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Marlboro Slavery

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Marlboro Slavery

 

By David Jensen

 

Copyright 2017 by David Jensen

 

Shakespir Edition

 

This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Shakespir Edition License Notes

Thank you for downloading this e-book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

 

 

 

 

Marlboro Slavery

 

Gerald had been smoking cigarettes since the age of Fourteen years old. And although he had often thought of quitting the habit, the simple fact was that he enjoyed smoking! Some like to have a beer after work, or a glass wine at their favorite Italian restaurant, and others like to get totally blind smashed on the weekends. There are even coffee addicts! So since it would seem that everybody has their own vices and hang-ups and because Gerald stayed abstinent from alcohol and drugs, then why not smoke? As long as one respects the rights of non-smokers, abstain from smoking at the table while others eat, or blowing smoke in another persons face during a conversation. Gerald was respectful towards all the non-smokers at the company where he worked. And then a few of the militant non-smokers decided to start a campaign against smoking, but the results of that campaign, supported by the Companies Management and the Union Representative backfired. And for all parties involved, Management, Union Representative, smokers and non-smokers alike, it ended up as one big headache and a reason to figuratively divide the company up into three categorical groups.

The Management decided on a plan, with the agreement of the Union Representative, that smoking would be prohibited inside of all buildings. Smokers were now relegated to go outside to the specially constructed `Smokers Bus Stops’, regardless of the weather conditions. But in the agreement with the Union, people like Gerald didn’t have to punch out on the time clock to take a cigarette break. The problem arose that everybody who worked at a computer terminal had a right to a five minute break every hour, on company time. In those break periods they could smoke, if they choose to. So the Union stated that although smokers had to go outside, production workers had the same right to not loose pay when they took a smoking break. Smoking was also allowed when walking between the different buildings.

So it split the company into groups of smokers that take a paid break from production, non-smokers who didn’t get a paid break and had to continue working while others stood outside smoking, and the minority group of non-smoking workers which stayed neutral or simply didn’t care one way or the other.

Gerald fit into the first group. Those who smoke and had to go outside, but it wouldn’t have mattered much to him in the long run, because his job was such that he spent half the day working outside anyways. As soon as the new compliance came into effect, it was only a matter of days before it started. At first when the bullying started, it was brought on as if in a joke, and Gerald went with the jokes. Non-smokers would walk by when he was taking a legitimate break in the Bus Stop and suddenly start slapping at their wrist, as if they were wearing a wristwatch, and saying loudly; “Hello!” But with increasing earnestness, it became less of a joke and more or less bullying out of jealousy. They had to continue work and the others had a legitimate reason to escape the skull drudgery of work, at least for a few minutes.

It started to turn bad for Gerald when he was warned by the union representative that someone was filing complaints with them that he was spending too much time outside, and was smoking more than the others. Both of the complaints were based on a personal opinion and not on facts, Gerald had told them. Gerald requested the name of the person complaining and was told that the name had to be withheld from him due to the confidentiality rule of the union. But it continued, and whoever it was apparently was on a quest to slander his name and the union was obligated to follow up on all complaints.

Then the management decided to outsource his job to a subcontractor. Although he didn’t have to worry about his being further employed at the company, due to his contract, the personnel office wanted to do a revision of his pay grade. This was also no problem for Gerald, as he was now in the age group that guaranteed his pay grade under the union’s contract with the company, until he decided to go into retirement. So he gave it no thought when the meeting with the manager, his foreman, and the union representative took place. The manager asked why the meeting was taking place because Gerald could not be reduced in his monthly pay. He said that making a new job description is only a waste of time and a lot of red tape. That was when his foreman spoke up and mentioned the fact that somebody was continually making complaints to the union representative. He was concerned about it and wanted it to stop. But then the union representative figuratively threw a hand grenade into the talks.

“Yeah, Gerald, you know that we have warned you about smoking during working hours. My colleague and I have warned you many times since the new compliance rule came into effect.” Gerald was flabbergasted at what he had just said, because instead of helping Gerald, a union member, he was apparently taking sides and helping the manager. Gerald’s foreman looked as dumbstruck as Gerald felt. The union representative’s statement was tantamount to loading a pistol and giving it to the manager, for as much help as he was. The manager started asking questions about Gerald’s private life, which had nothing to do with the subject at hand, and it started to agitate Gerald. Then the manager offered him a large sum of money to cancel his contract with the company.

With his job balancing on thin ice, (or so he thought, due to the implications from the manager and the antipathy of the union representative), Gerald agreed to only smoke during the morning and lunch breaks. This he did because he thought they had a legitimate reason for a termination of his contract.

A whole week passed and Gerald stood by his word by only smoking during the meal breaks. But it aggravated him, for now he seen and started to keep mental track of how often all the other workers were smoking during the working hours. Then on Friday came the straw that broke the camels back.

