Me vs. Hendrickson has begun.
I take the position of what everyone really wants to do. I refuse to be intimidated and silenced by him. He is the epitome of faceless corporations. He shows no emotion (besides anger), appreciates nothing, and criticizes everything. For the sake of keeping the conversation fresh in my mind, I’ll repeat it:
Me: anything left to do?
H: yes. Go clear out the cat food in the back with the cheerios on it.
Me: ok, and after that, am I done?
H: yes.
(do the stuff in the back)
Me: (walking to punch-out clock)
H: Brian, you and Sam go bag.
Me: you said I was done after doing the stuff in the back
H: No, you’re done at 3.
Me: Why did you say I could go after doing the stuff in the back?
H: You’re done at 3.
Me: You liar. (and I walk to the registers to bag)
H: Brian, come upstairs
Me: (upstairs) yes?
H: You can go.
Me: Really?
H: yeah, but if you go, don’t come back.
Me: What? You mean, like—
H: I don’t like what you did there.
Me: What?
H: You call me a fucking liar in front of everyone?
Me: I was just kidding.
H: I don’t care.
Me: You have to relax.
H: NO, I WON’T RELAX, AND YOU’D BETTER WATCH THAT ATTITUDE OR YOU’RE GONNA BE OUT OF HERE!
Me: Ok, whatever. (walk back downstairs)
Then, I bag for a while and tell 3 people what happened while the motherfucker paces back and forth, using all the intimidation techniques he can muster. He stares me down, he looks away with that perturbed fucking look on his face.
Needless to say, it was a long 15 minutes.
Then he pulls another trick. He goes in the line in which I’m bagging. I’m getting a little scared, but I refuse to let this jaded fuck intimidate me. So I show him he did not get to me. I start banging around on the counter and showing him that I am not broken.
Me: (while bagging his shit) Would you like your milk in a bag, sir?
H: (probably not realizing my sarcasm at the moment) Please
Me: Happy Easter!
Then 3 hits, I punch out and kind of give a random “see ya later” w/ him in earshot. Of course, he doesn’t respond and I leave, walking right by him at the exit w/out an exchange. I tear my shirt off (symbolism, possibly), get in my car and leave.
But the one thing that sucks. I let him get to me. I thought about it throughout the night, and I’m writing about it today. It helps a hell of a lot to get it out, but I’m a little scared of what’ll happen on account of it.
-train of thought stopped-
The biggest fear I have is how this will affect our working relationship. In the morning on Saturday, I’m gonna have to have quite a different approach than usual. I’ll just go in and say “hello, Mr. Hendrickson, still pissed off at me?” or something along those lines.
I don’t want to be a corporate shill and apologize even though I know I’m not wrong in this case, so I’m gonna have to get him to tolerate me by some other means. Either that, or quit or get fired. Because if there’s one thing I hate, it’s tension. I hate any kind of tension between anyone when I’m involved. And he’s a loose fucking cannon. The littlest thing (like calling him a liar in a joking manner) can set him off, and with his stubborn ways, he will keep this tension between us if I don’t offer an apology.
I hadn’t realized how comfortable I’ve become with this job though, between my courting Amy #2, my weekend conversations with Welker, and my friendship w/ Eric, I’d almost been looking forward to working when I was scheduled. But all that changed yesterday. I shouldn’t fear anyone or anything. Including tension. Tension is relative. It’s not a tangible thing that looms in the air, despite what I may have believed. If I don’t feel it, there’s none there, so I have to go in there expecting just what’ll happen. He won’t yell at me or even talk to me. It’ll be me asking what to do, and him telling me. That simple.
And if I’m gone after a couple of weeks, then it’s only a couple months until I’m out of this fucked up town FOREVER anyway. Ring the fucking bell. Round 2 begins on Saturday.
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