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Antiwork

Tell me about when your boss lied to you…

One time (back when I was young and naive), a guy in the machine shop took a weeks vacation, and work was slow in the parts inspection department (me) so my boss loaned me to the machine shop. I thought it would be an interesting break, doing something different. I hated it. I had to stand the whole time, and couldn't really move around. The job involved taking a stamped part from one bin, putting it in the jig, and pulling down a handle to run a threading device through one of the punched holes, then setting it in another bin. I figured as long as I'm keeping busy, they would be happy enough with me. The old fart supervisor comes over and decides he wants to chat for a minute. He insisted that he had worked his way up through the ranks in the machine shop (doubtful), and he…


One time (back when I was young and naive), a guy in the machine shop took a weeks vacation, and work was slow in the parts inspection department (me) so my boss loaned me to the machine shop. I thought it would be an interesting break, doing something different. I hated it.

I had to stand the whole time, and couldn't really move around. The job involved taking a stamped part from one bin, putting it in the jig, and pulling down a handle to run a threading device through one of the punched holes, then setting it in another bin.

I figured as long as I'm keeping busy, they would be happy enough with me. The old fart supervisor comes over and decides he wants to chat for a minute. He insisted that he had worked his way up through the ranks in the machine shop (doubtful), and he said when he was working the threader, he would do “X” amount of parts per hour.

Fine, whatever. I knew he was trying to communicate expectations, but as long as I was busy they weren't going to fire me. So I'm standing there, keeping busy, and a thought occurs to me. I watched the clock and when the minute hand and second hand landed on a whole number, I started counting the parts I did.

After six minutes, I stopped for a few seconds, and multiplied that number by 10, giving me parts done per 60 minutes. I wasn't even close. I thought, OK…lets give this a shot. I cranked it up a notch, and really cooked. After six minutes I had done a significant number more, but….there was no physical way for a human being to accomplish “X” number of units per hour. That asswipe lied directly to my face. He also knew how many parts the experienced guy would do during a normal shift.

I never forgot this.

Plus, the sprint rate of speed is completely unsustainable in a marathon.

Bosses who normally spend hours in an air-conditioned office each day will try to shame you into working constantly at a “burn out” rate. They will not fill-in on the machine while you are at lunch, so…their cries that the job is important is just their lips flapping.

They don't care about your physical exhaustion or your mental health. If you are getting burned out from the pace, they will BRAG to the other supervisors that it's because of that boss pushing you. They say one thing to your face abut being a team, but behind closed doors, they are proud of crushing you to squeeze out every last drop…

Then they try to shame you for taking vacation or a sick day.

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