Bitches Fearing Bitches

At the shipping depot, we have a boss that works directly for the depot named Alvin Ruttiger. Alvin is a massive asshole who likes to change up the rules and bitch people out that work under him whenever he feels like it. He also bitches out the security guard bosses, forcing them to quickly do what he wants or there’ll be hell to pay.

All these things don’t bother me. When I go to the shipping depot, I keep my head down, do my job, and barely say a word to anyone. It keeps me safe from any kind of bullshit that Alvin comes up with, and I pay him no mind. What does bother me, however, is the way everyone is so afraid of him. I hate walking into the job and have to sit through people coming into the guardhouse talking about what Alvin did today. Charles, my security supervisor, always says stupid shit like “Hey, let’s make sure we do our job today because Alvin has been on a warpath lately!” Or a shipping depot executive that works under Alvin will come in and say something like “Man, Alvin’s the boss so we have to do what he says. As long as he’s happy, I’m good!” The worst is when people come in and start trading stories about Alvin and how ruthless he can be. This is known as Bitch Talk, and my ego can take only so much of it before exploding. 

Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Alvin is nothing more than that tall lanky white kid that I would see get his ass kicked by thugs in junior high and high school. I can tell a bitch when I see one, and Alvin is a bitch. Take all the titles from a bitch and you get just that—a bitch. I treat everyone exactly the same at that job and my ego would never allow me to believe that anyone, especially a bitch like Alvin, deserves any better. Bitch Talk is designed to bring everyone down and create this pathetic state of fear that I want no part of. I can cope with the fact that I need the shipping depot to make money for retirement. I can cope with the fact that Alvin is the boss and I have to do what he says in accordance with the rules. But I refuse to be afraid of him or anyone like him, and feed into this ridiculous atmosphere where I have to do a dance whenever he comes in. I’m not saying to be rude to the guy, but I treat him like everyone else with no special preference. 

It's not just conversation about Alvin, by the way. They Bitch Talk about the weather, work, and anything that they can be afraid of. Whatever, let them keep their doomsday talk. Let these groveling mongrels live in fear and talk about Alvin like he’s the six hundred and sixty-sixth coming of the Almighty. Let them fear that they’ll lose their jobs and make annoying self-deprecating small talk whenever he walks in. I’ll do my job. I’ll treat everyone the same. I’ll keep my mouth shut. I’ll get paid. There’s no greater job security for the lowly security guard..

P.S.: When I’m ready to retire, I’m planning to get fired from the shipping depot. It’s the only way for me to not get tempted to come back for the money, but I’m doing it for personal reasons as well. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but it’ll allow me to vent all the frustration that I’ve had to put up with at that place.