One summer when I was a teen I visited an uncle and his family in another distant city. After the summer I decided I would like to stay and my uncle got me a job at the biggest bakery in town. My job preparing bread pans(greasing) was the lowest of low with tremendous effects on my clothing, shoes to shirt. No sooner had I started then union goons got to my uncle that I hadn’t joined the union and paid my dues. My uncle got me off the hook by telling the goons that I would be working only that summer to get enough money for books and keep. Ever since I have had a bad memories of unions. My mother went through the early 1930s with union problems and my experience at the bakery let me understand some of her pain and tears.
Your union thugs were much more civilized than my union thugs. I tried reasoning with the union before they threatened me, and they told me to join or quit even if I would lose a lot of money on the deal (the union did so little that they guaranteed minimum wage for the first three months, and their cut including the fee for joining would have been more than half of my summer take home pay). I quit at the 30 day mark, as required by the union's contract, and then got rehired on the following Monday arguing that I should have another 30 days since I had just been hired. They were very annoyed by my methods.