Sunday, June 26, 2011

Tell Me What You REALLY Think...

To:(Name Withheld)
Multi Unit Manager
Dunkin Donuts
Cafua Management.                                  



Dear (Anonymous),

  I’m not quite sure if our previous conversation sufficiently projected the full amount of frustration that I’m feeling about working for Dunkin Donuts/ Cafua Management  at this time.

When I first began my employment, I made a few (apparently erroneous) assumptions about my new employer.

First..  I was under the impression that I was being paid as a salaried employee... Which, (correct me if I’m wrong) means that, technically, I’m “on the clock”, so to speak, twenty four- seven. That’s a give and take to me. I work six days a week, as opposed to five, with no breaks.. which seems a little excessive, but I was told once my store was running correctly, I may be eligible to work five days, if my benevolent supervisor feels I deserve it.. Which could be never.. Forget the fact that, 2 months deep, and I’m already severely burnt out. Suck it up, right?

Fine.
I can take that.

But, along with that, I expected just a little give from the company’s end as well. No sick days? For a salaried employee? Ummmm, ok.. I realize they’re not really “legally required” to give me sick days, so that’s fine. I suppose..  I can (reluctantly) deal with it.
I do, however, find it more than a little amusing/disturbing that an organization as large as Dunkin Donuts, or even Cafua Management , would tell Store Managers how important, valuable, and so very vital they are to the business to inspire some sort of loyalty to The Brand, yet not provide something as basic as sick day in appreciation for all of the positive things they contribute. The company obviously requires enormous amounts of sacrifices from management, yet, from what I’ve seen in the last 2 months,  isn’t willing to reciprocate the commitment or the loyalty it so adamantly requires in return.. Hell, I have yet to see conclusive evidence that the company is even willing to provide managers with the necessary tools, functioning equipment or investment in labor to adequately run their stores with any real measure of success.  But that’s neither here nor there.


At the very least I would expect a smidgen of compassion, understanding and trust, while not being treated like a sixteen year old crew member trying to dodge work to go to the beach when I’m not healthy enough to put in 8 hours, or if something comes up unexpectedly, and I’m not able to go to work. I have worked sick. Plenty of times. Most days, the distress my stomach suffers from would be enough for just about anyone else to consider themselves “sick”, and call out. But, I am not most people, and I muscle through the agony.. I am fully aware of the difference between The Sniffles and a Digestive System Failure.

You will accept “I don’t feel good” as a viable excuse for a teenager to call out of work, but when the adult feels like he’s got the god damn swine flu and a bunch of tumors in his head, you call “Bullshit”. At what point do I become beyond reproach? I am a 32 year old father in a position of  authority and responsibility to the business I (allegedly) run. I don’t play the “sick game”. And I would expect to be treated as such and with a certain amount of professional courtesy.  To require me to call out a full six hours before my shift is unreasonable and retarded. A LOT can happen in six hours..  I could feel better, or I could be rushed to the Emergency Room. If I’m in no shape to drag my sick carcass into the store, what makes you think I necessarily have the presence of mind to call (You) at 2 AM, or that I have the ability to call around for adequate coverage at that hour, either? And what would have happened at that point? Would I have reached the same Voicemail box that I got a mere two hours later?

Probably.

So what’s the difference?

Nothing.
It’s pretty simple, actually..
I work in a RESTAURANT.
The policy in the Employee Handbook clearly states that an employee shall NOT report to work if he or she is vomiting or has diarrhea. It does NOT say that an employee needs to secure adequate coverage for their shift in the event of said vomiting or diarrhea. What if I was in a car accident? How about a heart attack? If I slipped into a coma, would you still be writing me up for not providing you with 6 hours of notice and an employee to cover my shift?

No.
And if you did, there would certainly be more than a few raised eyebrows.
I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but the North won the Civil War. Slavery has been abolished.
Just another example of someone asserting their dominance and authority over another person instead of helping to resolve the problem. Debbie took care of it for me. Without judgment or pretense. Pre-Dunkin Donuts history notwithstanding, Debbie Capron has earned my loyalty by being unwaveringly loyal to me in return.. If she wanted or needed me to work 12 hours on my day off for her, I would. Without question. For free.

