162 IQ Lou and the Reliant Foods Job

 "Hell is the impossibility of reason".

That's a movie quote, from Oliver Stone's "Platoon", it's a keeper and I probably think about it every day these days while we all watch the insanity of the Trump regime play out, but the reality of it is, trumpiness has always been with us long before Trump darkened our lives. It's almost enough to make you believe in the Devil. But if you believe in the Devil, you have to believe in God and that whole Bible business. Try and reason that shit out! If God is so great (as heard in song and prayer) why did he invent the Devil and then let the Devil beat him up and down the court, all game every game? Who does that? 

Eh, I don't want to get all up in religion. It's pointless and it can get you killed. I'd rather talk about my old boss, 162 IQ Lou. I did a job for Reliant Foods in Memphis- the one in Tennessee, a couple decades ago. I was working for Ratmo Construction LLC (Lousy Lying Cocksuckers) at the time, and because I was the first to show up on the job, it was "my job". Ratmo didn't have foremen, per se, because if they did, it would necessitate a bump in pay, and nobody (in the office) wants that. So, 162 IQ Lou or his understudy, Little Jimmy, would call you up the night before and tell you to meet them at a jobsite early and they'd walk the job with you. Thus, de factoly speaking, it was "your" job, or often enough, "my job". 

Now, briefly, because I think I may have mentioned this before, Lou was 162 IQ Lou because he had bragged to me and my buddy, Stever that he had taken 10 IQ tests and gotten his score up to 162. I *jokingly* told Lou that he wasn't supposed to add up the results from each test. Stever loved it and Lou sorta acted like he saw the humor in it, but you never know with southerners. They have a saying: "A southerner will smile at you, until they figure it's time to kill you". They might be kidding about that, but then again, they might not. 

I was fine running work because I knew what to do and when to do it and I could roll with the punches and better me than a half dozen other guys on the crew who acted like running work was like being an overseer in the old plantation days. A couple seemed thisclose to thinking they had the power of life and death over their subjects. These guys thought they were going to be somebody in the office one day. Well, no, they were not. Those positions were already filled, and they weren't making any more of them. I got that. I was Yankee and a suspected liberal and I was okay with that even if they were not. A man has to know his limitations, as well as the limitations of others. 

Reliant Foods went well, all things considered. My beef was that Little Jimmy kept sending me deadbeats that I didn't need and I had no control over that. It's tough enough to keep guys busy when you are caught up, without then having to find something for 3 or 4 other loafers to do. Silly. Unproductive. Did they even really care about payroll? 

Turns out they did! All the important people were thrilled with how the job turned out- the tenant, the General Contractor and whoever else. Not thrilled was Little Jimmy and 162 IQ Lou. I found out later that *I* went $2,000 over budget on labor and another $2,000 on materials. On a big job like that, that's a fucking win. I don't know all the ins and outs of estimating in construction, but I know it's not an exact science. It's guesstimating by a guy who has never picked up a brush in his life, or ran a Skil saw. They are mathamagicians and make big bucks for their boss. Good for them.

The thing was, not a word was said to me about anything being wrong with my job until 6 months later when I patted myself on the back and mentioned Reliant Food to Little Jimmy. He did not think I did a good job because of the labor and materials, and he told me so. We had words. How could *I* be over on labor when I had NO control over who HE sent me to put to work? He didn't have a good answer for that because the correct answer was that HE went over on labor, not me. Materials? Break it down for me. He couldn't nor wouldn't do that. It just was what it was.

So, I went above his five-foot short head to 162. Lou told me he had launched an investigation into the job. That investigation evidently didn't include interviewing me about any discrepancies or even fucking telling me about them. I would not have heard a word had I not patted myself on the back that day. That's kinda suspect, isn't it? But that was Ratmo- one Top Secret investigation after another. 

Once Lou had told me I had done something on a job that I had absolutely not done. I do not recall what it was, just that I righteously denied it. 

"Well, you would deny that, wouldn't you?" 

MOTHERFUCKER! I asked Lou who had told him that, and he said he couldn't reveal his source.

"Oh, so you're the fucking Washington Post now??!!"

But that was Lou. Whoever got to Lou first, got to Lou best. 162 IQ Lou was only our supervisor because his brother was vice president of Ratmo. I was so glad that his brother wasn't Chief of Police, or my ass (and others) would be in jail because he'd solve crimes by being told by someone else whodunnit, like the actual criminal. 

This is why the current goings on in Washington (the one in DC) don't surprise me. It saddens and angers me, but I'm not surprised. There is incompetency at every level in life. I never assume that, just because someone is in a position of authority that they belong there. Not much you can do about it. You just smile, until it's time.