A Surprise Lunch Crush

The rest were from Anita wanting to know when I'd be home, and that we needed to talk, but no indication of remorse or that I was aware of her conduct. Was Anita just arrogant or indifferent to her cheating for so long, it did not really matter? Was she trying to impregnate herself with another man's child to pass it off as mine? Why would she do that - did she hate me that much? Why did I not see or sense she had such contempt for me?

I lay in my hotel bed and kept thinking of what had I done wrong? Why would Anita do this to me? Was ten years of marriage a joke, a fluke, just to be a memory? I wondered how she would spin this to her parents. Well, her sister was a cheater, and I knew her mom was on husband number two? Could cheating be a genetic condition? I woke with a start when the room phone rang with a wakeup call. I never knew I fell asleep. I didn't feel rested.

On the way into work, I stopped by the Verizon store and bought a new cellphone, an Inmarsat IsatPro2 with the encryption VPN module on a new unlisted number that was set up to block all phone numbers not in my contact list, unless I physically unblocked that contact or call. I had a company cellphone with international calling, but I wanted this for personal use from anywhere in the world. Not cheap, but effective. I added my bro, Lizzy, and Frank as contacts, ensuring unblocked reception. Then I sent a text to these three, with my conditions of never ever sharing this number without my prior approval, and no call will ring through if it is not listed in my phone's contact list, now they all had my new number.

I picked up my tickets, travel allowance, and international driver's license. I grabbed my company notebook, swapped my corporate Blackberry for a new phone number Blackberry, went to human resources to complete some forms, dropping Anita from my benefits and retirement, making my bro the beneficiary. And I gave them my new bank account number for check deposits and to share with New Zealand XYZ.

Frank slid me a piece of paper with the name, address, personal details of Anita's paramour, a Frank P. Kawalski, Esquire. Working at a different firm in the same building, Kawalski specialized in bankruptcy law and had a girlfriend (Anita) for over a year. I was shell-shocked, I never saw it coming, Anita had earned an Oscar.

I then told Frank that she went into a big show of dumping her birth-control pills into the toilet just over a month ago, as she stated it was time to start a family. Rhetorically, I asked, what the hell was that all about? Did she want to cover for a feared pregnancy with her boy-toy? We'd only had sex on that pill-dumping night and I bet she did not remember that little detail. Oh well, I am gone.

I reconfirmed with Frank my new personal cell number. Frank drove me to the airport after dropping off my truck at his barn. Frank was storing and using my truck while I was gone, as his wife has four horses on their twenty-five-acre hobby farm.

Traveling to a new adventure:

Off to LAX to see my brother, and then to New Zealand to take over the plant as general manager. Curt would be with me the first week to introduce me and bring me up to speed.

Gee, it was great to see my brother and we man-hugged each other for ten minutes, as I teased him about his new grays peeking out from his garrison cap. "Mikey you're getting o-o-old, you look like dad."

"Haha, little brother, I can still whoop your ass."

(Of that I was sure, even though I go to the gym three times a week and run five miles every week.) Mikey's life depended upon his endurance, stamina, strength, and devious smarts. Mikey was a solid rock. I often called him Gunny Highway after Clint Eastwood's character.

I proceeded to fill in Mikey about all I knew and what I could deduce. Mikey agreed with all my deductions but two. First, that I should have kicked Frank Kawalski's ass for stealing my name to screw Anita lover life up but she was not worth any jail time. Second, I should have told Anita off but leaving her hanging was good and cruel, too. I knew eventually Anita would call Mikey and get nothing but disdain from him. Actually, it was Frank Kawalski who should start running and running fast and far, as I know my bro would do something bad to him. If Anita wanted Frank's kids, then she better get it done quickly as Frank may never be able to have kids when my bro finds him. Of course, that is just speculation.

While I was with my bro BS-ing, I looked at my old cellphone and saw there were lots of texts, and that my voice mailbox was full, not taking any more calls. I looked at the latest text demanding, "WHERE R U". Then, "PLEASE come home we need to talk".

I finally texted Anita while copying her father, "Why U need to talk, U have lunch DATE with FRANK KAWALSKI every Mon, Wed, Fri. He's UR Wed hotel date 4 the last YR? Or were U feeding me his sloppy seconds each Wed?"

