company’s are not meant to retract, lay off good staff so nepotists can save spaces for average staff. He’s worked hard to reach the top a few years in a top job and he has to turn around and lay off good staff shrink his company and be told by twenty five people what a fuckwit he is. I give a morally justifiable reason to hate just one those people, the first one he laid off, I hope it sustains him through his day.
As I stand watching my old crew, at least what’s left of it, me and my mate take assessment. They’re staying, we’re going, my boss is trying tell us he should be gone we should stay, we followed him and he losses his crew but gets shunted sideways while we take the hit. My mate is pissed, I’m in shock is that I forsaw this joke I made about five days ago, not such a smart arse now are you Colin? Or that my boss actually believed what he was doing was going to help.
They asked for suggestions, we were the ones the workers suggested should be laid off. I knew the pricks hated me they showed it often enough, I’m shocked the three guys who’re staying are surprised how how it went down. More so they have to come to work knowing the rest of the place wanted them punished and got their mate’s booted out. I get off easy, cos I can live of the smell of an oily rag, yet my mate . . . um . . . yeah he just lost his job we won’t fuck with him right now.
Three days on I remember a day, stinking hot like the weather is now, twenty sevens tonnes of hot sticky ashplat wheelbarrowed, laid, compacted. Five guys working like dogs heat, sweat, slipping over each other burning each with hot rakes or running over each other with wheel barrow wheels sometimes accidental some times on purpose just to fuck with each other. We’re standing at the end of one hell of a hard days work and seeing in front of us a completed footpath. That thing in the back of my throat, that’s fucking pride and they can take the rest the but that I’m keeping the pride son.
