I'd quit, but I can't afford to. I'd go find something else, but I don't know how to do anything else.
(I don't know how to do this, either, and as soon as management cottons on, I'm toast).
So you guys get unions? In my day, we had to beg for our jobs, and we were grateful! You get paid? In my day, we had to work for free, and we had to build the airplane, too. And we were grateful! You kids get to work two days? In my day, ever day was a work day, and we worked, boy. We scrubbed lav, drove the rivet, and even rotated the air in the tires, but not by hand. Not on your life! We had to blow into them, I can't tell you how many guys blew out their eardrums, and one joe, pete I think they called him popped out an eyeball once. Just before his squeeze came. But we didn't complain. We knew where we stood. I telll you, we were grateful.
You and your fancy cars. Driving to work! Ha! In my day, we had to crawl, because nobody could afford shoes. None of this two tier salary stuff, we had to crawl using old carpets we dug out of the dump, and it was winter. Cold, I tell you. Cold, and wet, and it was uphill. Both ways. But those twenty miles each way went by fast, because we were thinking about our jobs and how lucky we were to have them. We were so very grateful! Even when the dogs came, and ripped off our clothing. That's why we started wearing epaulets, you know. Gave the dogs something to bite at, without losing the collarbone. I can take the ankles and even the back. But that collarbone sure hurt. It was nothing compared to standing in the unemployment line, so we were grateful!
**CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** kids these days, complain about their wings. You're lucky to have them. In my day, we had to flap our arms. Run fast and flap, and if that don't hurt after a couple of hours, you haven't felt pain. But it was a good pain, because we were doing our jobs, and those were two hours that we weren't on our knees on rotted carpet in the wet snow with dog teeth in our backs. If only our arms had hurt a little more...now that would have been somethign to be grateful for. Especially after we got cuts where the straps on our arms started to wear, because when we landed, the only deice back then was rock salt. And they didn't put it in water, boy. Oh no. THey poured it on, and for a quick turn, they used rock salt in shotguns. That hurt but it kept the ice off, and we were very grateful.
We didn't say bitching, either, boy. No bitching for us. These days kids say bitchin because it sounds bitchin, even if it's not whining or women they're talking about. Back then we didn't do bitchin. we just got married and suffered under the wrath of giant strong amazon women who hated to fly and hated us more. But we were grateful, even if we had to sleep outside and watch the dogs that bit our backs sleep on the couch, getting hair all over our molded carpets. We were grateful. Oh yeah. We were grateful.
So quit yer bitchin.
(I don't know how to do this, either, and as soon as management cottons on, I'm toast).
So you guys get unions? In my day, we had to beg for our jobs, and we were grateful! You get paid? In my day, we had to work for free, and we had to build the airplane, too. And we were grateful! You kids get to work two days? In my day, ever day was a work day, and we worked, boy. We scrubbed lav, drove the rivet, and even rotated the air in the tires, but not by hand. Not on your life! We had to blow into them, I can't tell you how many guys blew out their eardrums, and one joe, pete I think they called him popped out an eyeball once. Just before his squeeze came. But we didn't complain. We knew where we stood. I telll you, we were grateful.
You and your fancy cars. Driving to work! Ha! In my day, we had to crawl, because nobody could afford shoes. None of this two tier salary stuff, we had to crawl using old carpets we dug out of the dump, and it was winter. Cold, I tell you. Cold, and wet, and it was uphill. Both ways. But those twenty miles each way went by fast, because we were thinking about our jobs and how lucky we were to have them. We were so very grateful! Even when the dogs came, and ripped off our clothing. That's why we started wearing epaulets, you know. Gave the dogs something to bite at, without losing the collarbone. I can take the ankles and even the back. But that collarbone sure hurt. It was nothing compared to standing in the unemployment line, so we were grateful!
**CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** kids these days, complain about their wings. You're lucky to have them. In my day, we had to flap our arms. Run fast and flap, and if that don't hurt after a couple of hours, you haven't felt pain. But it was a good pain, because we were doing our jobs, and those were two hours that we weren't on our knees on rotted carpet in the wet snow with dog teeth in our backs. If only our arms had hurt a little more...now that would have been somethign to be grateful for. Especially after we got cuts where the straps on our arms started to wear, because when we landed, the only deice back then was rock salt. And they didn't put it in water, boy. Oh no. THey poured it on, and for a quick turn, they used rock salt in shotguns. That hurt but it kept the ice off, and we were very grateful.
We didn't say bitching, either, boy. No bitching for us. These days kids say bitchin because it sounds bitchin, even if it's not whining or women they're talking about. Back then we didn't do bitchin. we just got married and suffered under the wrath of giant strong amazon women who hated to fly and hated us more. But we were grateful, even if we had to sleep outside and watch the dogs that bit our backs sleep on the couch, getting hair all over our molded carpets. We were grateful. Oh yeah. We were grateful.
So quit yer bitchin.