Gerald’s production manager and the manager were returning from their extended lunch break, and were walking past the building when Gerald came out. Gerald asked the colleagues which were standing outside of the building, (smoking cigarettes of course!), if they had seen any of the workers from the company that was now doing Gerald’s old job. Nobody had seen them as of late, so Gerald decided to walk over to the other building to find them. The manager seen Gerald and started to slap his wristwatch, saying; “Hello Gerald. The break time has been over for quite a while!” This bothered Gerald just a little, and he replied; “I know that!” Gerald stopped walking and turned to watch the two walk farther, and seen the manager say something to the production manager. They both started to laugh and turned to look at Gerald, and seeing that he was watching them, laughed again. It was, (as Gerald perceived it), the epitome of bullying. And from the management level!

It was almost quitting time anyways, so Gerald left for home. Because he just couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. It nagged on him the whole weekend, which was cause for two almost sleepless nights. On Monday, he reported the incident to his foreman. Who was also speechless when he heard what had happened. That very day, an appointment was made with the head of the union at the company. Upon hearing about the meeting on Monday, where his colleague dropped the bomb on Gerald, and what had transpired on Friday, he sank his head to the table. Shaking his head from side to side, he must have thought this was some kind of nightmare. But the nightmare belonged to Gerald, and he said that it cannot continue like it is going at the present time. Gerald also stated that he almost gets a panic attack now when he has to go between buildings, for fear that one of the managers might come to the wrong conclusion about why he is outside. This statement really got the foreman’s fire started, and he told the Union Representative that Gerald doesn’t smoke any more or less than all the others in the company. He also stated that if Gerald did take too many cigarette breaks, then it was his job to jump into Gerald’s shit, and not the job of anybody else. He said that it cannot be that Gerald is scared to do the jobs that needed to be done outside, this whole thing is getting totally blown out of proportion, and it stops right here and now. The Union Boss was in total agreement. He and the foreman told Gerald that what he had to promise the manager was illegal, and he can take a cigarette break like everybody else. A heavy weight fell from Gerald’s shoulders as he left the Union office, and again could go happily about his work, for he enjoyed doing his new job. Two days later, during the lunch break, Gerald was in the Smokers Bus Stop with all the others. Suddenly the manager walked past, and his burning look could have toasted a man standing in his shoes.

Why the mean look? Gerald was on his lunch break. And he also had a notion that the Union Boss just maybe had a little man to man talk with him about the abominable situation. But unfortunately the situation got worse.

A little over two weeks had gone by without any further incidents, till one day as Gerald was driving the forklift from one building to another; the manager had stopped and was glaring at him the whole time Gerald was in his line of vision. Just the fact that the manager was staring at him really pissed Gerald off, but then staying calm, decided that he could stare as much as he pleased.

Then it really escalated later on in the day when Gerald was standing at the cashier and the lady was running his goods over the scanner. She came to the cigarettes (five packs, of which only two belonged to Gerald and the other three were for other family members and a neighbor), and just as she had finished running them over the scanner, some non-smoker made a snide comment from behind him in the waiting line. “All of that smoking is dangerous to ones health!” On a normal day when Gerald was in a good mood, he would not even give it a second thought, but he was still agitated from earlier on at work, and before he even started to turn around to meet his aggressor, he had already started to lay out the facts; “Then why don’t everyone quit and we double the income tax rate to make up for the lose of taxes!” He was already turned to face the others in the waiting line and seen the manager with a hateful ‘Garfield-Style’ grin on his face, and that was when Gerald recognized the voice. He still was going to let it go by, but the manager wasn’t finished yet. “I got a real good suggestion for you. Why don’t we simply fire all the smokers in the company and really save lots of money?” He asked as he smirked. “And why don’t you go to hell?” Gerald said as he turned once again towards the cashier. “What did you just say?” The manager asked. Gerald turned around and in a split second realized that from the distance between them, he more than likely didn’t hear it clearly, and said; “I said why don’t you go get help?” They both stared at each other as if in some kind of mental war, then the manager said; “I believe we need to talk further about this next week at work!” Gerald answered; “And I believe you should keep your nose out of my private affairs!” The manager was now getting a red face and said; “I’ll put my nose into your private affairs as much as I please!” That was the worst thing he could have said at the moment and somewhere deep down inside of Gerald, something clicked. With an overly friendly smile on his face and a feeling of calm superiority, Gerald answered; “Ditto!” He swiped his bank card over the TeleCash and went to his car to pack his stuff into the bags. After he was finished, he just sat there and listened to ZZ Top playing La Grange, smoking a cigarette, and watching the doors of the store. The manager came out, packed his stuff into the trunk of his Mercedes, and raced out of the parking lot. Gerald noticed that the manager was way too elite to utilize a normal parking space, but instead, he parked alongside the building so he can race off to where ever he lived. How ignorant can one be to park next to the building where the people have to then walk around his car to enter the store? “Well if the shoe fits then put it on!” Gerald said to Eminem, who was now rapping on about how shitty he thinks his life is.

