Sign up now for a free
@Writing.Com email
address & your own
Online Writing Portfolio!
Username:
Password:  
SPONSORED ITEMS
READ A NEWBIE
BADGES
Seasons Autumn
Presented To:
Cassandra Meeks

TESTIMONIALS
TELL A FRIEND
Know someone who'd
like this page?

Email Address:

Optional Comment:

WHO'S ONLINE?
Members: 691    
Guests: 756

Total Online Now: 1447
WRITING.COM TIME

Wednesday
December 17, 2014
10:59pm EST


by nil
Rated: 18+ | Letter/Memo | Opinion | #1852696
letter i wrote after going off the deep end
THIRTY-TWO

letter i wrote to PAPA JOHN'S PIZZA

if anyone cares

i would like to give you a report, on recent events, in one of your franchise operations. in actuality, i will be reporting on some, shall we say, ongoing events, as well. i tried, prior to this communique, to send an email thru your 'contact us' debacle, but, sadly, my email was sent, not to the corporation, but to the franchisee, soon to be, under discussion. first, i would like to tell of two, seperate, yet, connected, events.

both of these events relate to a delivery driver, who, at this time, will be called Joy.

event one

sometime in february, as memory does not serve, you can, may, and will, no doubt determine for yourselves, eventually, said driver, Joy, on a friday night, during peak/rush business hours, mentions, offhandedly, mind you, that her 'doctor', a certain Ms. Bright, shall we say (in actuality, that is her real name, or, rather, it may have been Smart, i'm a little fuzzy on the, uh, minor, details), (ironic, wouldn't you say?), had recently, maybe even, that very day, switched her, 'medication', from, KLONOPIN (yours truly, by the way, takes the same, every day), to SEROQUEL. and, she went on to say, she hadn't, as her 'dr' advised her to (she's not, all that dim, mind), stopped taking her previous 'meds', for two weeks, prior to, starting her new, 'medication'.

a side note: SEROQUEL, is, generally, given to psychotics, or, those prone to, such, like, episodes.

to resume: a few scant minutes later, we find Joy, by the ovens, starting to collapse in a heap, as those who don't, follow 'doctors' orders, often do. she was saved from hitting the floor, by another, fellow soldier/driver/woman, or two, hard to recall, exactly, at this distance from said event. she was, first, wedged, unceremoniously, between the driver's table and the wall, which afforded her a scant foot or so room to breathe, and, in addition, kept her in a safe, upright, position. at this point, business went on as usual, and by that, i mean two things, a) no one bothered to take charge of the Joy situation. b) the store continued to function as always (i would like to say here, that, as far as drivers, phone girls, and pizza makers are concerned, you could not ask for, nor find, a better crew). one person did, however, jump to the phones, and call 911, and that would be Kelly. but, since no one else could be bothered, yours truly, your humble narrator, inevitably, took charge. i asked Joy just what she had taken (KLONOPIN 0.5 mg / SEROQUEL 150 mg), and directed Ruth, and Tiffany, to get her to the office, and into a chair, for obvious reasons. i then asked Joy a second time what she had taken, to see if i would get the same response, which i did. i went to see if my run was up, as i was next in line. it was not, so i went to the back room and washed some dishes. the ambulance arrived at about the same time that i finished with the dishes, and then my run came up. i bagged my pizzas, then informed the EMTs of Joy's prescription intake. i went to the cooler to get a 2 litre (this was in the middle of a friday night rush, and when i say i went to the cooler, i mean i had to dodge this person, then that person, then back up a step or two, to get out of the way of the incoming drivers, etc. it reads like it took a couple of seconds, but it was more like 2 or 3 minutes. apply this to all of my actions, and you will get a better idea of the time flow), weaved my way around the carry-out customers (we get a lot), and made haste to my ride. i put everything where it belonged, buckled up, and turned the key. i was about to drive off, when i decided that, given the lack of oversight by management of the Joy situation, and the fact that all three EMTs looked to be in their 60s, i might had better at least take a look-see before rushing off. when i finally managed to worm my way thru the (it struck me, once, that a well-run pizza store is quite similar to an emergency room) commotion, i found the EMTs on the phone with their home base, and heard them being asked to find out what other medications Joy might be taking. i stood there, outside the office door, and counted off three minutes on my watch, during which, no one came out to fulfill the home bases' request. so, yes, of course, i worked my way back out of the store, and went to Joy's car, where i a) found her purse, which contained her prescriptions (all EIGHT of them, some of which were so faded as to be illegible). b) located her wallet, which was not in her purse, but on the floorboard (for the EMTs, for identification, if needed). c) took her keys from the ignition, just in case, and locked her car's doors. as i returned to the store, a second group of EMTs arrived, and took over from the first (thankfully). when we all arrived at the office, which took several minutes, due to business carrying on, and all, i gave the purse, pills, IDs, and keys, to one of the new, incoming, EMTs. at this time, i felt that the situation was in competent hands (the new EMTs), so i made my way back out of the store, again, and went on with my run (which made it to the door in under 50 minutes, from the time it was ordered). when i returned to the store after my run, i found that a) Joy, who had worked eight hours at her other job, and hadn't eaten all day, had been given some food and drink, which had served to revive her, most splendidly. b) i was ready to be cut. c) i was 'invading her personal privacy', as Jason so, pleasantly, put it, and that i might have put him in danger of getting in trouble over said privacy issue. not the store, not the franchise, not the corporation, mind you, but him. i told him that i was sorry if i had caused him any undue stress (i must point out that, Jason, is the world's biggest sissy, i honestly don't know how else i can put it), but that i felt it was in Joy's best interest that her privacy be invaded. call me silly, but i believe one's life, if only just ever so slightly, outweighs one's privacy, in the grander scheme of things.

