My moment of tranquility—if there is such an event (we’re told to never let our guard down, never)—had been inevitably interrupted. I had convinced an officer to unlock the door to the school principal’s office, a sacred place away from convicts; somewhere I could put my feet up and contemplate my significance in the greater scheme of the Michigan Department of Corrections. Peacefully seated in the Big Kaahoonah’s chair, the muffled sounds of Mutha-this and Mutha-that a distant memory, and the phone, that damned phone, ringing before the air left the cushion.
What? Did they see me on surveillance camera? Were they questioning my separation from the troops? Reluctantly, I picked up the receiver. “School Office. JR speaking.”
“You haven’t been punching in!” It was the Assistant Deputy Warden, his accusation flowing like tap water. I could imagine him with his rubberized thimble perusing the time-clock printouts. “Last Wednesday and Thursday you didn’t punch in.”
“I was sick,” I said.
“Well what about the previous week? You didn’t punch in at all.”
I wanted to slam the receiver back onto its cradle. I knew better. “I was in Traverse City for an Adult Education Conference.”
“Did you have prior approval?” He asked.
“What do you think?” I challenged. He decided he wanted to speak to my boss. “She’s not here,” I added.
Here we go again. Rule Number One: assume your employees are no better than the prisoners. Convoluted Interpretation: Dishonesty runs rampant in this department because the employees learn deviant behavior from the inmates.
He never questioned why I cancelled classes for the day. I guess it doesn’t matter, as long as I punch in ... and ... out.
11 comments:
Wow...How asinine. You really make me LOVE my little, library job!
...and as with all time clocks that one is your jailer and parole board...
Peace
Right on ;->
Crazy stuff. Punch the clock for me once, would you? -- right in the nose.
Which begs the question - how do these so-called "superiors" manage to attain such positions of authority?
You think that they'd be happy to not have to pay you...
Too bad you can't exchange punch "in" for punch "him."
(From MAD Magazine #2, c. l955):
The story of Melvin Mole, a Man out of Control:
"You slippery little rat," his keeper grates with some admiration.
"You've dug your last hole, Mole!
"We're putting you into solitary condinement!"
...Oh how we can relate to Dostoevsky's Underground Man."
Feeling a bit oppressed Bunky?
I've always felt a bit like that as a marginal employee for the Toronto Star.
Go, find another job, Now, STAT!!!
I know, it's easier said then done. Stay safe and well!!!
Reminds me of when I worked at the State Dept of Ed. Every minute had to be accounted for. But there were employees who knew how to sneak around the system and be dishonest. Then those of us who were innocent were always interrogated and questioned. It was crazy and nerve racking. Enough to drive you nuts.
Donnetta
Hmmm... must be challenging. I'd have a tough time being patient and polite if I was forced to deal with an enviroment such as that.
This is so typical. People get really bent out of shape over stupid, trivial shit and find petty ways to assert power. Proves how unhappy most people are and how they cling to a Kafkaesque version of life. I agree with Charles -- you should have been able to punch him.
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