Coutta’s Cut: Snowflakes and peacocks

I’m getting a bit concerned. For about five months now no one has written to the editor complaining about the content of my articles. This must be for one of the following reasons: everyone agrees with me, which I find highly unlikely; there are no left leaning readers, which I find just as unlikely; or that everyone just sees the byline, thinks, “I can’t be bothered with this bullshit,” and turns the page.

If this is indeed the case, perhaps you should all write to Crimpy, which will probably result in him terminating my employment, which in turn will save him the exorbitant fee he pays me each month. I’m surprised he could afford to go to Alaska.

Bloody near every week, at some point on the news, there’s a report of someone either being bullied or being a bully. When I was a kid, which admittedly was a long time ago, a bully was normally another kid who was bigger and tougher than the others.

After I left school at 16 and entered the workforce, which I wrongly thought was to earn for myself and not to pay for those who didn’t have the same ethic, I came to realise there were a few teachers who fitted the description as well. Cane happy pricks. Now though, a bully can be anyone from a strict parent to an employer who, quite rightfully, asks for a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay from staff.

Okay, as I think I’ve mentioned before, I’m getting a bit long in the tooth and, consequently, have worked in a lot of jobs under a lot of bosses. In my last job, I commented on the number of staff who arrived five minutes on the wrong side of start time. It appeared to be quite acceptable. I was responsible for half a dozen staff, all of whom were under no illusions that the start time meant that, not five minutes after. They were okay with that. Probably because I told them about when I was 17 or 18 working on a construction site, my boss didn’t thank me for turning up on time or ask me nicely if I wouldn’t mind with my day’s work.

It was more like, “Get your arse up to the third level and frame up the changing rooms and have it done by smoko.”

Today he would be a bully, back then just a boss making sure his staff delivered. In my last job I was a unit supervisor in the local government. A young guy was successful in securing a vacancy in my unit from another within the organisation. He was a decent kid apart from the bright red punk/Mohawk haircut. I mentioned to HR this would have to go and they made noises that were almost human.

“You can’t do that; it could be seen as bullying.”

So, I tried diplomacy and said, “There’s no way you’re wearing my unit’s uniform looking like a f#@*ing peacock.”

The haircut went and he didn’t complain I was a bully, quite the opposite.

Okay, there are genuine cases of bullying but to all those snowflakes who get offended when a voice is raised or they must do something they don’t like, swallow some concrete pills and harden the f#@* up.

Share this post :


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Create a new perspective on life

Your Ads Here (365 x 270 area)
Latest Stories

Subscribe our newsletter

Subscribe to our newsletter to get the latest updates direct to your inbox.


Subscribe to our newsletter to get the latest updates direct to your inbox.