Gerald had more than enough vacation days which he really didn’t need but had to use up, so he called his foreman and said that he needed the next week off to repair some water line that had burst at his house. And then he planned for his observation next week. With his mental plan in place he went to another store to buy drinks, cookies and chips. With that stored in a box on the back seat of his car, he went to the bank to withdraw some cold hard cash and then to the hardware store to purchase the things he would be needing to teach a lesson in humility.

After a whole week of observation, the back part of his car looked like some homeless man had lived in it for a month. Although the homeless don’t usually have over thirty returnable bottles of Red Bull strewed all over the floorboard and back seat, the rest of the leftover wrappers and packages were a good sign that somebody was residing in the car instead of an apartment. He had at first written everything down but after three days he quit taking notes and instead, he stored the manager’s itinerary in his grey matter, which is the only safe place to keep secrets. Saturday evening he parked the car and had only wanted to lie on the couch in the living room to rest for a few minutes before he started to clean out the garbage dump which was behind the driver’s seat and now ebbing slowly forwards towards the front passenger seat. When he woke up the sun was already high in the sky, so he took his coffee out to the car and even though it was Sunday at eleven in the morning, he started to get the car into a civilized state before going to work on Monday. Yes, Monday is also one of the days that the Boss goes shopping before racing out of the parking lot, and Gerald was going to do the first hit tomorrow afternoon.

 

Monday

“Well, did you get your water pipes fixed?” His foreman asked bright and early on Monday at just a little past six o’clock. Gerald looked at him and then he remembered the lie to get the week off for vacation. “Yeah I did.” Gerald answered. “Well it must have been a pretty tough job because you look like the cat dragged you in!” The foreman said and laughed as he walked away. Gerald’s body was feeling shitty from lack of sleep the past week, but his mind and his plan were sharp, and he just couldn’t wait till for it to be quitting time.

He waited in the car and listened to the radio, but now the volume was turned down so that he could concentrate and also not draw any unwanted attention to himself. Those who looked at him had seen only a man who was checking the grocery list before entering the store. From his position he had a great view of the side of the store and still, was pretty much hidden from the stores windows because of the shopping cart stall with its plastic sides and roofing. There were some kids hanging around their parked bicycles at the bike rack that were passing around a big size bottle of cola and they were munching on some snacks one of them had bought. Boss man came roaring into the parking lot and as usual, parked in his ‘Elite’ parking spot next to the wall of the store. As he got out of the car, Gerald had to laugh at the paunch beer-gut that the Boss drags around with him, and then he really wondered how he got that huge belly behind the steering wheel of the Mercedes! At the very moment that he went into the stores automatic door, Gerald was already out of the car with both of his utensils in his vest pockets, and walked nonchalantly towards the Mercedes. As he started to pass the bike rack, the remaining kid yelled at the others who had left him behind. “Hey, won’t you all wait up for me?” Then he cursed the lock which he had so much problem opening; “You’re going in the damn trash can because I’ve had enough of this shit!” An idea hit Gerald at the same time as the kid got his lock finally opened, and he said; “I’ll give you ten dollars for the lock, which is a pretty good deal since you were going to throw it away anyways!” The kid jumped at the deal and said; “Sure thing man! But seriously, it’s a piece of crap because even with the correct combination it’s so hard to get it opened!” “That’s no problem because it will go on the ladder to be chained to the apple tree, and a lock that’s hard to open is hard to find nowadays.” Gerald said and pushed the ten into the kids’ hand. The kid raced off to catch up to the others who were more than likely already in town by now, and Gerald made an itsy-bitsy change to his plans for today. After he was finished, he was back in the car after only four minutes! He started the car and moved to the rear entrance of the parking lot where he again parked to get a good view. He then sat back to watch the show which would unfold, and as he waited, he slowly rotated the spray can of WD-40 between his hands to calm the intense excitement of what was to come.

Big beer belly Boss man came out of the store, hurrying along faster than his normal waddle, and like lots of times Gerald had observed, was apparently arguing on his cell phone. When he got in, he started already to drive out of his space, talk on his cell phone, and attempting to buckle his seat belt, all at the same time. Then someone took just a little too long to maneuver into a parking spot and Boss man had to stop for a second and wait. His arrogance sounded loudly from the cars horn, and as soon as he could get by the other car, he shot forward towards the front entrance of the parking lot at full speed.

