Today was strike day at work. I, for various reasons including not wanting to miss a day of pay and not agreeing with fundamental reason for strike, crossed the picket line. It was actually a rather nasty experience.
I understood, from documentaries and movies, that crossing the picket line would not be pleasant. But I thought, naively, that as I knew these people things might be alright. Alas... I arrived at my usual time (i.e. hours before these folks are normally even awake) to find a small picket line had already been formed by some of the housing officers. I immediately greeted them warmly which put them on the back foot but with the aid of a Unison official they were quickly back on message trying desperately to stop me getting into the building. I was pretty perturbed by their questioning and glad I hadn't joined the strike given that I'd be supporting this sort of thing. I made it only to realise... I hadn't stocked up on enough Diet Coke to survive the day.
Others soon arrived all telling me of their own harrowing journey through the doors... slowly the crowd outside the office grew and megaphones were brought out meaning a very unpeaceful morning at work, broken only when I dashed out through the picket to the shop. I made it back but foolishly smiled at a former colleague turned bouncer who immediately rushed me in an effort to persuade me not to cross again. I dived through the doors just in time before the heavies could move in to question me further...
It was all rather nasty until, at 1pm, they all went home. Just disappeared. USELESS!
Anyway, it'll be interesting to see how the office mood goes tomorrow when those same people who were rather unpleasant to me yesterday come asking for help.
If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist
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