Homer's HArdware Chapter three

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I didn't take me this long to write it, but travel blog has been down. So here's it...
Chapter 3:
The Maddening Process
' I have mentioned earlier that my sanity maybe in question. I don’t really think I’m going crazy, but putting up with the propaganda and the associate rebuilding process tries one’s sanity. Remaining employed with this company tries it further.
My group training was a grueling sixteen-hour introduction into the cult of Homer’s. Perhaps cult is a strong word, so I will attempt to use it whenever possible, as it is the perfect description of this place.
In my desperate situation (unemployment and the search for employment) I had taken to the drink as a method of calming myself and to assist with coping with the fact that I would be shortly out of funds and in debt (and right in time for Christmas). I celebrated my newfound employment with the pooch, endlessly toasting my good fortune. Having purchased enough drink for two, and the pooch only drinking half her share before passing out, I was obliged to drink the remainder.
Training started at 8:30am, not early, but early enough after a good drink. I walked into the training center smelly like a rubbee and heavy lidded. I took an empty seat and looked around me. Thankfully I wasn’t the only one in such poor condition. As I was pondering my short-term existence (will I survive today in this condition?) the human resources manager walked in. She loomed over the group of us, casting a shadow over the whole table (to be fair she was back-lit, but she was a big lady). She introduced herself as Rudy. She looked like the ‘dude’ in a lesbian relationship; she had a platinum blonde brush cut and held her arms at her sides like a construction worker. When she moved around it looked as though she had been riding a horse for the better part of a month.
She spent the morning of the first day of training talking about the evolution of the company (the poor Homer story, not the sexual harassment and eventually mob related story I will relate) and the culture of Homer’s. Homer’s, it was explained, is like a big family. Homer is like a father to all of his employees. Running down the pecking order, each level of employee is given a title corresponding to their place in the company/family (big brother or sister, little brother, little sister, second cousin twice removed). The whole time I couldn’t stop thinking about what a bad Christian I was and why I was such a bad Christian. Rudy also mentioned that Homer’s was a dating pool: if you were married you could end up divorced, if you were single you could end up married. Then I couldn’t stop thinking about hillbillies and shrinking gene pools. Then things started making sense.
The afternoon session consisted of associate etiquette (dress code to associate conduct), safety training (proper lifting technique to proper ass-wiping technique) and, finally, introduction to costumer service. By the end of the day my tender brain was drowning in a pile of naturally manufactured fertilizer. The monotony of the day rivaled a blowjob scene in a shitty porno; the kind that loops the same scene over and over without providing a decent money shot. The information seemed important, however, given the number of short-bus-riding-high-school-special-ed students I was hired with
Day two was worse. Far worse. If day one was like a badly looped porno, day two (to continue with vulgar porno analogies) was like being the woman on the tail end of a “Her First Anal” movie when they’ve forgotten the lube and just can’t get the scene right.
The first hour and a half covered every aspect (every fucking aspect) of the importance of customer service. If a customer sneezes, say bless you and get him or her a Kleenex. If a customer farts, even if it’s a real ripper and the stench makes you want to choke the life out of the bastard, pretend it didn’t happen. If he asks you if you did it, say yes and apologize for curling his or her nose hairs. If the customer apologizes, refrain from turning green and tell them you don’t mind re-gluing all of the labels back on to the boxes and that his or her fart-smell smells of potpourri or freshly baked bread. If a customer pees on the floor, get a mop. If a customer tries to steal something don’t touch them, call security. If a customer takes a dump, wipe his ass and wish him a pleasant day. Fucking painful.
The rest of the day consisted of role-playing, with the human resources manager breathing her angry lesbian breath down our collars and shouting the most obscure situations at us (“The customer is pregnant, her water has broke, and she needs to get a 6l flush toilet before heading to the hospital! WHAT DO YOU DO!”). Fucking painful doesn’t even describe it. By the end of training day two a sense of camaraderie was developing among many of the group members; the kind of camaraderie that comes from playing on the same sports team and showering naked together. I’m not into sports.

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Comments

[Jessie]

Short?
I enjoyed... although I found it a bit short for summing up 16 hours of training. Love you descriptions bren... some of those words i had to look up *blush*