Gerald either imagined it or he actually heard it through his open window, for as Boss man raced out of the parking lot, the bike chain lock started to scrape paint and tear pieces off of the Mercedes’ fender! But of course that was to be expected, for Gerald had put the chain through the tires rim and laid the remainder of the chain on top of the tire, so it wouldn’t be seen immediately. Either Boss man had stomped on the brakes, or the chain had somehow gotten wrapped up on the brake saddle, or a combination of both, but when Boss man had brought the car to a stop, he had already hit one of the small trees decorating the entrance to the parking lot. The poor tree was leaning at a strange angle now as Boss man literally sprang out of the car and raced around to the damaged fender. Still with his cell phone glued to the lobe of his ear, he started to rant and rave as he seen the damage. And he most definitely seen the bike lock, for his head shot up and he glared with a red face straight at the bike rack by the store. Gerald watched astounded as he waved his hand at the bike rack while telling whoever, just what had happened, and in his fury, he threw his cell phone onto the hard cement. Gerald nearly wet his pants as he laughed at the Boss, and then said; “Wait till it gets warmer starting tomorrow and you’ll slowly get your next surprise!” For not only had he bike-chained the tire rim, he had also mashed some cheese into the ventilation grating of the car. It was a piece of Vacherin cheese, and even newly purchased, it smelled like a soiled baby’s diaper. But the best part is that the older (and warmer) the Vacherin gets, the stronger the smell of ammonia due to microorganism activity in the cheese. As the cheese gets warmed up, it will sicker into the whole heating and cooling system, which means he won’t be able to use either. Gerald slowly drove home and listened to Kate Bush singing in her strange dialect about running up some hill.

Tuesday

Gerald had to help out with moving a small Milling machine down into the underground parking garage at work, and he had an intensive itch inside to walk over to where the Boss man parked his Mercedes. But that would look suspicious so he decided not to scratch the itch. When they were finished pushing the machine from the freight elevator across the cement parking spaces and finally had it placed against a far wall, they started to jack it up to take the rollers out from underneath and set it onto wood planks till it would be sold to another small company. That was when the house custodian was making his rounds and seen the Mercedes. Gerald watched him carefully while laying the wood planks underneath the Mill. The custodian called us over to look at the car, and as we walked over he was laughing and said; “Take a look at this! The whole fender is ripped up and full of scratches, as if he tried to drive though a barbed wire fence or something!” Everybody was gathered around and Gerald’s itch was now finally subdued. It was absolutely super what damage a chain lock can do to a fender once it gets its velocity and starts slamming against the car. One of the others had already commented on how scratched up the tire rim was and as he looked farther under the fender, he seen the silver scratches on the black brake saddle from the disc brakes. “Oh my god! I’ve no idea what he got into but the saddle is also scraped up like hell!” He commented. “That would explain the dent in the front bumper. He must have had a locked up wheel!” The house custodian shook his head and said; “He’ll more than likely have to pay for the repair himself, being that it’s a company car, because I don’t see anything that speaks of an accident with another vehicle!” Gerald had a hard time keeping a sad face while at the same time he was pretty proud of his split second change of plans. And he wouldn’t wait long before he staged the next attack. For one thing he had learned many years ago while in training, and that was that you give your enemy no quarter, and attack mercilessly. Before they all started to walk away from the Mercedes, the custodian wrinkled his nose and asked one of the others; “God it stinks here! Did you just shit your pants full or what?” The other one gave him the middle finger and said; “Why don’t you go find a keyhole and use that miniature thing you got between your legs!”

Gerald was heading to the locker room to change into his civilian clothes when his company cell phone rang, and looking at the number, seen that it was the house custodian. Instead of answering, he decided to walk the thirty foot distance and went into his office. “What’s the problem? I was just going to go home!” The custodian sat at his computer and above it were four camera monitors with varying views of the underground garage and one of the double entrance gates for the company grounds. “You guys forgot to put the jacks and rollers back into the storage room.” He said. “You all just can’t leave your stuff lying all around without cleaning it up!” “And just what am I supposed to do?” Gerald asked, and at the same time was looking at the four monitors. What he noticed is that the three underground cameras only showed the recycling station, the fenced in storage area for all the drinks to fill the vending machines, and the freight elevator with the small personal elevator next to it. “Go down there and store the shit where it’s supposed to be! Not strewed around so that somebody sees it and I get my ass chewed out for it!” Gerald’s mind was now planning, so knowing how lazy the custodian is, he said; “You can come down with me and help if it bothers you so much!” “Nah, that’s not my job, you can do it all by yourself.” The custodian answered as he leaned back in his reclining office chair. Gerald’s mind was now really clicking, and he said; “You can swing those cameras and watch me bust my ass as I put the shit away. That way you don’t have to get out of your comfortable chair!” The custodian laughed and said; “Where do you think you’re working at, Google or something? Those are fixed position cameras and I almost had to get on my knees and beg for them! And anyways, it’s already past quitting time for me, so I’m going home!” With that he shut down the power for his computer, and Gerald had seen that the cameras were not independent of the computer, as all four monitors went black. As they walked out of the office and he locked his door, he turned and patted Gerald on the back and said in a sneering tone; “Have fun!” Gerald gave him a bad look so as to play the play, but inside he was smiling and thinking, “Oh yeah, I’ll have lots of fun, you fat walrus!” And before he went to store the stuff away, he made a detour to his car and procured what he needed to make today even better than Christmas!

