As soon as I got in, I was trying to get out. When I ran big kitchens, the only person I had to deal with was the owner, and most of the time he didn’t know how to cook, so I was free to hoist myself on my own petard.

There was no HR, only a tap on the shoulder and the choice of whether the back door was open or closed when you went through it. Performance no excuses. In 1982, I took a job on the distribution dock for Dupont.

Compared to what I came from, this was kindergarten with benefits. But the petty daily bullshit put a fuzzy expiration date on my new career. I didn’t think I would last. That little conundrum was solved when they offered me a satellite position in Boston. (Next door to Mike’s gym.)  🙂

Then, all I got was the daily phone call from the Gestapo in Billerica. Which I was always sure to answer out of breath. Then that started getting political. Just when I thought I would try something else, a sales position opened up in Arizona.

I had my doubts because of my limited education, but Sully convinced me I could get by on my looks, my jokes and my nice ass. As usual, he was right. And I killed those numbers year after year.

So, for 30 plus years I’ve been able to escape the fishbowl most of you haven’t. I have never had to sit across the room from some asshole all day who was trying to report me for not doing my job.

Fortunately, I was never exposed for my lack of attention and detail to….anything. I have the attention span of a gnat. A dead one.

I was always out somewhere shaking the bush making them think I was working hard and by the book. And I would like to thank you all for covering for me.

Not much has changed these days because I’m still out here trying to escape from something else.

Adios muchachos. 🙂