Chase

Through the dreary rain-soaked city the autobus pummeled. Exhaust steaming behind, engines roaring to an extreme; the bus traveled many times faster than the posted speed limit. Passengers on board clawed the restraining bars for dear existence. The driver turn his gaze this way in that in spastic rhythms, suffering seemingly from some unknown spasm. The bus tires squealed in excitement, sending the bus’s back end fishtailing across the intersections. Traffic was at a bare minimum. Here and there cars were parked in the most ridiculous ways. The inhabitants of the city did not care about traffic laws. So destination unknown, the autobus scrambled across the gloomy metropolis, going nowhere, running from alien powers high in the sky.

Controversy In The Making

A friend recently pointed out that I had left out a fundamental belief. I shall now state it:

n) There exists the establishment that Biblical Scripture is infallible, inerrant, God-breathed.

n+1) There exists some integer n such that there exists some statement numbered n+1.

In other words, there will always be additions to this list. Faresmell.

The Beliefs of Gristhkeg

1) There exists a natural depravity in the race of Man (politically incorrect).
2) There exists only one resolution to this despondency: faith in the work of the crucifixion of Christ.
3) There exists a pattern, a continuous force working behind the scenes of life I can only explain by Determinism.
4) There exists a judgment for sin, before and after salvation.
5) There exists a need in my soul for the intervention of God to exist any good in my life.
6) There exists no sin (i.e. murder) that is worse than another.
7) There exists one sin, pride (self-seeking, needing not God), which encompasses all sins.
8) There exists equal wrongness for sex with a married partner for erotic satisfaction and for masturbation.
9) There exists a God-ordained structure of marriage defined only by a man and a woman.
10) There exists some President Bush who in many ways represents a reasonable Christian, striving to live for God.
11) There exists the establishment that Christians are as smart as atheists.
12) There exists the Law of Noncontradiction such that one must use either the Law of Noncontradiction or nothing else.
13) There exists the establishment that Philosophy is subject to Theology.
14) There exists the One True Chemist, namely Owen.
15) There exist two crapfaces, namely Dendall and Neil.
16) There exist other beliefs of mine which have not made it into this list.

Anti United Parcel Service Agreement

October. Early in the month.

Frustrated at the lack of money and my dwindled assets, I apply to UPS. I am accepted, trained, and thrown into the “Smalls”, the Small-Sort for small packages. I felt belittled. Did they think me not physically able to take on the task of loading or unloading? Nevertheless I went into the Smalls willingly as a lamb to the slaughter.

My trainer was Ed Matney. My supervisor was Greg. I knew not the last name of Greg. I received a temporary pass to enter the UPS premises. It expired December 31st. Thus began months in which I fought to uphold good work habits, being consistent and diligent in my work. UPS apparently does not need individuals with diligence and commitment.

I stayed through the long dark weeks as daylight waned and the start-times bathed in darkness; I did my best to avoid screwing up in my scans. My record was excellent, with only a few mistakes. My scanning rate was terrible though. I was placed on a set with less volume, further with an inferior scanner and inferior bags, so my lack of scans was understandable. But apparently UPS took notice of my lacking skills as opposed to my good record.

I helped out around the Smalls. Since my flow was little, I helped in the debag, and would run errands for Greg, helping out in the Unload. I was performing to the best of my ability in attempt to stay at UPS. For I heard from a friend that UPS kept some seasonal employees around. So I fought and worked hard, harder than I’ve ever worked. I actually enjoyed working there to a certain extent. I tried to stay positive. But negativity overtook me. I looked at the performance of others, which was comparatively better, but they had nicer tools to work with. I abhorred my end set and wished that I could work in a set with more volume, and better tools, but feared it would be more than I could handle. So fear overtook me, and I tried to do what I could at my designated set.

Christmas vacation would soon come. It was nearing the end of November. I got the dates from my mom for vacation and told them to Greg. He was quite nice about it and said it would be okay. But somewhere in the expanse of time dividing the months of November and December, Greg forgot. Like my mom always told me, “you should have had it in writing.” And I kicked myself.

Wednesday the 23rd, two days before Christmas Eve (when we would leave for vacation), Greg came up to me and said, “Remember, the start time changes to 6 next Monday.”

I was stunned. Had he not remembered my request in advance for vacation? I replied, “Actually, my family is leaving to go on vacation Friday. I’ll be gone all week.”

So Greg just said “Ok” and walked away. I felt, however, that things were not resolved completely. I still didn’t know if I was staying at UPS or not. So I worked the rest of the evening and went home, not having a chance to talk to Greg. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” I thought.

Thursday, it was about 3:00. The start time was 5:30. Around then someone from UPS called me, saying, “We are cutting some people today. You don’t have to come in.”

“But I want to come in. Is that okay?”

“No, we don’t need you. Don’t come in,” UPS answered. “Are you coming in Monday?” the man added abruptly.

