It’s a beautiful and crisp winter’s morning in Sunny Witbank
in mid May 2010. With sub-zero temperatures, sleet carrying winds, frost bitten
ears and teeth so cold that plaque doesn’t grow I headed out from my parents’
house and into my Alfa at 06:00am. Yes, Witbank Winter is indescribably unpleasant
but that didn’t get me down. It’s a beautiful day because I finally got a job
again…Hmm…Why is my Director calling me? This can’t be good…
It’s been 8 months since I got back from Dubai. I gave my entrepreneurial
skills a go with a good friends business but all I really ended up doing was
spending his money and supporting the local petrol stations. I have always had
an entrepreneurial mind but never really had the management skills to make any
of those ideas stick. Anyways, my mate floated me for 8 months until I got this
job with a large, reputable construction company.
First day on the job (after the initial, second and third
interviews with various levels of management) I am sent to a section of
pipeline in the Bronkhorstspruit area. I pull into the site offices nice and
early and get acquainted with the set up. Meet up with my Section manager, a
guy by the name of Paul, and we get the usual introductory stuff out the way.
09:00 we hop into his bakkie and head to site so I may see what we are building
and how we are meant to be building it. Along the way we come across a few team
supervisors, a Client Agent and a number of small valve chamber sites teams.
Things are going along well.
10:00 we bump into a guy called Jonny. Jonny and Paul share
stories about “how mad last night was” and “how much I am still hanging” and so
on. I am sitting there thinking “Hmm, nice guys. Beer drinkers. Pool players. I
should be just fine”. After a short excited little conversation Jonny says:
“How about some breakfast?” and they both look at me (the intruder) with
judgement. “Sure, I could do with a breakfast” I said and so we drove off, up
the road, away from site for 20km or so and pulled into a little rustic style
roadhouse. Got out the bakkie and headed inside.
Its not a rustic breakfast spot for retired people, it’s a shabeen.
Proper hole-in-the-wall type place with black painted walls, flickering neon
fridge lights from the 80’s and that unmistakable smell of someone who had a
fight with tequila and lost. Paul walks up the bar and orders three double
brandy and cokes. Three of them. I just stood there frozen in a puddle of
stress. Alcohol? At 10:30 am? On my first day at work? Surely I can get fired
for this? I can’t get fired – I have been struggling so badly to find work…but
I am in now… I have crossed the Rubicon…its go time.
We left that bar at 15:00 in the afternoon. As much as I
enjoyed the brandies is as much as I was kakking myself that somebody was going
to walk in and just fire all of us. But – is this how it works? Is this
acceptable? Maybe it is? Maybe this is construction here in this country? Maybe
on a quiet day the guys have a drink or two? Paul offered for me to join them
for a pool competition that evening with the locals. Pool? I dig pool – sure
thing that sounds great right? Ted (my Guardian Angel) took control of my mouth
and said “No, not tonight. I should just get home”. Paul dropped me off at my
car and told me just to head home. Pickled.
So its 06:00 the next morning, slightly hung over but happy
as a pig in poo. I got a job… for now. My Director, the guy who put his neck
out to hire me, is on the other side of the phone call and he is less than
pleased. In a dark and anger-restraining voice he says “Doug, were you with
Paul yesterday? Actually, don’t answer that now… I want you in my office in 2
hours”. I am so fired. I got no money and everything I have has been lent to me
by my parents. I’m going to get fired. I get fired I will become that old guy
that lives with his parents and stalks young girls while eating cheese curls in
my panel van parked outside the arcade.
I stressed my ass off. Got to my Directors office and he sat
me down. This guy has a powerful way of dealing with people. His trick is just
to keep quite. He will sit there and not say a word. His eyes will roll from
the notes on his desk; he will scribble words down like “dismissal” and
“influence” and then look back up and around the room. Dead silent. Then he
grabs the Disciplinary code on the desk, flicks through that, scribbles a bit
more. Makes brief eye contact – the eyes of shame and betrayal. That silence
makes you want to burst out. Just explode with reams of truth and rat out all your
colleagues and just run away. Thank the Pope I ate a lot of bran this morning,
my but hole is nipping here.
“Paul has been dismissed with immediate effect as of this
morning” he says. He lets that sentence ly. It echoes softly off the walls so
that it hits my ears more than once… My heart moves from my throat down to my
stomach. “Were you with him yesterday?” Yes I was… “Ok, did he take you around site in
the morning?” Yes, yes he did…”Ok. Now, (moment
of silence) did you go out with his last night?” Wait – What? – Last night?
My chest flurried up with warmth, here is my shot, I don’t have to lie, just
not tell the whole truth…He didn’t ask about the hours between…”No, I was not
with him yesterday evening. Why do you ask?”
Turns out Paul got sozzled. Rocked up at work the next
morning directly from the pool hall at our Head Office and started a small
shabeen style party in the parking lot. He pumped his music and danced with the
cleaning staff. Did a burnout on the stones and told the Client Project Manager
where to stick it. And stick it he did – Paul was dismissed in a record
breaking 45 minutes. Didn’t even make tea time.
“So now,” Mr Director says: “Now what do we do? I don’t have
a manager for the Bronkhorstspruit section”. I took a shot: “Well, what about
me? I will float the boat for now until you source a suitable replacement?” I
said to him. 48 hours from signing my contract as the Junior of Juniors I was
handed a double cab Isuzu, a HP laptop, R1000 cell phone allowance, meal
vouchers, BnB vouchers and a team of guys.
Now that is how Ted works his magic. He did just enough to
sink poor Paul and just enough to keep me out of trouble. What a legend.
No comments:
Post a Comment