i would like to pause for a moment here, to point a few things out. i tried once before, 6 or so years ago, to salvage someone, who was , pretty much, down to her last chance. sad to say, it didn't work. but, it needed to be done, and since no one else would man up, i did. it cost me everything, in the end; my career, my home, my credit, car, you name it. i made a serious error, afterwards, and compounded my problems, by winding up in jail for two years. what i should have done then, is what i'm doing here, now. i have been sorely abused by a number of corporate entities in my time here on your planet (the mega corporations' planet, that is), and every single time it has been, not by upper management, but by some, hot-shot, piece-of-**** new boss. i believe in karma; 'little caesar's dicked me around once, and look where they're at now. on my first job, at 16, a new boss asked me if i liked washing dishes, and, stupid me, thinking honesty was the best policy, told him, not really, and that son-of-a-bitch fired me, on the spot, just for telling him the truth. at the end of my career in IT, after losing almost everything in my foolish pursuit of trying to help a fellow human being, my new boss, who had a daughter of his own, the 'light of his life', as he told me, knowing full well what i was doing, and why, fired me, not for any real reason (it was recorded as being late to work on two consecutive days), but simply because i was not the workaholic he was (60 to 80 hour-a-week, would-be ladder-climber, who, in the end, blew his shot at the brass ring by over-estimating his own worth to his, new boss, and, put his career before the 'light of his life', and, everything and everyone else), and subscribed to a different world-view than his, that being, that there are some things more important than work, namely, having an actual life. before him, i had sworn, to God himself, after a number of these incidents, that i would, quite literally, kill the next one who treated me in like manner. and, of course, i did not, as that would have broken my Mother's heart, not to mention, led to a long period of incarceration, during which, i would be likely to miss my favorite TV show, THE SIMPSONS. no, i'm serious. instead, being a former bank employee, and knowing what is every bank's policy (give them what they ask for, get them out quickly, and, see to it that no one gets hurt), i took the coward's way out, and robbed a bank (non-violently, mind; i am, as far as physical violence goes, a pacifist, and more bark that bite. that said, this was the other, plan b kind of thing, that i also swore to God i would do, if i wound up in said situation again, etc. and, as, i am, a man of my word, in all else, and, formerly, when giving God ultimatums, had never before, had the balls to follow thru, decided it was about time that i, followed thru on, at least one, if i were ever to expect to be taken, seriously, in the future, if, indeed i had one). i likely would have gotten away with it, had i not told my 'best friend', who ratted me out for the CRIMESTOPPERS money. live and learn. to surmise, all of this has left me with a considerable chip on my shoulder, and it was merely your misfortune, fate, whatever, that when i finally figured out the right course of action for this type of situation, the whole, stabbed-in-the-back-for-nothing-by-a-new-boss thing, it fell on you, to be the receiver of my considerable, and long-pent wrath. que sera, sera, and all that. i will now return to the letter, proper, and take up with ---