"And what the hell was BS dumping pills in the toilet showing me U want to start our family 2mos ago? Who would be father since we not had sex in +2mos?"

I got no reply from Anita, but my phone showed she got the text.

Her father texted, "Anita what the hell have you done?"

Anita's the type who think if you deny it long enough it never happened?!?

I left my cellphone on for the next twelve hours. In the morning, I put the phone in 'airplane mode' then turned it off and put the phone in a gray-metallized Ziplock ESD (electrostatic discharge) bag - no RF in and NO RF out - inhibiting any hacker remotely turn-on or locating the nearest cell tower to the phone. Since the battery is not easily removed, RF blocking is the next best thing. I would have put my cellphone in a metal filing cabinet or gun safe, but that was not possible.

Mikey chuckled at what I just texted; he stated he would NOW return my man-card to me. I told him to shove it, I was hurting, ten-plus years right down the shitter. I was so blindsided. I really wanted a family. I am a failure.

The next day, with Mikey in full working khaki uniform with all his fruit salad (twelve rows) with recon badges, we man-hugged and I told him to remember to duck. "The only real 'hero' is the one who never comes back, so don't be a 'hero' as I'm going to make you an uncle. And they will need Uncle Mikey."

The big gallute had tears in his eyes, as I did. He whispered in my ear, "All we have now is each other, bro."

I stepped back one pace snapping him a heart-felt salute.

He barked, "I AIN'T NO STINKIN' OFFICER, SQUID, I WORK FOR A LIVING!" and we cracked up, laughing at all the spectators' alarm. A few uniformed USN flyboys just walked by with disdain on their faces, but seeing Mikey's chest with eleven rows of ribbons topped with Navy/Marine Distinguished Service and Silver Star they wisely refrained from commenting. I proceeded to walk into the international concourse TSA security check line for my flight.

God, I was already missing Mikey... We never have enough time together.

New Zealand bound:

I arrived in Christchurch, waiting in the baggage area as Curt was late for my pick-up. Or is this a power game by Curt, we shall see. It was time for me to focus; I had a special job to do - now to earn my General Manager and Vice-President titles. I was pondering to myself, technically, I outranked Curt as he was never made vice-president just the plant general manager, oh well so what? Production was down and employees were not happy. I had one week to soak it all up from Curt and then he would fly to USA and an unknown future. Sucks to be Curt, but he was not my problem.

One thing about the international date line going to New Zealand you get to relive yesterday again. When going back to the USA you skip a whole day, crazy. I'd done this day-hopscotch over a dozen times, talk about jet lag on a flight that takes twenty-one hours from LAX. Real glad they put me in first class in the 747 penthouse. The 747 may be getting long in the tooth, but that penthouse is the only place to do long hauls!

Curt drove to the plant and showed me his old and my new office. I got a cup of coffee and went to the executive conference room to meet all the managers and senior staff. Introductions were made, and then Curt read the official company email of the change of plant control upon my arrival. One thing that stood out was the almost-too-casual dress code. I like it as a Friday thing, or if they actually worked on the shop floor, but otherwise, if the office looks sloppy, it thinks sloppy, it is sloppy. Changes are coming and with them, improved self-respect. I need to set the office example.

I told management and staff I would be meeting with each person within the week.

"Please have a list of projects, tasks, needs with status, ready for me to review at our meeting. I'm sure that rumors are running rampant as to my purpose. It is true the CEO asked me to come here, NOT as a hatchet man. But let's face it, this plant's production numbers are not what it has done in the past or is capable of.

"I'm a fixer, I'm an engineer, I will dig until I find the problem, then 'W.E.' will fix it. Did you hear me clearly, I said WE, as in double-U-E will fix it. Since YOU know your area the best, I need your help so WE can find and create solutions. I will be asking some very pointed and leading questions; I expect answers. Know, however, if I get resistance, I have the authority to hire and fire, period. I don't like wasting legacy talent and resources, so let's do this dance as partners. Thank you. Please carry on with your duties."

All the people filed out of the room and I could hear lots of chatter.

I asked Curt who had the best feel for what the floor thinks. Curt just looked at me with a blank face. Curt didn't know his own people worth a shit and he's been here for over four years. I asked Curt to take me to Human Resources.