She knows this.

She knows this because when something comes up with me, she has my back, regardless of what kind of situation it puts her in. I work my tail off for her, and she sets me up for success. She’s got my back.  And I have hers. She helps me out when I’m in a pickle, and I ask “How high?“ when she tells me to jump. We make sacrifices for each other, because we’re on the same team. That’s how it works. One hand washes the other. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. She is my boss, and yet only flexes her authority as a last resort. She treats me with respect. Like a person. This is obviously a concept that has escaped your grasp. I’ve been trying to scratch your back for weeks, only to be the target of blatant mistrust and blame for situations beyond my control in return. If you feel as though what you say to me goes in one ear, and out the other, it’s because that’s exactly what happens.

Why am I going to go the extra mile for you, or put the extra time in to make you look better, when you throw me under the bus at every possible opportunity?   I certainly hadn’t a clue that I would be expected to work my one scheduled day off in the event that my health prevented me from being in the restaurant for the standard 48 hours or 6 days....  And, how dare you suggest such a thing, when less than two weeks ago, we both heard a representative from the NH Department of Labor tell us that it was unlawful for you to do so.  I can guarantee you that, barring emergency circumstances, Dave Furbush working on his one day off in a week will never happen.

A man has to have principles, and I’m sticking to this one. I’m not going to put forth the extra effort for a company that expects so much, yet fails to provide a positive working relationship with management based on compromise and mutual respect. How did I come to this conclusion?  Partially because I don’t feel as though the sacrifices I make for the company are even noticed, much less appreciated. Quite the opposite, actually..  And partially because I’m not a huge fan of working for free for people that insist on riding my ass every day and writing me up over such trivial nonsense..

Isn’t that why I’m paid salary? Again, give and take..  I frequently work past my scheduled time to leave. I certainly wouldn’t expect to leave an hour early on Tuesday if I were to stay an hour late on Monday. It all evens out at the end, right?  So, if something comes up, and I’m down a closer, I cover it, and when something else comes up with me, I can leave when I need to without getting into an awkward pissing contest with my boss about it. There’s a shared benefit to having certain employees on a set salary. It seems that your organization seems to have left the “shared” part of that term out of their personal definition.. This is completely unacceptable.


In regards to what was so eloquently referred to as me “missing an excessive amount of time in the last 2 months“..

Five days.

In over 2 months.

Three of which were spent in the hospital having my son.

 I was also under the assumption that the brain-trust who hired me were well aware of my immediately imminent fatherhood, and would respect my need to be with my family during the event. That said, I was extremely disappointed to learn how non-respectful my employer was to the situation. Sure.. I got the “extra” day off, but not without a fight.

That just ain’t right.

I know there is a business to run,  but when I’ve been up for 72 hours straight in the hospital, the last thing in the world I’m concerned with is Tamworth Dunkin Donut’s Inventory being submitted on time, or how many people are on the floor for breakfast. I’m in no condition to deal with those things. None. And this was clearly understood by all.. Someone would surely take care of it without hassling me, during a very difficult time, and I would return the favor as soon as I was able to.

Right?

WRONG.

Surprise, surprise. Yet another situation where Dave is made to feel like a neglectful and irresponsible Store Manager because he’s a little too busy in Concord having a baby, and can’t properly tend to his store today.  What a scumbag, huh?

Cheatin’ The Man.

Which brings me toward my third ridiculous assumption.. That I would be trained for six weeks, and learn all there was to know about running the business before I was handed the keys and actually expected to do so and produce positive results .
Getting hired “off the street” to run a Dunkin Donuts, I was immediately impressed by what I then perceived as  Dunkin’s insatiable hunger for results, accountability, and follow up. They seemed like they were all “on the ball” and somewhere in the same ball park as my previous employer in terms of the overall organization and training departments.. When they tell you to expect something, they follow through. I was in capable hands. Not only that, I was being trained by someone that I have the highest professional respect for. Everyone wins. Or, so I thought. Going from New Guy to Manager in a mere month and a half seemed like an enormous challenge, and  the company seemed like it was fully capable of successfully guiding me through the process. Everything was coming together.. I absorbed more information in a week, than most people are capable of downloading in a month. I truly enjoyed my work. It was a pleasure to learn while being surrounded by such organization, and initiative. There was little to no negativity in the restaurant, and I was treated fairly when it came to maneuvering my schedule around appointments and family activities. It really did seem like I’d made a wise decision. This place is kinda awesome.


