One of the many minor annoyances you learn to deal with at work is trying to get stuff from the warehouse. Although I've never thought about it in these terms before, I suppose you could make a list of rules of how to deal with warehousemen:
1. Never go to the warehouse at their coffee time as, though they will eventually help you, you will have to wade through about 50 tons of whinging and moaning first.
2. Be prepared to either kiss some ass or sling some bullshit before you get what you want.
3. They love to fuck with you.
So. I went down there at my foreman's behest to get three items. A drill bit for 25 drill, some coffee, and some creamer. I wrote the list down on my hand so I wouldn't forget. The drill bit was no problem. But coffee is on the list of banned subtsances, apparently. Along with pens. Last year or so there was a problem with coffee and pens going missing so now there are extra procedures and precautions in place to make sure no one steals them.
"Can I have some coffee and creamer?"
"No. Your foreman has to get that."
"Well, he sent me to get some. See?" I showed him my hand with the grocery list written on it. Since I forgot to get my hand notarized he wasn't impressed.
"Your foreman has to talk to my foreman."
I didn't even know they had a foreman and pretty much thought he was fucking with me. But whatever, that coffee is so disgusting I wasn't heartbroken to not get any. Anyways he loads me up with the drillbit and then he tells me to go ask his foreman for some coffee. I even get to go inside the warehouse to do this. He points to a closed door. "Just go in there," he says. I know better than that, so I knock. I can clearly hear someone talking on the phone inside so I know someone's there. I wait. Now the whole warehouse crew is watching me, which is kind of weird.
"Just walk in, we always do," they say. Mindful of rule #3 I knock again. Still no answer. Eventually I give in to peer pressure and open the door.
"I didn't answer the door for a reason," some guy who I've never seen before barks at me. He is young, probably younger than me, seated at a desk and dressed in a t-shirt and sweats. Since I am a pumpman out in the pit, I have to wear full safety paraphernalia, vest, coveralls, steel toed rubber boots (which are always wet on the inside), hardhat, and I always have a few layers of mud as extra protection.
"Uh yeah, sorry. Um, can I get some coffee?"
"No you can't get some coffee, there are procedures in place and even though I didn't write them I have to follow them. Your foreman has to come see me directly."
"Well, technically he's not supposed to leave the pit."
"Not my problem- speak to Gary about it. His policy, I just have to follow them."
He is so over the top anal about this that now I have a mission to get some coffee out of this guy or die trying. I show him my hand. "See, he sent me to get some coffee, I wrote it down right here."
Now he loses it. He jumps out of his chair and starts raving, I can't even remember all he said but he finally mentioned how it's a good thing it was month-end since, even though he was up to his ass in alligators (a favorite expression of harried foremen out at the mine, though in his spotless office I could see no evidence of alligators or even gecko lizards) he could bend the rules this one time. "You tell your foreman this is his One. Got it?"
He takes me back to a locked cabinet and grudgingly gives me two bags of coffee and way more creamer than I need.
"I'm not usually such a dick but it's month-end you know?"
"Yeah," I say. What the hell does that mean, I wonder. Long ago I learned that the absolutely best way to deal with people who have tantrums is to remain completely calm and serene. This job has made me so dirty, and scarred, and jaded, and tough even, that all I can do is laugh at this clean, soft, petty little child freaking out about some coffee.
As he stomps back to his office I can't resist. "I suppose it would be too much to ask for some pens, eh?"