And we’re back at that first job. Like most youngsters there, I lived in the city even though the company was in the suburbs. On a good day, it took me 50 minutes to get there and an hour to get home. I accepted this. The commute was frustrating, but I wanted to live in the city, so it was ok. However, Chicago sometimes gets some nasty weather and these guys were sticklers for punctuality.
Don’t get me wrong, punctuality is very important to me. I hate being late and I expect others to be on time. However, there is a problem with some businesses. If you only see your employees as a tool (this place literally referred to me as a cog in a machine to my face a few times), then you lose your both humanity and their respect. Commuters died that day. I own that I should have left earlier, but there’s something wrong about a culture that is uncompromising when it comes to employees being human and living in a dangerous and unpredictable world. Sometimes a little understanding and sympathy are all you need to keep people loyal.
Did I care about that job? Not at all. It was like an abusive relationship. They treated me like crap, made me feel worthless, then tried to make me feel grateful that they were giving me a job.
Did I care about employment? Hell yes. I needed income and these were the days before Obamacare, so finding insurance with my pre-existing condition was difficult.
So, I just shrugged it off, took it as a lesson of how never to treat employees, and dreamed of a day when I could quit.
Nailed this one Dan!