Last night I mentally and emotionally unburdened myself and the community came through for me with encouraging words and support, so I figure you all deserve the rest of the sordid tale.
All names have been changed in an effort to cover my ass.
I met Dick at a karaoke show. I didn't know at the time I met him that he was the owner of the karaoke company. We were just two guys having a good time singing, drinking, and enjoying ourselves. It wasn't until the second time I ran into him that I became aware that he was owner of this company and since I enjoy karaoke I inquired about a job. One wasn't forthcoming at that moment but a little over a year later, when I ran into him again at one of his company's shows, I asked once more and he hired me. I began as a helper to start. My job was to help load and unload the karaoke equipment, set it up, and work the crowd. I was good at cajoling people up to sing for the first time. Once they got over their initial stage fright I had 'em hooked. I soon learned how to run the equipment and became a Karaoke Jock myself. I was better at running the equipment than the KJ I had been working with. I eventually worked my way up to five or six shows a week making half of the take for each gig. Some paid better than others but it averaged out to about $100 a night for six hours of work.
Career wise it was probably the second best job I ever had. (The best was a year and a half restoring antique stained glass windows.) It was great having a job where I was paid to be the life of the party. I got paid to hang out at bars, get a little buzz on, and show off. I really didn't have to deal with Dick too much at all unless the equipment broke down. He was good about putting money back into the business to keep the gear up to snuff. Everything was awesome for a few years until he decided I was making to much and he wanted a bigger cut. Other KJs were a little rougher on the equipment and having "too much fun" if you know what I mean and losing shows. Profits were down and he thought he could improve HIS situation by screwing me or my customers over. Since I was unwilling to gouge the bar owners for more money or take a pay cut... that era of our relationship ended.
That was when I went to work for Dick's sprinkler company. Dick had a habit of hiring the lowest of the low so he could take maximum advantage of them. These are the type of guys who don't show up for work the day after they get paid because they were living it up the night before. This just helped Dick keep them under his thumb. Some of these guys worked for both companies working days and nights and doing sloppy work at both. I quickly became Dick's right hand man on the sprinkler side of things. His companies were rather small at the time and he was operating on a cash basis giving out 1099s at the end of the year. We weren't eligible for unemployment during the Winter months because he wasn't paying in, so he offered to "bank" our overtime and pay it to us in the off season... but only as straight time. No time and a half. I was buying into all this because I liked Dick and the work (though often wet and muddy) wasn't all that strenuous.
Dick ran one truck and I ran another. If guys were available we each might have a helper, but often not. While winterizing one house I notice a very large number of repairs that would be needed in the Spring and made a note of it to Dick. When we started turning on systems the next season I reminded Dick of that house and he asked if I remembered which one it was. Of course, he hadn't written it down when I told him in the fall, so we were going to have to wing it. Late one day I pulled up with my helper and realized my nightmare had arrived. It was six o'clock and I pleaded with Dick to reschedule. He refused. I argued I wasn't even getting paid overtime. He called me every name in the book. I threatened to call the labor board. He told me if I didn't turn it on and fix it all right then and there I would be fired. My helper and I were there until after dark working by moonlight and flashlight, but we got it done. Dick felt it was an object lesson of his mantra "No excuses, only results." I felt it was an object lesson that he was a complete douchebag asshole. Still, I was up before the sun the next day ready to do it all over again.
At nine o'clock that very next morning as I was in the middle of another big job with two helpers (One of which was Don who plays a part later in the story...) I got a call from Dick saying he'd spoken with his accountant and wasn't going to put up with me threatening to call the labor board. Holy SHIT! I thought... Dick was talking about going legit!
He told me that from now on he was going to pay time and a half for overtime and in the Winter we would be able to collect unemployment. There was a catch though... The extra expenditures meant he wasn't going to be able to pay us the same rates we'd been getting. We were all getting pay cuts. I could understand the logic in this and saw that in the long run it was beneficial to all of us. I agreed and we almost had a deal until he dropped the other shoe... He wanted to pay me time and a half for the over 50 hours of overtime I had currently "banked" at my new lower pay rate. I said, "Fuck that!" He argued it was still more than I would have got if paid straight during next winter, but I refused. We were at an impasse. I told him I could not accept a retroactive pay cut. I worked those hours for an agreed rate and I wasn't going to bend. He told me I could always quit, so I did.
I told my helpers to pack up everything and put it back in the truck. I apologized to the customer and told him Dick would call to reschedule the work very soon, or perhaps these two would be back to finish. I went back to the shop and left two green boys with the company van and phone and wished them luck. Dick was livid, but after speaking again with his accountant and another labor board threat, I got every dime that was owed to me. I asked Dick if I could come back to work now, but he told me not until he got "his" money back. It wasn't his of course, but he didn't like that I'd won the power struggle.
