Posted on 09/14/2022 10:01:51 AM PDT by Brookhaven
A reader writes:
I live in a small city which doesn’t have many employment opportunities. The city has a high unemployment rate, and it’s rare to find work that isn’t in shops, farming, etc. Six years ago, the city council launched a project to fund start-up business ideas for marginalized individuals, including those with disabilities.
One of these ideas has become extremely successful. It’s essentially four neurodivergent eccentrics who live every day like it’s Halloween. They are commissioned by various organizations around the state to create bespoke services and goods. They’ve attracted something of a following with projects coming in all year in preparation for October. Jobs include making props for a small amusement park, making decor for a children’s hospital, local authorities hiring them to run haunted houses, etc. Because it has council funding, the start-up needs a couple of additional employees for administration. I accepted one of these admin roles as there are so few office-based jobs in the area.
I have worked there for two years and I feel like I’m in some sort of alternative reality. The office is filled with robotics, costumes, and prop projects. I’ve kept my complaints to what I thought was minimal, but the number of official logged complaints about the four people is in double digits. As an example, one was about a ruined handbag that had been seized as a prop and filled with jelly and rubber eyeballs. The other admin worker isn’t helpful — he has multiple Halloween-themed tattoos and named his kids in obvious tribute (think names like Casper, Salem etc.).
The entire city sees the team as underdog heroes and they really are involved in worthwhile projects. I appreciate that they probably have been excluded through their lives and have finally found an opportunity to form a community and work in a field they love. But my nerves are in shreds with the constant screams and cackles emitted from every corner of a small office. The latest is a wildlife charity wanting to put nesting boxes for actual BATS! in the office. They’re paying for it as a promotional/marketing service, with the resident ghouls blogging about and videoing the bats. Am I nuts, or is this completely bizarre?
After I submitted a complaint about the plans to move bats in, the local newspaper ran a massive double spread about the Halloween grinch trying to destroy this deeply loved community enterprise. They took the stance that I am some stuffy busybody ruining disabled people’s opportunities to shine and create joy and community spirit. I wasn’t named in the article but it was obvious to locals who the villain was.
Quitting means I’d be signing up for many years in a manual or service job in a city where everyone hates me. My son is counting down the days until he can legally change his name so he won’t be recognized. I had minor surgery last year and the week off felt like the first time in two years I could breathe.
As I’m writing this to you, my coworkers are bellowing out lines from films at each other repetitively, then identifying them. Here’s a sample:
A : What an excellent day for an exorcism! J: The Exorcist, 1973!
T: Listen to them, children of the night! J : Dracula, 1931!
Help!
Seems to me a fast good job would be pteferrable
*Takes job working with weirdos.
*Complaint: Help! I'm working with weirdos!
Not real.
How many people have gone to work in a place that turned out not to be a good fit?
Most folks realize that pretty soon into the tenure.
You work with weirdos. I worked in video production for a few years. They were weirdos. I get it. But it doesn’t sound like a “hostile” work environment, and that is where you would lose any “case.”
Suggest this person apply for a new job at Santa Claus City.
I guess the author just couldn’t wait for April 1st.
I started working as an employee at 16 at summer jobs and continued that through college, getting a rather useless Sociology degree. At the age of 26 I decided to only work for myself. Never had an employee. Retired 13 years ago at age 60.
As an employee I felt like my alternatives were: Work hard for my employer who was making a profit off me, which meant I wasn’t realizing my full economic potential, or goof off as much as possible as an employee and hope to stay employed while putting in as little effort as possible. That also meant I would never realize my full potential.
At the age of 26 I decided to only work for myself. I was the boss from then on. Never had an employee as they sounded like trouble and stress. Reached financial independence and retired 13 years ago at age 60. Worked in two different fields, they were great. Still dabble in both, but just for enjoyment. Still believe in my tagline.
Some can make out well as employees, I was just too independent and didn’t want to spend my life chafing at someone else’s bridle. So I became an independent contractor.
Sounds batty to me! (rimshot)
Sounds like a great way to get rabies, too.
Sounds like a fun place to work!
Maybe this is a ‘neg’ article... Talking smack for the sake of publicity
What, exactly, is wrong with work in shops, farming, etc.? DC pretty much hogs up most of the philosopher-bureaucrat jobs.
True that
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