I went to the HR manager and asked her for all my managers' and staff personnel files. I wanted them on my desk first thing tomorrow morning. That would start some gossip, but I needed to know who they were and how they had been performing, per Curt?!? I soon realize Curt was no more help for me but now a hindrance.

I asked Curt. Do you have some packing to do for your trip home? He got my message and told me he would see me tomorrow. Curt told me there was a company Land Rover in the GM's parking space for me, to see Carol the executive assistant for anything I needed. Curt then took off and I was glad he left, as he was giving me the creeps. I stripped off my coat and tie and began a plant walkabout (sorry that's Australia speak, hell it works here, too). I got the fashionably-sexy plastic safety glasses at the door and began walking between the yellow lines, where safety shoes are not required. My dress safety loafers are still packed.

I was walking through the welding area when I saw a man having problems handling a sixteen-foot I-beam he was trying to jig up. I walked over and grabbed one end to help him place the metal into the jig. I held it, while he set the clamps. He had gloves and I didn't, my hands were now black and greasy.

He tossed me a red machinist rag to wipe off what I could. He then saw no safety shoes and said in his quaint accent, that I needed to get back in between the lines. "There is some uptight Yank taking over today, and I do not need any troubles from some prick-Yank-know-it-all."

I dutifully jumped back between the lines and kept walking.

As I was walking further into the plant, I heard this god-awful screeching. I went looking for the noise. I found this petite, maybe five-foot-nothing woman, dragging a propane tank that was nearly as big as her, across the floor towards a forklift truck. A six-foot-six-inch monster was leaning against the truck BS-ing with two other men. He began berating her for being slow. I grabbed the LP tank and slung it up on my shoulder. I then barked in his ear - "Where does it go?" He jumped and then smugly told me to replace the empty tank on the forklift. Hell, that fork LP tank mount was higher than the woman was tall. This goon offered no help, so I asked him for help.

He loudly told me he only drives the forklift, he does not maintain them.

That pissed me off, as he was willing to create a safety issue by being just a lazy ass. I put the tank down next to his foot and I told him, as of this moment, "Part of your duties as a fork truck driver, is to fuel your own forklift."

Of course, he snapped around and shouted, "Who the fuck are you to telling me anything - get the fuck out of my face!"

I asked him if he was good at driving this forklift, as the others chuckled.

"Yeah, I'm good enough, who the fuck are you?"

I showed him my company badge and I asked to see his, he refused to show me. I turned to the woman who had a deer-in-the-headlights look, and told her to please get security here, now. She took off running to the security office, and in moments, two security men came running, one being the site security manager.

I told the security manager, "Please escort this man to HR and process termination of his employment." Then I turned to the goon, and stated loudly, "I'm Dale Palidin, the new Yank general manager for this plant and Vice President of XYZ company. You refused to show me your ID, you were rude and insubordinate, and wasting company time in a BULLSHIT session. You refused a request for help to maintain safety when you refused to assist me in placing this full propane tank onto YOUR forklift. You are hereby FIRED. Security, escort this person off company grounds via Personnel."

The other guys jumped, and began putting the propane tank onto the forklift, securing the hold-down straps and connecting the gas hose.

The goon said, "Okay smart ass, who will drive the forklift for the rest of the shift and not put us all behind schedule..."

I looked directly into his eyes and said, "I will. Now, get him out of here." I jumped into the fork truck chair, adjusted the mirrors, popped on the seatbelt and asked the woman, "What do you want me to do, boss?"

I then turned my head to the two collaborators, and asked, "Do you have something to do?" They jumped and ran off. I unstrapped the seatbelt and jumped down to do a proper introduction to this lady.

I put my dirty hand out and said, "I'm Dale Palidin, who may you be?"

She had tears in her eyes, saying, "I'm Penelope."

"And your position here?"

"I'm the maintenance coordinator."

"Do you often refuel forklifts?"

"No, but Clyde told me to do it."

"And who is Clyde?"

"He is the guy you just fired."

"Did you work for him or did he work for you?"

"Well, he is supposed to work for me, but he never listens, and he scares the hell out of most of us." (Ahhh, a bully. Well, one down more to come.)