event two

a few weeks ago, i just, really, can't be bothered with this whole, exact date thing. a bit of background info is required here, i live, literally, on the right-side of the track. about a mile and a half from my abode is a rail line, and, on the other side, just as in film, books, and cheap TV programs, is the bad side of town. i call it CRACKLAND, you, may, feel free, call it whatever you, like. other names that would do nicely include, oh, HELL, for one, the war zone, the end of the road, etc. there is a gas station on the border of this, dichotomy, which serves any and all, and upon pulling into this establishment for some much-needed go juice, i saw, quite to our mutual suprise, Joy, in the passenger seat of her car, which was filled with an assortment of unsavory types. CRACKHEADS, if you need it spelled out. and, if you've lost track here, not one hundred feet away from the abyss. having personal, and extensive, experience in this area of human misfortune, i feel fairly well-qualified to make what, to others, might appear to be a snap judgement. Joy, is, undoubtedly, smoking crack. from our various conversations at work i know that Joy is, a) living some 30 miles away from said crackland. b) not dating any known crackheads. and, c) without any, legitimate, reason for being where she was, with whom she was with, and, under the circumstances in which i saw her (not in the driver's seat; trust me, it is a significant sign). so. i am immediately in a quandary. i know what i know. i have been told by Jason, to stay out of Joy's personal life, and my own Mother will, upon hearing of this sad situation, undoubtably, tell me not to go there again. what? do you lie to your Mother? or, not tell her what's bothering you, when she asks? it is, a dire spot to find one's self in. i might try to, ellude the neccesity of telling the truth, if need be, but i am not the type of man who, would, bald-faced, and unashamed, lie to his Mother. to continue, what to do, what to do? like an idiot, i decide to take the accepted, useless route, and tell my boss, Jason, my suspicions. he, in turn, did exactly what i expected, and told me to, 'mind my own business', again, and, again, not for the corporation's sake, or, the francises' sake, or even the store's sake, but for his, own, personal, sake. that, alone, the, self-centered, ****-everyone-and-yay-for-me attitude (thank, my brother, for that, sweet little piece of verbal assault), by itself, would have been enough to make me do what i did, if, only out of spite. but the sheer, lack of concern for a fellow human being thing is what really determined my course of action. just how sorry can you be? is someone's life (Joy is 18/19 years old, has it all ahead of her, not behind, as was the case with my first attempt to, follow thru with the choice i had made, the stupid, worthless, and utterly contemptible choice, that is, to help someone out, when no one else is willing to so much as say boo), really, worth less than their privacy? or, one's own, personal, potential, liabilty? sadly, dear reader, the world is just that, ****ed-up, a place. but i, if only myself, alone, will not, just give up, and, say, to hell with it, what's, the point. what, did i do? i wrote Joy a letter, some, five pages, telling her what i had been thru with the last one, and how i, would, even if it meant going back to jail, or winding up in the street, do it again, for her, and how i will, keep on doing it, regardless, of the consequences. my own Mother, who would have, at one time, been out doing the same thing, if it had been a family member, or good friend's daughter, has turned against me over this, and, as much as i love her, i would walk over her corpse to do it again, if that's what is required. WOMEN, are NOT just some, afterthought, on God's part, as we have all been led to believe, and, as the powers-that-be, would, have us, continue to believe. i write, as a hobby, seeing as no one seems to be willing to, pay for my work, mostly song lyrics, short stories, never-to-be-completed novels, that sort of thing. once, while on patrol in crackland, during, personal war one, a line of prose came to me, something that, mine own eloquence will never equal.

WOMAN was God's gift to man, that he might know beauty and joy. There is NO greater sin than to fail Her.

my own, personal opinion is that, not only did God create WOMAN first, from the best parts of himself (the gender thing is a bitch, ain't it?), but that they were, and are, still, his ANGELS, and that man, created second, from what remained, with just a hint of that goodness God gave to, his ANGELS, was vain, and spiteful, and turned on WOMAN, whom he, was made to PROTECT, giving us, the, world we live in, the, world that is, invariably, being run into the ground by (who else?), men. but that's just me.

and, in the end, i was fired by Jason. and, i am not happy about it.