 

Wednesday

Gerald drove in through the entrance gate at the company and seen the Mercedes was parked off the side of the street between the underground garage and the gate. He laughed as he told the radio, which was now playing a tune from Roxette; “I think I’m going to have an origami and wet my pants! Man that worked like a dream!” The Mercedes sat there as if somebody had pimped it to set so low to the ground, but that was due to the fact that all four tires were totally flat. Gerald had in the long week of observation, and while they all looked at the damage on the Mercedes while in the garage, that the Boss man had an affinity for parking in backwards, so that he could race away as soon as he had turned the keys. This was to Gerald’s advantage when he had propped up the four nails against the tires of the Mercedes yesterday afternoon. Gerald changed into his work clothes and then went into the custodian’s office to tell him that he had stored everything and now he was going down to sweep the area clean. As he was telling him this, he noticed one of the cameras moving.

“I thought you said that the cameras are in a fixed position?” Gerald asked and pointed at one of the monitors as it swung around to show the BMW from the Boss’s wife. “Yeah they are, but the Boss now wants one shining on his parking space because somebody pulled a real nasty trick on him yesterday as he was leaving work. Didn’t you see his car when you came to work? Four flat feet, and now he’s driving his wife’s car, so now he is scared that something will happen to it!” Gerald laughed and said; “I seen the car but in the dawns early light they all look the same to me. I think it is hilarious that we are afraid of him here at work, but apparently he don’t wear the pants in his own household!” Now they were both laughing and then the custodian asked; “You didn’t see anybody down there yesterday afternoon when you was taking care of that stuff, did you?” “Sure did! There was everybody from the early shift leaving and the second shift just coming in to park. There were people everywhere.” Gerald was glad that he thought about it last night, just in case anybody asked questions, although after the detour to his car, both shifts were gone from the garage already.

So Gerald went through the day with a wonderful attitude, and lots of his coworkers asked why he was in such a good mood. “Not a cloud in the sky and it’s so warm you can run around in a t-shirt! Don’t that just put a smile on anybodies face?” Gerald always gave as an answer. He even worked an hour overtime because he had lots of time till he had to be in place for the next attack. As he was slowly driving out of the company with all the windows open, the radio was playing AC DC screaming about ‘dirty deeds done dirt cheap’, and either it was a hallucination or he really could smell the Boss’s Mercedes getting ripe in the warm weather.

Gerald had rented a Fiat for the day, and coming home, he packed a few drinks, chocolate chip cookies, and the utensil he would hopefully need tonight. He had only observed for a week and he truly hoped that Boss man did the same thing every Wednesday evening. With the car packed, he ran back into the house to get his miniature Mp3 player and earphones. The Fiat was the cheapest model they had, and they maybe saved a dollar by not installing a radio in it. He drove off and later arrived at the shopping mall just a little past six in the evening. And if this was a weekly thing, the wife’s BMW would already be parked somewhere outside, for Gerald knew he was to tight-fisted to spend money on the parking house with its glaring lights and cameras. He started slowly driving through the lanes of parking spaces, starting with the first lane, and the cars that followed and parked in one of the many empty spots probably thought he was just a little eccentric for not taking the parking spots. After about ten lanes he found the car, and had to laugh at the Boss’s thinking that when one parks farther away, the car is safe. He parked next to the wife’s car, then after shutting the motor off, he put a disposable hospital surgical glove on his left hand. Getting out of the car with his left hand in his vest pocket, in case somebody should be looking, and the car keys in his right, he walked around the back and opened up the trunk of the car.

With the can in his left hand, he purposely dropped his keys in the direction of the BMW. Cursing loudly about how stupid and clumsy he was, he bent down behind the car, and shot a full load from the spray can into the exhaust pipe of the BMW. Then in one swift motion, he stood up while turning to his trunk, and let the can fall into the cardboard box he had prepared beforehand. The surgical glove was off and in the box in less than a second, and as he closed the trunk, he then picked up his rental key off the ground. Looking around as he got back into the car he noticed that all of his theatrical acting wasn’t even necessary as there wasn’t anybody in the general vicinity. He drove a complete circle around the shopping mall to deposit the box in the dumpster by the fast-food restaurant, (which was appropriate considering the crap they sell and calling it food!), and on the backside of the shopping mall he disposed of the surgical glove in one of the public garbage cans which wasn’t overflowing with empty fast-food packages, plastic drinking cups and straws. Wouldn’t be cool for them to find the glove with his DNA all over the inside of it! When that was finished, he parked up on the raised parking area which is where the store clerks are required to park their cars. With the motor now off and the earphones in place, he flipped through the play list on his player and stumbled upon a song that absolutely fit in the scheme of things. He tried to relax in the uncomfortably cheaply made seat of the Fiat and hit the play button. Queen started to sing about how ‘the show must go on!’, and in Gerald’s mind he could visualize fatty sitting with all of his elite friends in the middle of the mall and drinking expensive coffee from Starbucks. They probably try to figure out tricks on how to fire people so as to save the company a few dollars each month. Who knows! They don’t think about us as people, rather as a piece of property that they can utilize to earn even more with their stocks and bonds.

