First of all, it is important to note that the WHS Pimp has Muttons.
…Not the kind of exaggerated sideburn that Elvis rocked in the ’70′s. The “old school” kind of muttons, that your Great Grandpappy rocked in like the Civil War.
His muttons mean biz’ness.
…They take up nearly all his cheeks, bushing out in varying lengths depending on the season, a careful and precise trim to accent the jaw line below, with a 5 o’clock shadow on upper lip and chin, in between. In short, if you went about three days past “Wolverine,” but kept it manicured, you’d just about nail it.
Now, I dunno if you realize this, but it takes a face to pull that off. Your average dude can’t just yank this one outta his back pocket and saunter down main street while rockin’ it. It takes a certain je ne sais quoi…a generous amount of mountain-man meet old timey gravitas. A face that tells a history. It takes someone with an intriguing demeanor, who looks like they could go from “jolly” to “kill a man,” in almost nothing flat.
…Like a Hell’s Angel on a “Toys for Tots” run.
This, is the WHS Pimp.
…And though by “casting type” he fulfills all the above-said requirements, the dude is one of the funniest, easiest going humans…in the world. So accomidating, and such the “good guy” that he (like most “good guys”) consistently gets fucked for it, (in all the wrong ways), by the people he stands by and bends over backwards to help, the most.
…Namely: Boss n’ the Builder Bunnies.
WHS Pimp, is the kind of dude that will take shit n’ make gold with it, for reasons surpassing understanding. (While I just throw it back at people, like a primate in a cage.)
…And today…the poo flew.
It flew big time.
…From three hours BEFORE the office opened, until the MOMENT it closed.
Today was the kind of day where NOTHING goes right. Weekend contractor accidents screwed up weeks of schedules, with people now in casts…already booked up a month in advance, road shows backed up in Customer Service, Shipping fucked up container load deliveries, Inventory reallocated our own stock to other branches without asking, Contractors went MIA, and customers and Corporate stormed with screaming freak-outs, as we were on the phones doing our best to adjust the schedules accordingly.
…By nine o’clock, we had blown through an entire pot of coffee and felt like we’d already been at the day for 15 hours. By ten, we were volunteering to swap departmental homicides and make it look like an accident. By ten-thirty, we were making suicide packs.
…And then, something happened that in over a year of knowing WHS Pimp, I have never seen. Not even once.
(…And you must understand, we’ve seen about every “low” that either one of us could possibly have. Because this is the kind of place which brings out the absolute, psychotically, pissed-off, ridiculously worst in EVERYBODY.)
…But, in ALL of that time…
…With ALL of the things I have seen…
…Through ALL of the shit-storms…
…I had never witnessed WHS Pimp bust out into “Wolverine.”
Until today.
It took roughly three hours of non-stop, antagonism from Corporate, Traffic, Customers, Boss and non-stop phones and emails to bring him to the brink, the absolute edge of the precipice…when then: the wrong Contractor, picked the wrong time, to go “Build a Bitch” in his office.
…Not an irregularity. It’s what this guy routinely does. And what’s more, what he does EVERY Monday, while WHS is busy loading him up for his full week of building. This has never changed. No one expected it ever would. But today…today, this Builder Bunny had picked the wrong day to play his “pitty me” record.
Suddenly, with a growling BOOM, the office just beside me, went off like a hydrogen bomb.
…And being as it was Monday, and being as it was that same dick head complaining about the same things…being as we were swamped with phone calls that just never ceased, and Boss was (again) MIA, and people were literally waiting in LINE to scream at us some more, for things we had zero power to control. Being, as it was the first time, after over a YEAR of goddamn infuriating accommodations, making gold out of shit being thrown at him, for the zillionth time…
…The satisfaction of sitting, in total silence, muting incoming phone calls, and listening to the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius, just there beside me…aimed at full force on this guy, was about the goodest thing to happen within those office walls since…oh…since the invention of “ever.”
It was a fury. It was non-negotiable. It was terrifying. It was something never witnessed from him before. Aimed at a person, who had WELL earned it, with interest payments, going back across at least 16 months of time.
It was…
Hawt.
As hell.
…In that so thoroughly enjoyable, “seeing-karma-come-uppance-at last” kind of way, that mostly only happens in movies.
So, I shut up, and just enjoyed it.
…And the Builder Bunny eventually exited (as dismissed to, in no uncertain terms.)
…And I continued on with my paperwork, and answered a few more screaming phone calls, yet managed strangely enough, to smile all throughout.
After a while, WHS Pimp emerged from his cave, a bit of growl left, but not much. And I looked up.
WHS Pimp: Sorry ’bout that.
Me: –Nope.
WHS Pimp: Weren’t on a customer call I hope.
Me: –Uh uh.
WHS Pimp: So, we might have another issue to deal with.
Me: –Kay.
WHS Pimp: Down another Contractor, could be.
Me: –Right.
WHS Pimp: But I got an idea for cover.
Me: –Kay.
WHS Pimp: I’m just gonna sit here for a bit and cool off…
Me: –Right.
WHS Pimp: Then maybe see…
Me: –Uh huh.
WHS Pimp: So, we’re on the same page, then.
(Long beat.)
WHS Pimp: So. Anyway. Yeah.
(He turns to exit back into his office.)
Me: Mad-Fucking-Awesome-Unbelievable.
(He stops.)
WHS Pimp: Boss is gonna freak.
Me: Yep.
WHS Pimp: Then, what?
Me: He’ll get over it. And ass-hat over there with either build or not. The world doesn’t end.
WHS Pimp: Kay.
(He goes back to his desk . It’s quiet for a bit.)
Me: (Hollaring from my office.) Freakin.’ Awesome. You’re my hero, man!
(From the other office, a very slight chuckle can be heard. As if: he knows it.)
~D
