PO'd

I've told a few tales about previous places of employment here on this blog. There were The Feedstore Chronicles which I am now turning into a memoir. The were the stories about my stint as a shopping mall Santa. A few more about my days as a high school football reeree..

But I've not written much about my adventures at current and longest lasting employer, The United States Postal Service. I'm a big believer in that old saying, You don't crap where you eat but given that I don't have another topic in mind and this story is not derogatory in nature I feel safe in telling it.

This may come as a shock to y'all but I can be a bit of a smart ass when need be, and around the Ol' PO that need often arises. Here is my favorite tale illustrating that point.

Once was the time when I bought a newspaper every morning before work. Given the fact that the Amarillo Paper is small I would fold up the pages and carry the paper in the back pocket. Of course the paper would stick out a good bit as it resembled a flattened tube.

Being that I was in the maintenance department and not the sortation or delivery side my job comes with a certain amount of ... shall we say downtime. We are Gov't workers you see and it wouldn't do to injure ourselves by running from one project to the next.

At this particular point of my postal career, my immediate supervisor was a guy I'll call Slick Willie. Now Slick Willie fancied himself as a the end all be all of the male species. A ladies man extraordinaire. In his mind he put the cock in cock a doodle dandy. Never mind the fact he wore polyester suits and had a pompadour hair-do three decades out of fashion.

Slick Willie liked to make himself feel important by asserting his position of power of his minions, me included. Sure he was the boss, but given the strength of our union and the built in checks and balances, he didn't have near the power or control that he thought he possessed.

Nevertheless one day Slick Willie summonsed me to his office for an official reprimand. The following is our conversation up to the point he threw me out of his office.

Slick Willie -- Travis, you need to stop carrying that paper in your back pocket.
Me -- Why?
Slick Willie -- It looks bad. It looks like you are going to read it.
Me -- I am going to read it. Why else would I buy a copy every morning?
Slick Willie -- No, I mean it looks like you are always going to break. Like you are going to read it right now.
Me -- What about all the smokers. They carry their cigarettes with them. Does it look like they are going to break?
Slick Willie -- Kenny (Kenny was the Slick Willie's boss. The Maintenance Manager) smokes so I can't say anything about that.
Me- So you can't get after the smokers for carrying the cigarettes because Kenny smokes, but you are chastising me for carrying me paper?

Slick Willie leaned back in his chair and smugly nodded.
Me -- What? Kenny can't read.

That's when Slick Willie threw me out of his office, but he never said another word about the folded up paper in my back pocket.