Gerald had already started to get drowsy so he downed one of the XXL Red Bull’s and ate at least half of the chocolate chip cookies. He opened up the only two windows and let the warm summer breeze waft through the car. They must have had a double round of Cappuccino today, because it took lots longer than last week for him to come out to the car. The next showing of the newest Star Wars movie must start in about a half hour, he thought as more and more cars with young kids started to fill the parking lot. Just then someone came out of the revolving glass doors of the shopping mall, and with that huge belly in front of him and the way he had to waddle along, he was absolutely unmistakable!

As he was walking to the car, he apparently said something sarcastic to a group of teenagers heading to the cinema, for it was as if they had studied some choreography when they all turned in unison, and gave him the middle finger! Gerald laughed so hard he almost had a coughing fit, and then remembering that he had the windows wide open, he toned it down a little. Boss man wriggled his way behind the steering wheel of the car, and cranked the starter, but only for a second. Gerald wasn’t a hundred percent sure that his trick would work, and as Boss man started to continuously crank the starter Gerald thought that he had failed. But suddenly there was a loud bang as the motor nearly exploded from all that back pressure, which naturally couldn’t escape through the exhaust pipe. Because it was filled with expanding PU Foam! And Gerald had made sure that he purchased the ‘Max Fill’ can because it expands the fastest, hardens the quickest, and would seal the exhaust pipe air tight all the way forward to the muffler.

Gerald had a hunch that Boss man knew that he had been hit again, because as he stormed out of the car he was screaming at everything and everybody that was in earshot, and even farther. For Gerald could pick out bits and pieces of his ranting and raving as he was waving his arms in the air as if he was attempting to fly. “You SOB!… Kick your ass!… Catch you and blah, blah, blah!… Pay for this!… Make sure your ass goes to jail… Then he slammed the car door shut and as he walked towards the shopping mall doors, he hit the button to lock the car. For just a second Gerald wondered why he didn’t use his cell phone, till he remembered that the idiot had shattered it on the ground two days earlier. When Boss man was in the mall, Gerald started up, put his earphones back in and hearing Rick James stating that she was a ‘Super Freak’, drove home, today just a little faster because all those energy drinks always made him have to go pee.

 

Thursday

Gerald had no other choice than to take a break due to the fact that Boss man now had two cars in for repair. And naturally the custodian had to tell everybody that Boss man either wasn’t allowed to have the car today, or his wife’s car got hit and that’s why he arrived at work in a Taxi. Gerald figured that when the car was repaired, his wife wouldn’t let him even look at her car anymore. Tonight Gerald would take in an early movie and then fall into bed.

 

Friday

Gerald had to go down into the garage and check the serial number on the old Milling machine, for somehow there was a mix up and when the buyer came to see the machine, they checked the serial number and led him to one that was up and running in the factory. Naturally he had to look to see if there was a car in the parking spot, and was surprised to see the BMW sitting there just as pretty as right out of the showroom. It took him two times to write the serial number on his notepad, because his mind was already planning for the next attack, and he had an idea which would really put the triple whammy on the car of the Boss man’s wife. He had thought about it and to constantly destroy the Boss’s car was in fact also hurting the company, if he had full coverage insurance. And then the insurance agency would send a private investigator out to nab the culprit. And Gerald knew that that would truly be bad news for him. Destruction of company property is legal grounds for the termination of a work contract. Not to mention what the total sum would be that he would have to reimburse for all the repairs that had to be done on the two cars! So his only privately owned car, his wife’s car, would have to take the blunt of the attacks. Gerald was already satisfied with his revenge, and would strike only once more before quitting.

The Boss had his peace for two days, but Gerald would strike tonight. Sort of, mess up his weekend? Hopefully!

Gerald parked in a store parking lot all the way to the back so anybody seeing the car in the dark where the floodlights didn’t shine, would think that it was parked for overnight and not even give it a second thought. He grabbed his bag off the back seat and started walking. The BMW would be parked next to the garage by the Boss’s house, and the house was almost four blocks away from the shopping center. So he walked and took his time for he was almost an hour earlier before his planned time of attack. He even took a detour and walked through the park, stopping to observe the swans gliding wave less over the surface of the duck pond. He knew that the town turned off every second street light at eleven-thirty to save electricity, and he would wait the extra half hour till just after midnight, to make sure that nobody is still out making a late night walk with their dog. Gerald hated dogs, for either they were barking for no reason, or they smelled you and barked for no reason.