When reality fully set in, I was sitting in the office in Ossippee when Debbie told me I was going to be moved to Tamworth after less than a third of my training. I realize that I’m a quick study, but Holy Christ. I knew how to open the front of house with relative precision, and how to make some sandwiches. I knew less than nothing about baking, product prep, or paperwork. Again.. A Company of this size and scope shouldn’t be this ridiculously unprofessional when training a Restaurant Manager. To say I’m not impressed would be a massive understatement.

That said..

I find it almost laughable that you would consider my presence in the restaurant so completely necessary at all times. In addition to receiving just one day off a week, the amount of grief I encounter when trying to get out at a decent hour, or have certain days off is downright stupid. Under normal circumstances, I get the point..

Kinda..

The Manager needs to be in the store to ensure certain standards are being met, right? I have a few issues with this, in regards to myself specifically. Most of my employees know more about the business than I do. They’re training me. What am I supposed to tell them? I’m expected to hold people accountable for things I don’t have the foggiest idea about. I’m operating on experience in general restaurant management alone. Speaking of experience..

I’m also under the assumption that I was brought on board, in part, because of the 8 years I spent working for your primary competitor.. Yet, any time I present any ideas that offer any insight on the company hell bent on destroying you, I am either swiftly rejected, or flat out ignored entirely. I don’t think you quite understand the focused ferocity in which they’re trying to destroy you with.. With their resources and internal organization, and Dunkin Donuts’ ignorance and denial, there’s zero doubt they will succeed. Just trying to give you a chance. When it all goes tits up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

And last..

Quick question: How long should I wait until I contact the New Hampshire Board Of Labor about your inexplicable inability/ refusal to pay me in a timely fashion every week? It’s bad enough I’m expected to run a restaurant that grosses a hundred grand a month with little to no training for chump change.. Could you Junior Varsity Amateurs at least present me with said chump change on time?

Alas.. You apparently cannot.

I tried.. I really did. Every time I blink, it gets a little worse. Management for Dunkin Donuts/ Cafua Management has quite possibly been the most unpleasant work experience I have ever had.. And with that statement, I (semi)respectively submit my resignation. Effective immediately.

Best Of Luck,

Dave Furbush
President
Project MayHAM
Bandonox.blogspot.com
Hotwinterbeverages.blogspot.com

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Sooo... About That...


Writing for a living seems like a good idea. Apparently it ain't that simple. I just read a blog explaining that most of the challenge is Search Engine Optimization. Wait... What?
I 'd like to think I'm pretty knowledgeable in the internet department... What the fuck is that?

I guess I don't know shit. I've spent the last 3 days trying to get a grasp on what exactly I should be doing besides writing a shitload and posting my little nuggets of brain vomit all over the fucking place.... Anyone with any ideas hit me up.

I've been preparing what I would consider at the moment to be a Letter Of Resignation for the last few days. I'm about half done... It's a doozy. Like 2,000 words doozy... I think you'll dig it...

Also... This needs to go to a vote. I fear that my brother in arms has forgotten, or just plain doesn't give a shit about our podcast and thousands of adoring fans... I was thinking of maybe... Jussst maybe... doing one by myself. Please give me some feedback, and I'll talk to you later....

Saturday, June 11, 2011

So, That's That.

... I'm officially a whore.

This guy is tired of slinging coffee. While I haven't quit just yet... I foresee it happening sooner rather than later. The prospect of walking into that corporate franchise hell is god damn torturous. I cannot deal with it. Everything that was even slightly tolerable about McDonald's is fucking absent.