I then stated, "You will never ever touch another propane tank. If you need help and no one will do as you instruct, you call me." I jumped back into the fork seat and asked Penelope, "What needs to be done?" Penelope pointed to empty pallets telling me they need to go to shipping for reuse.

I forked the empties into a stack then grabbed the stack of empty pallets and drove down through the plant to shipping. By the time I got to shipping, all employees within sight were busy little bees. Gossip travels fast in this place.

The shipping manager came running out with his mouth agape looking at me. I asked him where he wanted these empties. He pointed, and I stacked them up. He remained standing there, not sure what to do. I drove up to him and asked, "Do you have work to accomplish?" and all he could do was nod yes. "Well, then go to work." Looks like I scared the shit out of him, as I suspected that no one from the front office ever got this deep into the plant.

One of the two BS-ers came running up to me and asked if he could take over driving the forklift. I asked him if he had a company fork license, and he began digging for it in his wallet. Anyone who would go digging is truthful, so I told him to please take over. I filed it away to talk to HR about laminating our company forklift licenses and have them carried with their company badges for easier and faster spot checking.

I walked into the shipping office, sitting down for a breather. What I did not know was that no one sits in that chair, unless they have business or permission with the very large Black woman who was the load coordinator.

She never looked up at me, but asked, "What can I do for you?"

I said, "Nothing. I'm just taking a breather in your air conditioning."

That was when she looked up at me and stared directly into my eyes (she scared the shit out of me). She politely said, "Only employees are allowed in this office, and no one rests in my chairs."

I waved my badge. Then it was like a light bulb flipped on (I suspected my non-New Zealand accent tipped her off).

"Are YOU the new YANK sheriff in town?"

My simple reply was, "Guilty."

She cracked up laughing, then said, "It is about damn time someone kicks some lazy asses around here, mate!" With that, she said, "I'm Marsha," and pumped her hand out for a hearty shake.

I then asked, "Did my little altercation already get here?"

"Oh, hell yes mate. We all love that Clyde was your first ass kicking - he was a true wanker. But watch your back outside the company, he is known to be vengeful."

"Good to know, thanks."

The plant horn sounded and you could hear the noise level drop noticeably. Lunch time. I followed the masses to the cafeteria, that was nothing but vending machines and microwaves. I saw few to no one using the vending machines. I went to one, to get something, and saw a cockroach in the bin. Note to self, get HR and Health-n-Safety on this ASAP.

I sat and drank a coffee, while watching and listening. A few spotted the new guy but most did not even look at me, until Penelope sat across from me. Marsha looked to be holding court at her table and kept winking at me. Unnerving... Penelope wanted to know all about the USA; she was an infectious firecracker of joviality. She was at least fifteen years younger than me, but fun to listen to her quaint, Kiwi natural-speaking accent, like listening to a songbird.

I had found the person who had the heartbeat of the plant and it was Marsha. She was a big woman with graying hair, but an ear-to-ear smile of bright whites. When she laughed, the room shook. Near the end of lunch, I approached Marsha asking her to join me tomorrow in my office at 9:00am for coffee. She, at first, barked, "But who will do my job if I'm missing?"

I told her to get an assistant and teach them what to do. She immediately smiled ear-to-ear.

After lunch, I walked into the HR manager's office, asking him when was the last time the cafeteria was steam-cleaned, including the vending machines. He said never.

You will get a steam-cleaning and pest-control service in here this weekend. Move all vending machines outside and steam clean the entire lunchroom and adjacent rooms, then open every vending machine giving them a solid steam clean. Then restock the machines with good FRESH food, if we need a new service - get them, but keep the employee prices low. Starting Monday, during ALL breaks the coffee-tea-soup machines will dispense FREE beverages - put it on my budget.

You will have a pest service spray all areas adjacent to the cafeteria, weekly. If I see one living cockroach, the service will be terminated and replaced, ASAP. If any employee gets sick due to over-spraying pesticides, they will be replaced with a different service company, period. Now make it happen, thank you.

Next, I asked the HR manager if he knew how many employees both women and men had pre-school or grade-school children? He told me he did not know. I looked at an HR lady staring at me, sitting at a desk. I asked her the same question. She replied nearly thirty-five to forty kids.