He arrived just a few minutes after eleven-thirty and then had to hunker down behind the bushes till after midnight, and was happy that his mind was still capable of analytical planning, even after all these years of living the soft life of a civilian. Because ten minutes before midnight, some old man who probably couldn’t sleep anyways due to prostate problems, was hobbling along on his cane with the ugliest and oldest bulldog Gerald had ever seen. What would have made him dangerous to the mission is that even though he could barely walk his mutt; his eyes must have been good enough, for he wore no glasses, even in his advanced age.

When he was finished, he walked the more direct way to the stores parking lot. He had to get home because he simply had to see what happened when the car was towed into the repair shop tomorrow, and he needed his sleep so as to keep his senses sharp. The Boss would probably have a stroke when he jumps into the car bright and early tomorrow morning to get fresh bread and buns from the bakery for breakfast, and both back tires go flat. Too bad, they’ll have to eat cheap cereal like the poor working man does every morning.

 

Saturday

Gerald woke up and was absolutely excited to see his creative work come to bloom today. He tapped his fingers on the kitchen counter to the tune of Robbie Williams and Michael Bublè singing ‘Soda Pop’ and waited impatiently for the coffee machine to finally finish brewing. Then he sat at the kitchen table with his black coffee and lit his morning Marlboro. Meat Loaf came on the radio and Gerald sang along with the text “Flat tires in the rearview mirror, they appear flatter than they are!” He finished his coffee and looking at the clock, decided to slowly make his way to the repair shop.

He drove by the repair shop and as to be expected, the car was standing out front after being dropped off there by a towing truck. He had planned to risk being seen by the Boss man by going in to the repair shop and ordering an air filter, oil filter, and if it took to long see the end of the show, he would even have bought new spark plugs for his car, although he wasn’t in need of new ones. But when he had driven by and was going to turn around in the gas station next door, he saw that he could get himself a coffee with a doughnut for $1, 99. Not only did the thought of a doughnut with coffee sound delicious, but he seen that he could stand at one of the tables by the front window and have almost a front row seat for the upcoming show. So, in he went after parking his car behind the gas station between the other cars standing there either for repair or for sale.

It seemed to Gerald that the Boss man must have resigned to the fact that his cars were being attacked, for he was somewhat nonchalantly walking around in front of the repair shop and talking on his new cell phone. He didn’t even have a red head like he normally gets when he is even somewhat upset! One of the mechanics was just finishing putting the second new tire on the rear of the car and so long as he was tightening the lug nuts, Gerald bought himself another doughnut and coffee, for the show was far from over! The mechanic was letting the car down from the portable jack as Gerald came back to his standing table, and when the mechanic got this funny look on his face and walked over to the cars roof, Gerald nearly scalded his mouth from the coffee due to the excitement. The mechanic ran a finger over the roof, looked at it, and then sniffed at the smudge on his finger. He walked over to where the Boss was deep conversation on his phone, and talked to him. The look on the Boss’s face as he put his phone back into his jacket pocket was fabulous. His look was one of pure astonishment as he went over to the BMW while the mechanic walked into the repair shop. He came out of the shop with an aluminum ladder and set it next to the car. He climbed up the ladder and didn’t even have to go too far above the car before he busted out laughing. The Boss must have asked what the mechanic found so funny, because when the mechanic spoke to him and pointed out the letters on the roof, and that was when the Boss’s face went absolutely nuclear!

Gerald found the idea pretty good when he had at first thought of ruining the paint job with brake fluid, but it was when he was walking past the duck pond in the park that the idea of making letters with the brake fluid came into his head. Now looking at the reaction of the Boss as the mechanic told him that three letters were eating the paint off of the roof of the car, and that KMA meant ‘Kiss My Ass’, he was overjoyed that he had thought of it. Now the third phase should come about and then Gerald could go home and enjoy his Saturday.

The Mechanic had stored the portable jack and the ladder back into the shop and now came out with the bill. The Boss snatched it and must have said something pretty haughty to the mechanic as he got into the car, for as soon as the Boss was inside, the mechanic gave him the middle finger with both hands. The Boss shot forward in the BMW and attempted to make the hard left to get onto the street. Someone driving normal wouldn’t have had a problem taking the sharp maneuver, for they wouldn’t have needed the brakes. The BMW braked hard to make the turn and instead of making the turn, the right side front disc brake did its job, contrary to the left side, which was totally soaked with WD-40. In the attempt to brake hard at that speed, the car careened towards the right and smashed into a cement transformer building from the electric company in town. Gerald smiled and thought that it was a lovely sight; with the right front side of the BMW all crumpled up like a piece of paper. He finished his coffee in two swallows and shoved the last half of the doughnut in his mouth as he walked out the door and around the corner of the gas station.