A few months later he tried to get me to come back, but I had moved on. I washed my hands of it and only thought of Dick when telling the tale, usually over beers. Years later I met a guy socially who was wearing one of Dick's company shirts. I asked him if he worked there and he said, "Yes." I asked him if he got paid for his overtime and he said, "Sure..." as if it were an odd question. I asked him if he got UI in the Winter and a bit perplexed he said, "Of course!". I told him, "You're welcome" and told him the rest of the story.
Fast forward to last Spring and I had been getting the run around from another company for over a month waiting for the first work of the new season. When they finally called me in during the first week in May it was to tell me in person that I would not be retained for the new season. I was in a bind. My bills had piled up over the Winter even with part-time work doing invasive tree removal for a local nature conservancy with NoMoreLies. I called Dick and had a job the very next day.
I had to start at the bottom, but worked my way up in no time flat. Dick had expanded to 5 trucks, but his employees were the same type of losers he always hired. Leading them as Dick's right hand was my old helper, the green rookie Don I left with a confused look on his face 8 years earlier. I found there were some things I'd forgotten, but I had other skills these youngsters lacked and a work ethic not seen at the company since my departure all those years ago.
I would never claim to be God's gift to anything, but there is a distinct possibility that I was born to operate a shovel. Strange as it seems I really enjoy doing it, and have never met ANYONE who does it as well as I. I've been called a human backhoe. Back in the Marines I was the go to guy for fighting holes. While the rest of the guys would give it their best with their E-tools (a small folding shovel) I would track down one of the real shovels that used to be strapped to every one of the old Willys Jeeps. My buddies loved me because I told them to just step back and let me do my thing. I come from a long line of miners and farmers. I grew up on my grandparents farm and developed a strong back and a smooth and easy style while cleaning stalls, loading manure spreaders, and scooping grain. These kids can't come close. I've also noticed they lack skills sweating copper pipes, making solid wire connections, pushing wheelbarrows, pitching trenches, and raking mulch (I still haven't perfected that art form. I am in awe of the Mexican workers I've seen do it with ease in the past.) Another talent I excel at is filling a hole back in and replacing the sod so you can barely tell I was digging there. A week afterward the grass repairs itself and you couldn't tell I was working there at all. These kids leave an unholy mess when they walk away from a repair with dirt fanned out around the hole like rays from a crater.
This though is one of the areas with which Dick has some trouble with me. My meticulous way do doing things doesn't really fit in with his business model of maximum profits in minimum time. He favors those that bring him the most money. These younger guys do this by doing a half assed job and charging for stuff that customers didn't need and sometimes didn't even get. I've let him know and he chooses not to believe or care.
Customers usually never know because they don't come out and watch their systems being serviced. When the technician is done most all the work is buried in the ground and invisible. Also, sprinklers are usually set to run in the early morning hours when there's little chance of anyone being awake and they're scheduled to finish before people have their morning shower. Customers rarely see them run unless they turn them on manually themselves during the day. A customer won't even realize something is wrong unless they see an exceedingly wet or yellow section if their yard. Even then it's another service charge and a claim by Dick (backed up by his boys) that it was all working fine when the system was turned on. Like I said, it's a profitable business model and there's practically zero oversight and accountability. Plus, even in an economic downturn wealthy people still want their grass to be the greenest on the block. Dick might as well be printing money.
That's not me though. I'm thorough and give customers what they need and pay for. A well maintained sprinkler system should last for decades. A poorly maintained one will always require repairs. Again, it's a profitable business model, but it's why I wouldn't be successful going into business on my own. Another "strike" against me with Dick is that I fully acknowledge and accept responsibility for my mistakes which these younger guys aren't mature enough to do. They will lie and deny and try to cover up their mistakes and point the finger at someone else just like Dick does. It doesn't register with Dick though, he just equates me with mistakes.
So here I am, still not sure what to do. I didn't call Dick last night, and didn't go to work today. I spent my morning getting this story off my chest and out of my system. I'm pretty sure all my options are still open. If I do return the balance of my uniforms (4 t-shirts and a windbreaker) I sure as hell won't be washing them first. I do have some alternatives to going back to work for Dick. I might go work for the guy NoMoreLies subcontracts for occasionally, but he seemed to scream at his crew unnecessarily the one time I tagged along to help with a controlled burn last month. There's a tree service where Dick gets his mulch from that's hiring. The job I'm going to go for first is at the custom stair shop right behind my apartment complex. I've spoken with the owner once or twice and watched him interact with some of his employees once before. He seems much more amicable.
Maybe I'll contact one of those small business development organizations that linc pointed me to last night for help starting my own karaoke company. Perhaps a gofundme page is in my future. Maybe someone will one day hire me to write for a living. Who knows. My future is wide open. Anything could happen.