Saturday, April 09, 2011

Missed relief

Horrible dream this morning.
......That I had “slipped” a relief.
For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service (RTS) in Rochester, NY, a public employer, the transit-bus operator in Rochester and its environs. My stroke October 26, 1993 ended that.
A “slip” was to fail to show up on time for work.
There were two kinds of slips:
-1) To fail to report on time to pull a bus out, and
-2) To miss relieving a driver already driving a bus, who was to be replaced by you. (Some buses ran all day.)
My missed relief came from confusion which set in -a) since my stroke, and -b) since my retirement from bus-driving.
Such confusion never occurred during my employ. I never “slipped” once. —I was supremely conscientious.
I’d schedule things so slipping couldn’t occur.
Although I tried awful hard once.
It started pouring rain as I got out my motorcycle.
I had to park it and get in my car.
I made my show-up with seconds to spare.
If you were a second late for a show-up, you slipped.
Which may seem ridiculous, but I felt it eminently fair.
It took possible management favoritism out of the equation.
In this morning’s dream, I showed up at management’s window to get transfers for my relief.
Transfers were tiny pieces of paper a driver issued to passengers for a nickel or dime extra.
They entitled that passenger to transfer to another bus without paying additional bus-fare.
My relief was a run I hated.
A slow sojourn out into the western suburbs with horrible equipment, aging and unreliable.
Equipment prone to breakdown, which I abhorred.
There was confusion on my part, like when I was supposed to make the relief.
As I say, confusion like this never occurred during my employ.
I was over an hour off (late) — I had “slipped” the relief.
A typical management goon, prone to elitism, told me we needed a “consult.”
We bus-drivers were unionized; management and union were always at war.
I was dragged into a tiny office to face the goon at his desk — this was what was known as “getting called on-the-carpet.”
I failed to get union representation to go in with me; an angle I knew I should have done from my involvement with the Union.
A union-rep was always on-the-property to accompany union employees before management.
But you had to ask for union representation.
Over 16&1/2 years I got called-on-the-carpet a few times, but charges weren’t serious.
A missed relief was.
The management goon could go ballistic; he might even fire me.
I mentioned the source of my confusion; the fact I had driven the run only a few times.
But management loved to pillory union-employees, or so it seemed.
Like we union-employees were the scum of the earth — an outcome of the wars.

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1 Comments:

Blogger camerabanger said...

It is interesting to see someone else's reality. I can tell you liked to work and were the kind of employee a company would want. It would be good if 1) everyone was that way and 2) they were appreciated and rewarded justly.
I look forward to reading more.

6:48 PM  

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