 

What Gerald couldn’t know is the fact that the manager did in fact have to pay a percentage of the repairs to the company’s Mercedes. And he had gone to the office of the head union representative for the company to see if they could find a way that he wouldn’t have to pay. During their conversation, the manager had also told of the attacks on his wife’s car, especially the three pronged attack on Saturday. The representative had said that he knows of only one man who thinks, and has the skills to launch such a demolition against the manager’s two cars, and that was Gerald. As soon as the name was hanging in the air, the manager had said that he couldn’t believe that Gerald was capable of such criminal acts. The representative then told the manager all about Gerald and what he had formally done in the military before coming to work at the company. And he also pointed out the fact that the manager had been literally bullying him during working hours. The manager said that he had also said a few things to Gerald pertaining to smoking while at the store. The union rep told him that he had probably found his perpetrator, and to file charges. Let the police investigate and the court will decide.

 

Finale

Here I am sitting in the court room again, but it will be my last time as I will receive my sentence today from the judge. The last few days in court went by as if in a dream, for everything that the prosecuting attorney had presented to the court and the jury was for me simply a rehash of all that I had done when I had went on my rampage against this one man. Yes, it was simply one person, a man who most definitely deserved to live through the ‘Rambo-style’ tactics, of which he had absolutely no idea that I was capable of when someone really pushed me too far. I had observed him for only one week and that was more than enough to note his daily routine, which also included his Saturday ritual, but I considered Sundays and decided to let him have his tranquility and also so I could take a day off. My every move, every instance had been thought out and carefully planned. Basically said, I would not be sitting here right now had it not been that I had in all these years, forgotten that the one person who knew of what I had learned and of what I was really capable of, had climbed the company ladder and had eventually became the head representative of the union at the company where we both were employed. After his statement under oath yesterday, it had slammed home like a hammer. And as he started to give his affidavit, I was astounded that he recited verbatim our little chat. I started to remember our chat during work one day, oh so long ago, when I had just started to work at the company. In those days, man let me tell you, I had an arrogant attitude and a big mouth to match it. And his advice to me after a little altercation with another coworker was to adjust to the culture, attempt to fit in like all the rest, and forget about what I had previously done in my military career. Which I took to heart and did, and in the last few decades I was calm, decisive, and had made my new way in life. I had also forgotten one little thing which was now detrimental to me, our little chat.

I had taken the advice of my attorney and constantly pleaded the 5th Amendment whenever I could, because the lawyer had said that they will have to prove if I had actually committed the acts or not. But nowadays, in our ever expanding digital world, they had the invoice for the PU foam from England, and after the judge ordered it, they utilized the GPS from my cell phone. When they presented the graphic chart in court, it was a roadmap of everywhere I had been. I leaned over to my lawyer and asked him what that will mean in the scheme of things, and he whispered in my ear that I was screwed. They had me.

But no matter what happens, my very last act of revenge will play out if I am in jail or not. For I had noticed that the manager’s wood privacy panels on his fence were mounted with simple wire twisted around the supporting poles. And so I took the extra few minutes to cut the wires with my Leatherman tool. When the next storm comes around in late summer or fall, he will think of me again as he cleans up the broken panels and repairs the fence.

 

So now the judge is at the bench and if I get lucky, I might get off with only a fine and the reimbursement of all the damage I had created. If the judges daughter by chance ran off with an American while he was stationed here, or worse yet, got pregnant and the soldier left her like someone leaves a dog on the side of the road, then I’ll see the inside of my new room with bars on the window. I know how these proceedings go, and what do you think I’ll say when he asks me if I am proud of what I did, or do I show remorse? I’ll slowly stand up and proudly say; “Your Honor, I’m proud that I was still capable in my advanced age to carry out my revenge! And as to if I had the chance to go backwards in time, would I do it again? You’re damn right I would!”

A strange thing occurred to me as I watched the judge looking over the papers for the umpteenth time; nobody ever mentioned that his Mercedes was full of Stinky Cheese, and that it must reek worse than the city garbage dump by now!

###

 

Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer, on Facebook, or the social media of your choice?

Thank you! David Jensen – Author

 


Marlboro Slavery

When Gerald is bullied from the manager of his company during working hours, he takes it with a grain of salt. But when it starts during his private time, something inside Gerald snaps, and he goes on a rampage of revenge to teach the manager a simple lesson of life; one should never judge a book by its cover!

  • ISBN: 9781370125760
  • Author: David Jensen
  • Published: 2017-01-13 19:20:29
  • Words: 9149
Marlboro Slavery Marlboro Slavery