So... How will I support the newest member of Project MayHAM, you ask? I may, in fact, get another job. It could be in the restaurant business. What it will NOT be is some shitty, corporate franchise. I've had enough. No Mas. I love cooking. I really like the camaraderie and atmosphere of the business. Shit... I even love running a restaurant. ..When A: I've been trained adequately to do so, and B: When I'm not contractually obligated to work 6 days a week and get up at 3 in the fucking morning every day, only to be treated like a slave, and not what I, in fact am.... The Fucking Boss. It's ridiculous. Especially when I have an eleven year old daughter that just wants to spend time with her Daddy, who is way too exhausted to even fucking sit up for the 4 hours between the time he gets home (late) from work and the time he needs to go to bed to do it all over the next day. Every day. And the one day off I do get a week is murder. I waste half of the day recharging from being burnt out all week.... Then, maybe, I run some errands or do laundry. Cook some dinner... Then, it's right back to fucking bed at seven. And forget about trying to build a relationship with my 2 week old son. I've been here before... And I believe in myself, and not repeating my own mistakes.

Fuck this. I'm finally putting my money where my mouth is. I am officially a freelance writer. It's a start. And they say it's never too late..The wheels are in motion. I know I said I was gonna do this a while ago, But this time, I'm for real. I think I froze up under the pressure of becoming an author. A good friend said to me: "I wanna say I know Furbush after his novel is published."
Yeah... Great idea. Except nothing came to me, and rather than sticking to my strengths, and writing every day, I became lethargic and depressed that yet another dream of mine was too difficult to attain.

But, it's on... Fuck a novel (for now). I've started a profile over at HubPages, and published my first "hub"... please check it out and spread the word. And please... for the love of all that is sacred and Holy... Click The Fucking Ads. For me.. OK? I'm gonna be writing some reviews for Superior Media Group, pretty soon, here... I'm also going to be throwing up some paid reviews on your very own Hot Winter Beverages. Project MayHAM will remain the same as it always has been. In fact, I think there will be a fuck load of an improvement in post frequency. Same goes for MAYHAM. Not only are we going to start posting episodes more often, I'm introducing other podcasts to "The MAYHAM Network". If you're interested in either recording a podcast with me, or submitting a podcast for consideration, please contact me at your earliest convenience.

We've already started Rage Of Fury, and coming soon... Wait for it... The Rape Factory, with Furbush And Marshall. More ideas a a-churnin'... So, stay tuned. (And don't forget to subscribe on iTunes and donate on Project MayHAM)

I am mixing shit up a bit. We're considering a drastic move. Yesterday, it was Canada. Today it's Oklahoma. I just started reading The Simple Guide To A Minimalist Life by Leo Babauta, and have started to at least rethink some of the bullshit that corrodes my life. I'm urging you to check out the e-book. Buy that shit. It's less than ten bucks, and it's had a pretty profound and positive impact on me. Not only that, but if you do purchase this thing, Daddy gets a cut. And we're one step closer to actually living the dream. Click here to view more details.
I need flexibility. I want to see my children grow up, and do what I love. I don't want to be just another asshole with wasted potential.

So, keep your eyes and ears peeled.

To Whores!



Sunday, May 1, 2011

Once Again... Part Three...

First.. Let me start by saying: That whole "Part (whatever) tomorrow" shit?
Sorry.
Life.
Moving on...


Donald Lord was at it again.

Turns out, he was calling and e-mailing McDonald's Corporate once more, six months into my transfer.. Saying I should be`FIRED, and all they did was transfer me... blah blah blah. For the love of Pete.... What the fuck did I do to this guy? It seems pretty far fetched to believe that he has such a raging hard on for destroying my life, unless you stop to consider the very likely possibility that he's slipping his cock into the child molesting whore.. Let's face it... A dude's gotta defend his fucking girlfriend, Right?

How on Earth did I learn that this Dickwad was after my job again, you may ask?

