If you have ever read Wear Gloves and Protective Eyewear you may know that I like to talk a lot of shit. Or maybe I should say I talk about shit. Maybe you’ll remember We Have A Plunger Just In Case and Butt Plug Not Included. In the fine tradition of those great entries I bring you Would You Tell Your Boss?
I have an employee his name is Reyes. He is what we call an irrigator. His job responsibilities require that he work a lot by himself. We need to be able to trust him to keep busy and do an honest days work without much supervision. We have found that not to be the case with Reyes. He appears to be getting very little done, and what is done is done half-ass. (Half-ass would be a technical term we use in the golf business.)
I have made it known to Reyes that I’m not satisfied with his job performance. He said I had some sort of problem with him and complained to my new boss. Mistake. Now my boss holds him accountable for every minute he is on the golf course. Reyes is now freaked out that he is going to loose his job, he should be. He calls me and reports to me every little thing that he does. Things are better, but it has gotten a little extreme.
As I am driving to the clubhouse to get some lunch I come across Reyes driving back to the maintenance shop in a hurry. He pulls me over to talk.
Hey Tom I gotta go home.
What’s the matter?
I’ve got real bad diarrhea and I shit my pants.
REALLY. I shit in my underwear a couple of hours ago so I threw them away. Now I’ve shit in my pants....
Stop stop stop, enough, don’t get out of your seat. Just go home. Call me tomorrow if you can’t come in. I’m going to lunch now. (Yum.)
Later that day while I was washing my hands in the bathroom. As I threw away the paper towel I noticed a pair of underwear in the trashcan. I was curious, but not that curious.