I was shocked. I didn’t have a chance to talk to Greg again. I knew that they would not think kindly of me not coming in, but I had to tell him. “Actually,” I replied, “I will be on vacation. But I already notified Greg a month in advance about that.”

Thus it ended. I left for vacation on Friday, and came back the following Friday, wanting to spend New Year’s Day with Emily. When I got back, I checked the answering machine and UPS had not called. “Thus,” I assumed, “since I am by default working only until the 31st of December, I am no longer employed by UPS.”

I didn’t go in January 3rd. Why should I have? Hanging out with Owen seemed so much better at the time. Hindsight is 20-20, I have heard many times. Maybe if I had tried to go in then, I would not be in the situation at UPS. That week passed by. It was now Monday the 10th. I did not want to go in, but resolved to call UPS. But everyday I got home from school, it ended up being after the UPS start time. Thus another week passed.

It wasn’t until after the third week back from vacation that I went to UPS and tried to get my job back. It seemed too late, but a glimmer of hope still rest in the skies above Thirlane rd. near the airport. Emily was with me, offering her support for my search of jobs. I parked the car, got out and walked to the guard shack.

I engaged the guard with words, saying, “Excuse me, but I was working here up until December as a seasonal employee, and I’m trying to get my job back.”

The dude got on the phone and talked to some lady inside the UPS office. I knew it was a lady because he handed the phone to me. She asked me my SS number and looked me up, and responded:

“You are non-rehirable.”

Black clouds seemed to thicken overhead. “But, h… do you know why?” I stammered.

“It says here... for personal reasons.”

“So I can’t talk to somebody, try and resolve this issue?”

“No, you’ll never work at UPS again,” she said, and hung up.

I was broken. I knew before that UPS would not keep me, but never did I think they would label me “non-rehirable”. That was indeed an insult. An insult to my integrity, an insult to everything I had put into the company. I staggered out and the rest of the day died. I got back in the car. “How’d it go?” asked Emily. I told her. Almost to the point of tears, but for some reason I couldn’t cry. She comforted me, telling me to keep trying, and that everything would be alright. I confess that even still I cannot believe her words.

But for anyone to be in my situation and not succeed, I grant it to them that they did not fit in the box UPS fabricated for them. They tried cramming me in that box, but found early on I did not fit. Labels cannot define me. Applications cannot tell of someone’s character. I just want someone to look at me as a person instead of a machine capable of pulling work hours on end. I want someone to see my true work potential, and filling out stupid applications about trivial work experience seems so stupid to me. UPS thrives on scare tactics. One of the head managers could be seen walking around, carrying a constant scowl on her face. Whenever her mouth opened, only yelling and screams came pouring out. Looking back, I’m glad I’m not there, and yet I loathe the lack of monetary compensation, yearning, longing for a good job. They seemingly don’t exist. But I will keep looking and hope that one day yields success for a person as bright as myself.

p.s. I got a 99 on my Vector Calculus test.

Voyage to Flwockidion

In the obliterateness of transcendent space, captain Newog’s voice champerades over the intercom:

“To all fellow Juggernauts and Frilojogs, Tenderkittens and Wallowbutts, Shnoods, Fzwoods, and of course, the bellowsome plently known as Witchken:”

“Yes”, “yes”, “yes”, “yes”, “yes”, “yes”, and “yes?”

“I have obtained a healthy piece of inheritance from the planet Chubbspit. It’s surface is molten crap! It’s atmosphere smells worse than an intergalactic commode! It’s core shakes continually, belching tumultuously and fricken frolicly! But one thing this planet has, and that is shnoogies!”

Silence.

“What! Must I explain to this hard crowd what shnoogies are?”

More silence.

“You indifferent bunch of apathetic pieces of nothingness! How much longer must I endure this band of ruffians? Your eyes are wrapped in oil-dipped torches bearing the mark of infidelity! Must I remind you why you embarked on this voyage?”

“To find out where life began” answered monotonously one of the unimpressed individuals.

“Yes indeed! And you all should know that we all came from shnoogies!”

Silence.

“But this is why you came. Your quest, your mission will be accomplished by this remarkable indivisible piece of property, containing SHNOOGIES!”

More silence.

“Fwhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat! A mere mockery this is.” The bubblesome madman now lay sprawled upon the floor, quivering in spastic sobs. With the flick of a finger he activated the viewscreen, and a reddish looking planet with green globs came into view.

“There it is! Flwockidion, the planet of excrement. But what is waste to others will be gold to us!”

Silence, accompanied by rather disgusted looks.

“Must I remind you what we came here fr…”

“Yes we know, to find out where life began. But this is just stupid.”

Insulted, Newog turned in tumult. “You blasphemous fool! Fool of a Shnood! You should know better! Fhwyyyiiiiiii! Arrggghhhhhh!”

Booooooooooooooooooom. But of course, the boom wasn’t heard, because we’re in space, you dummy.

The end.