Little did I know that my tenure with the world's largest Quick Service Restaurant was coming to an abrupt halt, regardless. I was clearly sent to Epsom to be driven out. And that is ultimately what happened.
Every Second Assistant Manager that has been sent there in the last 3 years has been gone within six months. Why? They've either been driven to tears, coerced into violence, or fired for some ridiculous bullshit that was very obviously concocted in the brain of the store's evil, Fraggle looking cunt bag of a First Assistant... Now, I don't wanna name names, but it starts with:
Judi Bluto.
I know I've mentioned her on the podcast before... Either way... I was a goner the second they decided to ship me there.
A week after my last day, when I finally calmed down enough to actually talk to one of my former coworkers, I decided to break my silence about the situation to Ty... We spoke honestly with each other about the whole situation and came to the conclusion that it (my leaving the company) was ultimately the best decision for all parties... So, during the conversation, she mentions something I wasn't aware of. Seems Mr. Lord made another complaint. I didn't see it. But I guess (according to her) he went apeshit. He scolded them for not firing me 6 months prior, let them know about all of "the horrible shit I say around my daughter" and provided detailed directions to Project MAYHAM and the podcast, so they could "see/hear for themselves". Again.. They knew better. But... That ain't the fucking point.
So...
Just for shits and grins.. My former area supervisor actually sat down during his lunch one day and listened to a whole episode. He kinda dug it. Just saying.

Fast Forward to the second week of my employment with my former competitor. Now... I wanted to start fresh. You know... After all of the drama at McDonald's, I just wanted to keep what I did on my own time private. Keep it sorta "professional"... I didn't tell them about the blog, the podcast... NOT A THING. Then one day, I roll in at five in the morning to my training manager asking me how well Kim and myself were getting along these days....

Hmmm...
I'll get into the history involving my training manager...
Quickly... She's been my friend for years. She was in court on my behalf last summer during the Domestic Violence shit, not only because she had seen our (completely non-violent) dynamic behind closed doors, but alsoooo... wait for it... She's the mother of the kid that Kim babysat for 6 months, without knowing that it was unlawful for her to do so.... Which resulted in a probation violation, and landed my loving ex-wife in the clink for two months. She was also one of the people that Don sent messages to.

Needless to say... She was aware of the history. Her boss, also my brand spanking new boss, was not. Turns out Dunks got an email. Yup. Saying ridiculous shit like how, if I were ever to transfer to Alton, they would lose business... How they should keep me away from underage girls... Directions to the blog/podcast, etc.
I think you know where this is going. The difference is: These guys don't know me from a hole in the wall. They just hired me off the street to run one of their restaurants. Now they're getting "customer complaints" from this fucking guy, saying who the fuck knows what.

So there I am.. in panic mode. I'm calling Arielle... Defcon 4. Shut It Down. I had her take down Episode 12. I'm trying to get a hold of Big Cat at 7am to let him know that we have to suspend production until further notice. (Which, based on his disappearance the last few weeks, I think he took that shit seriously.) I'm scrambling around, trying to secure an alternate spot for Project MayHAM... This is exactly why I didn't want any of these guys to know about any of this shit. I don't need this Hell following me everywhere. Yet... Here I am, worrying that I may lose my job cuz' my new bosses don't know the history, and are taking this complaint seriously..

That's IT.




Next post... the aftermath.
And I'm putting out the call.



Friday, April 22, 2011

Once Again.. Part Two

It was bad enough that my work performance was pretty close to dogshit during this debacle. In February, I had graduated Hamburger University in Chicago, IL. When I left Chicago, my wallet was the one that said "BAD MOTHERFUCKER" on it. I was on the fast track. As far as I was concerned, I was at the top of my game, professionally. Personal problems? Fuck that. Leave it at the door.

When the Domestic Violence shit hit the fan.. The wheels came off. Everything just fell apart. There was no more "leaving it at the door". I missed my kids sooo fucking much, I was sleeping in the woods. I couldn't focus. At one point I burst into tears trying to make a McFlurry. I dropped the dessert on the floor and scrambled to the office... I remember breaking down to Bilo, sobbing in the parking lot about how "Two months ago, nobody could touch me.. Now I can't even make an ice cream" It was sooo true. I was useless. That was the worst part. Up until that point, when everything else was falling apart, I could always count on excelling at work. That shit comes easy to me. Always has. When suddenly, that shit wasn't happening either... My confidence was completely destroyed.


