Triggering memories
I just answered a post about employment, and this came floating up from memory.
I worked in the headquarters of a grocery chain, with the common hive of desks, and an equally common array of weird personalities.
Lester was one of those personalities. Mr. Negativity. He moaned and whined about everything. The weather, his wife, taxes…you name it. Most of us walked rapidly past him because we didn’t want to catch whatever he had.
Ronny was a small dapper man, with the potential to be a verbal bully. He mocked and laughed all the time.
One day Lester came back from lunch with a gravy stain on his tie. He was devastated by it. He yapped the rest of the day about it.
Almost quitting time when Ronny stepped up to a file cabinet with an industrial-sized paper cutter on it. He called to Lester to come over. “Come over here. You need to see this.”
After some back and forth, Lester went over.
Ronny grabbed the tie with the gravy stain and slid it under the blade of the paper cutter, and cut off the end with the stain.
“There. Now your tie doesn’t have a stain. Wear a BIB, man!”
Ah, the good ol’ days.
I worked in the headquarters of a grocery chain, with the common hive of desks, and an equally common array of weird personalities.
Lester was one of those personalities. Mr. Negativity. He moaned and whined about everything. The weather, his wife, taxes…you name it. Most of us walked rapidly past him because we didn’t want to catch whatever he had.
Ronny was a small dapper man, with the potential to be a verbal bully. He mocked and laughed all the time.
One day Lester came back from lunch with a gravy stain on his tie. He was devastated by it. He yapped the rest of the day about it.
Almost quitting time when Ronny stepped up to a file cabinet with an industrial-sized paper cutter on it. He called to Lester to come over. “Come over here. You need to see this.”
After some back and forth, Lester went over.
Ronny grabbed the tie with the gravy stain and slid it under the blade of the paper cutter, and cut off the end with the stain.
“There. Now your tie doesn’t have a stain. Wear a BIB, man!”
Ah, the good ol’ days.
