It's 9AM

How do you breathe up there?

Chris Lowry

Nov 06, 2023

“You’re breathing my air!” he screamed at us.

Screamed at me.

He was a sales manager and he was motivating us.

Or trying to.

He was not a very good leader, though when it came to paperwork, he was on point.

And the head shed upstairs liked paperwork.

The data suggested that we should all be doing .9 more per day.

Spread across almost 100 people.

And we were not.

So he was getting pressure from above about performance.

And we all know which direction shi… pressure rolls.

His solution was to harass and harangue.

If you stopped “smiling and dialing” after 30 seconds, his laptop pinged as your name turned red and here he would come across the room asking why you weren’t “working.”

It was not fun.

And on one particular day, when the pressure was very high going down, he called us together for a huddle and commenced yelling.

At me.

The problems starts with eye contact.

And my face.

Because of how I grew up, I keep eye contact.

It’s a fighter’s move, because if you watch someone’s eyes, you can predict some of what they’re going to do.

Step dad liked to play a game called “Toughen up, you pussy” and watching his eyes told me where his fists might go next.

Trying to anticipate and figure it out.

A trait I carried with me into adulthood.

I watch people, make a lot of eye contact because in some part of the brain, it triggers the “predator-prey” instinct.

Someone thinking of doing something may not because you’re watching.

And my face is set in sort of a permanent state of fuck around and find out.

Part of it is genetics. It’s just my face.

Part of it is the hairline heading south by way of back of my skull.

The more forehead I get, the more I look like I’m scowling for some reason.

So the yelling man locked eyes with me and kept on yelling.

Today, they call it being triggered.

But he spit on me.

On accident, I know.

Now.

Just spittle flying from his mouth, because he was afraid of losing his job, and we were the reason he was going to lose it.

He yelled, and spit on me and took a breath, which made him pause.

And I said, “If you yell at me again, you won’t be able to speak for a month.”

It shut him up.

It probably would have been a one on one conversation, had it just been us.

It probably wouldn’t have been so bad, if a few Army guys in the group didn’t go “oooooohh.”

But he said, “Go to HR.”

And I said, “Come and get me when you’re ready.”

HR was a guy who moved up from our Ft Lauderdale office and didn’t know everybody yet.

He asked why I threatened my superior.

I answered I didn’t.

He said they had witnesses.

I said I didn’t have a superior in the building and that as an HR rep he should be more careful with his word choices.

Which got his boss called up from Lauderdale because I was a problem.

On the phone, I explained that as grown up’s in a work environment, there is zero reason to yell.

I explained that as grown ups in a work environment, there is zero reason to spit on people.

I also explained that if they were unable to find someone who could deal with pressure while maintaining a hard charge momentum, that they should either train him better or find another manager.

Which led to a write up.

My first of several.

A 90 Day write up is a beautiful thing.

It is a first warning, which then can be used to get you fired, because they document every indiscretion or violation of rules, regulation and procedure.

Back from break or lunch one minute late? That’s a write up.

Didn’t use proper protocol with Coast Guard? That’s a write up.

In red too many times a day? That’s a write up.

A 90 Day means you’re one foot out of the door.

Because “this company” had a zero tolerance for threats, but an unstated large tolerance for “verbal abuse.”

I got a second write up a few days later for a “training violation.”

We had been taught one thing in training, but a new way of doing it had come down the pipe, and it was my responsibility to be aware of the changes and execute them. I failed to do so.

Now I will admit it was literally a waiting game.

I knew I was going to be fired.

It was just a matter of when.

And Corporate has to document everything for a “just in case” basis.

Lawsuits. Employment claims. Just classic cover your ass boilerplate.

“See, we gave him every opportunity to make corrections. It’s all written down.”

I’m normally in the job early, twenty minutes or so to get coffee and get set up for the day.

But I drove by the University of Central Florida to get there, and there was a bad wreck.

A couple car pile up with a couple students dead.

It is stupid to try and beat a yellow light turning red, especially into oncoming traffic.

But it shut the road down until a wrecker could come clear it, and we were grid locked.

Which made me five minutes late for work and sent straight to HR for the third and final write up leading to termination.

But instead of our HR rep, the VP was in the office, along with the HR Director.

He had heard about the way we were treated, and asked why I stood up for everyone.

I didn’t clarify that it wasn’t for everyone, it was for me, but the three of us had a long conversation of almost an hour discussing things.

Like how morale affects performance, how to train people to expectation and then get out of their way. How sometimes rules and regulations designed to make sure we stay safe as a company can then be used as tools against that company by moving people out of the door when they are considered a threat to the status quo.

How the status quo is a death knell for a company to grow.

At the end, they pulled in the Director and HR rep for a longer conversation.

I got my third and last write up for the company, which expired with nothing happening after 90 Days.

Except…

A new guy moved up from Lauderdale into an Executive Director position, and he took over the day to day for a while, or directed the Directors on how they should interact at work.

More training.

After that, the air was a lot easier to breathe.