On top of that... instead of trying to doing my job, I'm outside for six hours a day on the phone. Cops, Lawyers, my mother.. It was never ending. I justified it in my head...
Looking back on it now, I see it from both sides. First, I was fiercely loyal to that company for many years. I went the extra mile for them on countless occasions. I lived and breathed that restaurant. When they wanted something, they got it. When they needed something, there was no question. When I was transferred to a store 45 more minutes away from my house, I didn't squawk. "No problem." "Whatever you guys need." I did the work of a First Assistant for a year before they promoted me. I'd proven my loyalty, and it seemed like maybe.. just maybe... someone in that organization other than Ty would have some compassion for my situation... Maybe even some fucking patience during this excruciating ordeal. Hell.. Maybe they had some. But it only took a couple of months before I was demoted and shipped off to Epsom.. The beginning of the end. I never recovered.

But, honestly...?
I was horrible.
I should have taken a leave of absence or something. Those guys paid me decent money every week to chain smoke, give statements to the police, seek advice from my friends and family and strategize with The Bulldog. Ty could only make excuses for me for so long... She warned me, but my head was crammed too far up my own ass to hear her cries... My biggest regret last summer was putting one of my best friends in such an unfair, awkward position. She knew I was a mess... And I knew she knew that I was a mess, and why. So, rather than sucking it the fuck up and pulling myself outta the shit, I looked to her (and her alone) to swat away the vultures circling around my soon-to-be McCorpse, and continued my downward spiral...

Then, as if only to add insult to injury... This fucking guy crosses the line.

Part 3 tomorrow...

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Just When Ya Think You've Had Enough....

... They Bend You Over And Fuck You Once Again.

Part ONE

The past couple of weeks have been a whirlwind. I'm working at my own store now... about four weeks ahead of schedule.
Everything is going great.
Until yesterday...
Now... I realize not very many people are aware that the guy that my ex-wife is living with is our biggest fan. By that, I mean... He is spreading the fucking word. But NOT in a positive way. I haven't, up until now, been specific when referring to the guy on Project MayHAM. I have to be careful. But here? Who cares?

The contents of the blog were introduced as evidence of my "unstable mental state" in court. I was accused of being an irresponsible drunk, who "bashed" my ex wife on my blog incessantly. Apparently, publishing my written account of the actual events that took place is considered "bashing"...
Who Knew...???
Since then, I've been really careful when speaking my mind about shit, not to drop names.
That is the main reason for my absence for months. My hands were tied...
The Bulldog said "Keep your fuckin' mouth shut", and I did.
Big Cat doesn't give a shit... So I let him say what needed to be said for the summer.

Last summer was a shit show.
Long story (kinda) short, I attempted to legally kick my wife out of my house, when our screaming matches became A. Too unbearable and B. A regular occurance in front of the kids... And I wasn't letting my kids watch us crumble like my parents let me witness.
Fuck That. The reason I waited so long to finally get rid of the cunt was the kids. I didn't want them to go through what I went through as a kid. "... So I dealt with the bullshit for way longer than I should have. It became about "What was worse?" Staying together, or blowing it all up? I chose the former and was accused of Domestic Violence.
Restraining Order.
Bang.
Done.
No home, no kids... NOTHING.
I lived in my truck for 2 months.
That's when this fucking guy started his shit.


