Kopi Luwak

A little rat-like animal eats the wild coffee berries and soon after they have released it from their tiny ass cracks people are paid to sift through it until something in the form of liquid gold can be produced from it. These beans can fetch up to $600 a pound. Not bad for something that looks nothing like coffee beans and tastes like chocolate. Indonesians call it Kopi Luwak, others call it crappuccino. So, it does leave you wondering why the president of Indonesian, whose middle name is actually Bambang would give this to the Australian prime minister as a gift at the end of his visit to the great land down under. We gave him a hand made guitar, he gave us coffee that has come out of a jungle rats ass. Wonder what Barack Obama is going to bring with him on his upcoming visit? Anything along the lines of a Holy Bible, a plate of nachos, a loaded handgun and 40oz of malt liquor would be equally appropriate. Oh, and something to represent Canada, eh.

Episode Ten: Last Piece

His final moments with the company was spent at the feet of the CEO and his posse, with puke pouring out of his mouth and urine from his penis. With the three small walls of the elevator around them the store manager fell in a drunken mess and landed on the floor of the cramped space. It was only meant to be a simple meeting of the heads of all the national shops and somehow he burned every possible bridge he had left. He had dodged every bullet until that fateful morning, from lying, cheating, stealing to an absolute disregard of company policy and procedure. Whether it was just easier for Clive Peeters to keep him as a pawn on their chessboard or because he provided great entertainment value it was pretty clear that he could no longer get away with the blatant lunacy. Must've been something about vomiting and pissing all over his boss. Everyone wants to do it at some point but there will always remain a line that can't be so bravely crossed. This sudden act of insanity was the very final step in a trail of madness. By this point almost everyone who had started with the store that he managed has either quit or had been terminated. A couple of months later I handed in my final resignation and it stuck. Forever will I be thankful to see the limits one will go to prove such instability and just how many people they are willing to drag to hell with them. Life isn't always what you make it, it can be what others make and break around you.

Episode Nine: Determination

Three attempts to quit working for Clive Peeters were made on my behalf. The first time was on opening day after I realised just how bad the situation I'd gotten myself into was; the store was full of hundreds of potential customers and one by one they were being plucked by seasoned veterans of the company who seemed to be more in it for themselves than helping the new guys; being a salesman is easy, being a sales executive for Clive Peeters is akin to serving someone at McDonalds, there are seven steps that need to be strictly follow. Such nonsense. Also, it was pretty clear that the store manager wasn't quite sound, what didn't help his case was all the obscure references to old fashioned sports teams that overcame all odds. His abrupt, blunt and rude demeanor wasn't winning him any fans either. Even though he was a man I couldn't completely understand I did indeed trust him when he promised things would get better and that I wasn't worth losing. The second time I was a couple of months later when I was just downright exhausted with the inside politics of the shop and the consistent flow of bullshit coming from head office. It was also apparent that an elite clique of salespeople and management had formed and were quite aggressive toward anyone outside of their sad circle. A group that included the store manager, human resources manger and the warehouse manager. So, there really wasn't anywhere we could turn without either being teamed up against or having genuine concerns swept under the rug. The only course of action seemed to be another attempt at resigning, and somehow the store manager again convinced me that he valued me highly and would not let me go easily. Motherfucker! The only option I had was to compromise, this is where the idea to put me in the dysfunctional warehouse was born. Months later my third and final attempt to leave the company came as swiftly as the termination of the store manager did.

To be continued...

Episode Eight: Beginning of the End

So, we were all dropping one by one. Some didn't even make it to the grand opening. They were the lucky ones and they will never know it. To fill the newfound voids people were hired, one in particular was a New Zealander by a name that eludes me now, maybe because I only ever referred to him as Butters. A name given to him because his personality resembled that of a character from South Park. Not only was his innocent and simple but he often found himself on the wrong end of right; by the time Butters came along the madness of our little Clive Peeters shop was in full swing, everybody hated each other for their own reasons and atop of that our store manager was clearly out of his mind and intent on dragging as many people to hell with him, which was unfortunete for Butters since he was so easily led astray. At the Christmas party he dumped a whole lot of drugs into his system with the boss and then had to abandon the silly fucker when he almost had his ass beat by nightclub bouncers. Keeping in mind the shop manager was all of five feet tall. That should've been the first alarm bell for Butters but it wasn't. Sometime during the early months of the new year his longtime girlfriend deserted him, which tipped him over the edge. He no longer cared about anything. He started smoking and drinking heavily and partying with random strangers until he would find himself in the most bizarre situations, such as the time he woke up on some scafolding three stories above street level. Somewhere along the line he took out a massive loan to further fuel his partying ways and maxed out every credit card he was given. Then one day he annouced that he was going home and just walked out the door never to returned. He taught me that you don't have to be big to fall hard.

To be continued...

Episode Seven: The Way of the Horse

Karen was a real piece of work. Not only was she on the tail-end of middle-age she was a mother to one of the most docile and awkward teenage boys you will ever meet. When the doors finally opened to the brand new Clive Peeters store she swooped ahead of all of us and made the very first sale. What appeared to be chance and luck turned out to be very calculated and cold. She was a true shark; knowing exactly how to manipulate a customer into buying from her. After managing to steal client after client from each and every one of us she soon became bad news, but that wasn't the half of it. A woman who is well beyond her peak should not flirt nearly as openly and often as she did. Put it this way, if she were a he then someone would have made a sexual harassment complaint quick smart. Sexually suggestive jokes, creepy eyes and unwelcome touching, these were only a few things she had hidden up her short sleeves. Although she specifically specialised in kitchen appliances she made the fatal mistake of venturing into other departments and thieving customers. If that wasn't enough she began sleeping with the boss. Who was married. Something the both of them would deny until they were blue in the face, forgetting the fact that they'd been caught numerous times in many different awkward and unsettling situations; it started simply with them being seen kissing in the car park, however the gig was completely up when she was caught hiding behind the bosses door while he stood in only his underwear. Karen eventually quit, or got fired? I never really cared enough to know toward the end. Everything came crashing down on everyone so fast to keep up with what was happening to who.

To be continued...

Episode Six: The Weird One

Kim was a strange young man. Not only did he have a girl's name but he was a common alcoholic who was no taller than a fire hydrant. He wasn't a dwarf but he certainly was a fair few inches short of average height. Because he had come over to Clive Peeters with the store manager he got away with a lot more than the average worker. Sometimes he wouldn't show up for days and when he did eventually turn up he would be treated as if he were there all along. Although he was hesitant at first he did begin to open up to me on our morning commutes to work on the bus. He had a fascination of world wars gone by and was remarkably well spoken, well read and quite intelligent, but it was the pills and liquor that beat him down. Whether it was a mental condition or for recreation he regularly took head medication and would panic whenever he didn't, as if he were about to turn into the Incredible Hulk. The advantage of knowing Kim was that he could predict the store managers next move, as unpredictable as he was. In the end the only difference between Kim and the boss was that he was clearly more intelligent. Even though his came from a drug addled background he had a wealthy family who was surprisingly supportive and was well aware of the world around him. Kim was also the person who changed the way I wrote forever by telling me that my writing "wasn't literature." He was right, it wasn't. And probably still isn't, but it was a wake up call I needed and respected. It's a shame he didn't take his own reality checks too well; no matter how much support he was given he reduced himself to an incoherent mess within a snap. So it was no surprise when one day he was gone forever.

To be continued...