My good friend Sean just called me. Turns out that our old boss back in Greenville, NC just passed away. Boss spelled backwards is double s-o-b and that's twice as bad. I'm not one to lightly speak ill of the dead, but he knew it just as well as we did. His ex-wife supposedly said "Rick's #1 fan was Rick." I'll buy that. He was good to me from time to time, and pretty damn hateful others. He could cuss me in the morning, take me to lunch at noon, and threaten to fire me that evening. He was 47 (I guess that means his late 30's when I worked for him) and maybe 150 lbs. I'd personally seen him take enough purple xanax to kill me and my 200+ lb frame.
He'd come in to work with a cup of coffee, that ever present cigarette, say good morning to everyone, go in his office for 30 minutes, then come out and fire EVERYONE. The whole store. If you got fired, you had to show up the next morning on time to prove you wanted your job. Really. I swear.
He could be funny sometimes, in a nasty, perverted sort of way. One of the things he used to tell women-friends on the phone was "If you can guess what I've got in my hand, you can have it." Twisted bastard.
He got pissed once and posted one salesman by each door and me by the phone at the back desk (thus insuring that I wouldn't get an "up") The back desk, and by extension the phone was near the TV section. Since the phone wasn't ringing, and no customers could get past the cordion of salesmen, I started watching TV. He came over and said, "I'm gonna hang a mirror over those TV's so you can stand here and watch yourself starve to death." (commision sales)
He took rude to a whole new level. Once one of the salesmen came over (with the customer) to ask some pricing. "The customer is not ready to buy right now, but wants an estimate on a package deal" Rick replied "Not buying now? why don't you drop them and go get a customer that's worth a shit?" Right there, out loud, in front of God and everybody.
So, here's my favorite Rick story. Be advised, there is some foul language here that I don't normally use, but this story is verbatum... And I have witnesses in case you dont believe me... Multiple witnesses.
Weekday. Mid afternoon. Sales desk in the center of the showroom floor. All the salesmen gathered around the desk, Rick gives a motivational speech. (I swear on my mother this is true) He starts in...
"Uh, Ya gotta want money, more than ya want pussy or ya ain't no fuckin' good to me. Cause if ya don't want money more than ya want pussy, you ain't sellin' no (product) and you can FUCKIN" LEAVE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!" Yep that man was a class act all the way. In the middle of his sales meeting, one of the salesmen's wives brings in a brown bag lunch. So while he's grabbing the bag from his wife Rick continues... "See (salesman) over there? His little wifey all lovey-dovey bringing him lunch. Well let me tell you, the first time he don't pay the bills, she's gonna leave his ass. You know why? Because his wife is a gold-diggin' bitch. (pointing around the circle) Your wife is a gold-diggin bitch. Your wife is a gold-diggin' bitch, and your wife is a gold-diggin' bitch." It kept going on and on like that... I pissed off the other guys, because I kept baiting him, (I told him I wanted to be a history teacher) but that was pretty much par for the course.
I actually even worked for him twice due to a stagnant job market. Between Sean and myself we could write a book on his "motivational technique".
So, Goodbye Rick, I hope you get better than you deserve in the hereafter. I was surprised to find that I was a little sad when I found out that you had passed, but I suppose what I feel for you is appropriate... Just a little prick.
Labels: Tasteless Stories