Donald Lord was a neighbor of ours.
He lived a couple of houses down from us. My ex-wife would go over with the kids,while I was at work, and hang out with him and his family. Every once in a while, when his van wouldn't start, I'd give him a ride to the store... In return, if I was at work and Kim needed to go to an appointment or whatever, he would give her a lift.
I would half joke that Don was "Her Boyfriend"... just busting balls. He was always giving her rides places in his van.
There were three reasons I never really gave it a second thought.
1. He seemed very effeminate.
2. He (allegedly) has Multiple Sclerosis, and is physically a complete fucking mess.
3. He's been married for 25 years... with several kids, and his family seemed pretty happy and nice.
A couple of years ago, during an ice storm, the power went out for a few days, and all four of us slept at their house where they still had heat.
When they moved, Kim and the girls would go to their house while I was at work... They'd go swimming and shit. No big deal.
Other than bustin' chops about my wife riding all over God's creation with her boyfriend in a van, I never had a discouraging word to say about the fucking guy.
Then, when all of this Restraining Order shit goes down, she's staying at their house with the kids, and he's all over facebook talking about how I won't even send her $50 so my kids can eat.
He's sending private messages to everyone I know, telling them how "I beat the shit out of my wife, now I'm ignoring and neglecting my kids so I can run around fucking my 20 year old girlfriend.(which was considered adultery)"... The "adultery" part should give you a pretty good idea of what I'm dealing with here..He clearly bought the lies she sold him. What he didn't realize, was there was a Restraining Order in place. Not only could I not come within 100 feet of my wife, I couldn't contact her at all. Not even through a third party. Had I given a friend a hundred bucks to go get the kids groceries, that fat cunt could have had me arrested on the spot. My visitation with the kids was taken away because of "my history of alcoholism". If I saw them on the street, I couldn't even wave to them. Now I'm getting all of these messages from people I don't know... telling me what a piece of fucking shit I am.
The cops investigated the DV allegations, and once it became clear to them that it never happened, no charges were ever filed.
That didn't stop Donald Lord... Oh No.
He cried up and down that the Alton Police Department let me off because "I gave them free food at my work"..
He sent an email to McDonald's... Yup, that's right. The Corporate Customer Complaint Department. He complained that there was a manager that works at McDonald's (He gave my name...) who drives a (My Truck) with a license plate that says "MAYHAM" who routinely drinks in the parking lot after hours. He claimed that he lives across the street and has witnessed this firsthand... and his only concern is this activity being performed in such close proximity to his very impressionable children. After repeated attempts to alert the local police department, it has become clear that they are unwilling to prosecute me because A. My wife is a registered sex offender, and B. I give them free food...He said that it was deplorable that such a large company like McDonald's would continue to employ such a blatant degenerate.

So, great. First you complain that I'm not supporting my children... Now you're trying to remove my means of doing so...
Brilliant.
Fortunately... My boss (and her boss) have known and worked with me for several years, and knew that his claims were complete nonsense....
The plot thickens...

Part 2 tomorrow....

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Is This Love?




Today was my first day on the floor. It's surprising how insanely easy this shit is. I was told that the sandwich station is the hardest shit to get down. Really? Are you kidding me? Maybe it's the the whole "makin' Big Macs for the last ten years" thing... I'm not sure... But, I got it down in twenty minutes. There are kids that have worked there for months... hell.. YEARS... and they still don't fully grasp it.

Anyway... Enough tootin' my own horn. I'm diggin' it. I'm still kinda tentative about making this thing a career, though. Too much happened at McDonald's for me to be totally sold. It's a combination of the way I was treated in the throes of my messy divorce by the company I've been fiercely loyal to since 2003, and the almost instinctual cynicism towards their business model. You gotta figure, I've been practically trained to consider them fucking amateurs compared to the almighty Arches. So, everything I do or observe is through a certain lens. It could be a completely positive, fruitful relationship going forward, but for right now, I'm keeping one hand on the dock.

So... since only a select few even know about this blog, I'm gonna be putting a few things up here on HWB that were originally intended for Project MayHAM, but never got published because the heat was waaaay too fucking high there ... Shit... still is. For example... The FULL explanation concerning my leave of absence, " Love Always, Your Manipulative Whore Of A Cunt..." The " Veritable Bomb Of White Trash Knowledge" that Mr. Cat promised I'd drop, but never did. There are a ton of eyes over there. The divorce ain't final yet. Just covering my ass.

On that note, I bid you farewell. Stay tuned for more podcasts. By more, I mean different. Big Cat's recent move has made it way less convenient for him to pop down here frequently to record, and I have an itch that needs scratching. Maybe just me... Maybe me with other people... Who the fuck knows. Rest assured, it will be part of the "MAYHAM Network"...