the above, however, is not the worst of it, no, not by a mile. we still have the ongoing thing to go over. SEXUAL HARRASSMENT is the topic we will be delving into, momentarily. the guilty party in this, travesty, will remain unnamed as, he will, eventually, hang himself with his own rope. i promise. but his escapades will be gone over in loving detail, starting now. we have had, over the last three years (roughly), three beautiful, innocent young phone girls, namely, Catherine, Desirae, and Carly. they all started at seventeen, and currently are, 19, 18, and 17, respectively. they are all, also, VIRGINS. shocked, are we? why, how, did he, how could he possibly...because, friends, the predator in their midst ASKED them, that's how. before the end of their first day on the job, each one was, probed with many, personal, intimate questions about their sex lives. you know, Desirae gives great blow jobs! you know this, because i know this, because our borderline pedophile fellow employee told me, without any prompting, whatsoever, on my part. why? because; alchoholic, 'jehovah's witness', wife-beating, child-beating, actual father, left behind, somewhere, at some point, wife, daughters, sons, escaped, somehow, the damage is done, etc. this, stealth-lothario, this, pretty-on-the-outside, all smiles and laughter in the light, poor, lost soul, sees me as a sort of, not-quite-as-****ed-up-as-the-real-deal, father-figure. some say that the Lord works in mysterious ways, that everything happens for a reason, all that. well, we can't have free will if it's everything, so, let's just say that, SOME things, happen for a reason, that some people, find themselves, somewhere they never imagined they'd be, for a purpose. not their own.

unnamed, he talks about three-ways, and girl-on-girl action, sex, sex, sex, pretty much non-stop. a quick aside - times have changed; we talked this same garbage twenty years ago when i worked for 'pizza hut', before all the LAWS were written that were supposed to put a stop to this sort of thing. it blows off steam, and helps get young, horny men laid. with girls of legal age, please. the reason it still goes on is NOT, the, the-more-things-change nonsense, but because the kids lack the inhibitions we old farts have, due, for the most part, to prime-time TV (another story/conspiracy, for another time), and to a lesser extent, film, music, everything. sex can't be avoided; it shouldn't be, in my own, but that is neither here nor there, or germane to the story at hand. sex is everywhere, and, these days, kids talk about it more openly, one might say brazenly, than they did in my day (i'm 50). we talked about it at the same age, my generation, but not around adults. so, it's not so much the topic of conversation that's the problem, but the continuing, ongoing quest of our young predator-friend, which is, to put it bluntly, to get it, as much, and, as often, as possible. he also told me that, he has considered girls as young as 13, and has hung out with one of our former driver's daughter, 15 (whose parent said, when asked about another 'what if' scenario (another, long, involved story) involving her daughter, that scenario being, 25 year-old 'man', 15 year-old girl, that she would KILL HIM, i, do not doubt her), has 'tweeted' the 17 year-old phone girl (when he was between girlfriends), and this is only what i, myself, know of. i feel it is safe to assume that, given, my knowledge, it is but, the tip, of the iceberg.

not, a pretty picture, to say the least. i can't swear to it, as i don't know, quite, everything, but i feel it is, again, safe to say, that, the franchise owner must have some awareness of the situation, as his own daughter, Tiffany, lovely girl, 19/20, something like that, is employed at the store, and was, recently, the target of our (future serial killer/rapist/who-knows-what-else) 'friend's', attention (the girl-on-girl question-thing that i was forced to shut down).

to finish up here, i hope to see, some action on the part of the, corporation and/or franchise owner's part, say, damn near immediately. otherwise, additional copies of this letter will be sent to, what say, USATODAY, and, any, and all major TV news networks, other, well-known newspapers, etc. here, is where things get a little touchy, what with bribery laws, and all. i feel it is fair to ask for, some sort of monetary compensation for yours truly, what with the, getting fired, and the, awful job-market, doomed-economy thing going on, as of late. no demands, mind you, just a simple, suggestion, shall we say. because, as we all know, if i were to threaten to, say, leak a bit, if not properly greased, as they used to say, well, that would be outside the bounds of propriety, not to mention, the, uh, law. no, heaven forbid, i am already on parole, and, in no position to even think of such a thing! feel free to contact me at 336.767.4857. anytime, day or night. rust never sleeps. i propbably don't need to say it, but rest assured, were i to, die, or, have an, 'accident', or, have my parole revoked, those letters would, still, believe it or not, find their way to the appropriate receivers. i, uh, wouldn't drag my feet, on this, if i were in, your position. thanks, for your time.
© Copyright 2012 nil (UN: stansfield at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
nil has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log In To Leave Feedback
Username:
Password:
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!

All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!