The Good Employee – Part 1: HR is a Globalist Plot
MrToadPatriot Mar 31st, 2020 (edited) 155 Never
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- The Wellington-Schmidt Bookseller Company was a fine place to work at. However, sometimes, employees acted too unprofessional. Sometimes, they went over the line. And sometimes, they did what is known as harassment. This is where human resources came in.
- Claire Owens was as professional as a woman could get. She was single, had a small social circle, and devoted her entire life to human resources at Wellington-Schmidt. She was the human resources representative of the Miami branch. Originally from Virginia, she experienced culture shock when she first came to Miami. People were often a few minutes late, spoke in a loud volume, and often greeted each other with a kiss or a hug. As far as she was concerned, all of the Latin peoples (not just Hispanics/Latinos, but also French, Italians, and even Romanians) should be written up for a collective HR violation of inappropriate contact. The branch manager, Frank Giordano, was an extremely boorish man who would fit better as a side character on the Sopranos than as a corporate manager. The only employees of hers that she truly respected were Connor Hughes, a supervisor who managed book orders and was always punctual and professional, and Rachel Birchwood, a receptionist who seemed too shy to be a problem.
- Today, she was conducting sensitivity training with three employees who had made inappropriate, insensitive, or even offensive comments. There was Antonio Rodriguez, a Cuban-American man who was head of sales. There was Diego Lopez-Lee, a Chinese Venezuelan-American man who was the head of shipping and distribution and the foreman of the Miami branch’s warehouse. Finally, there was Phillip Norman, a sales representative who had originally come from Louisiana.
- “Alright,” Claire began, looking at the three employees. “Do you know why you’re all here?”
- “I’m gonna guess it’s not a promotion,” Antonio joked. Diego laughed heartily, and Phillip let out a little chuckle.
- “No, Antonio,” Claire sneered. “And for that, I’m going to put disrespect and insubordination onto your record.”
- “Ay, I’m sorry,” Antonio sighed. “I was just trying to lighten the mood, no disrespect intended. No, really, we’re here because HR complaints were made against us.”
- “That’s right.” Claire pulled out three papers from a manila folder. “Now, social cohesion and cooperation in the workplace is very important. What I’m going to do is to give you these complaints, which were submitted anonymously, and you’re going to read out loud what you did and explain to me why it’s wrong. You first, Antonio.”
- “Okay.” Antonio took his complaint. “Filed against Antonio Rodriguez on February 4, 2020. Said quite loudly, “Mi hija le encanta esa mierda de reggaeton, como Bad Bunny o Ozuna, esa mierda perreo, con esas chicas con grandes nalgas,” used his hands to recreate the shape of a woman’s behind, and laughed and made eye contact with several women. Wait, that’s it?”
- “Can you provide an English translation?” Claire asked. “So for those of us who aren’t bilingual, we can understand what it means.”
- “Okay, I said, my daughter loves that reggaeton crap, like Bad Bunny or Ozuna, that perreo crap, with those girls with big butts.”
- “It’s like a dance, where the girl grinds her posterior against a man’s pelvic area. I say it like this so I don’t get inappropriate language on my record.”
- “So you admit it was inappropriate language?”
- “Yes, okay, it’s not work appropriate, but nobody at the time had an issue. Several women I looked at were laughing with me. Coño, we’re Latinos, we know what we’re talking out.”
- “Antonio, this will go by a lot quicker if you acknowledge you were in the wrong.”
- “Okay, I was wrong for talking about sexually suggestive material in the workplace, as well as making inappropriate gestures.”
- “Thank you,” Claire smiled, taking the paper back. “Now, Diego, read yours.”
- “Alright, ma’am,” Diego said. “Filed against Diego Lopez-Lee on January 31, 2020. Made a racially insensitive joke in the workplace regarding the cuisine of Chinese people. Specifically, implied that Chinese people ate dogs. Wait, are you serious?”
- “Don’t be difficult, Diego. You were in the wrong.”
- “Look, I’m Chinese, okay? Well, I’m half Chinese, but it counts. It’s not racist if I joke about myself. Also, implied? There are some places in China where they actually eat dogs! Not where my Chinese family come from, but I know it happens.”
- “Well, Diego, would it be appropriate for African Americans to use the N-word in a professional setting?”
- “No. I guess you’re right. I was wrong for making insensitive jokes, it was totally unprofessional of me. In the future, I will refrain from making such jokes in front of my blue collar coworkers in the warehouse.”
- “Thank you. Now, Phillip, why don’t you read yours?”
- “Alright,” Phillip said, picking up his paper. “Filed on February 11, 2020. Said loudly in the break room, “You know, I’m proud to be from the same state as David Duke. Better than this shithole Miami, filled to the brim with Jews, blacks, and Latin illegals. I know I’m both stronger and smarter than the lot of you because of my superior white Nordic genes,” and made a Hitler salute to Mr. Giordano when he walked in.”
- “Oye, Phillip!” Antonio gasped. “You sound just like my abuelo! Always on about los negros, los chinos, los judios, los tira flecha sudacas.”
- “Calm down!” Claire commanded. “Now, Phillip, why did you say this, and why was it wrong?”
- “Well, I said it because it’s my truth. Both sides of my family came from Normandy, in the north of France, which was originally settled by Vikings. So yeah, I do have strong Nordic genes. It’s also the truth that Miami, as a city, has large Jewish, African American, and Latino populations. And well, frankly, I do believe my genes make me stronger and smarter. I’m sorry if that’s not politically correct, but it’s my truth.”
- “Hey, look,” Antonio chimed in. “You can’t say that stuff. Plus, a lot of your “Latin” coworkers are mostly white. I know Diego’s not, cause of his Chinese half, but for me, all of my ancestors came from Spain. That’s Europe, so I’m white.”
- “Well,” Phillip sneered. “My grandmother always told me Africa begins at the Pyrenees. I don’t consider Spain, Italy, or even southern France to be white.”
- “No way in hell you’re Viking blood,” Diego laughed. “That was what, a thousand years ago? Clearly your genes would’ve been mixed with the rest of France. I mean, French is a Latin language, plus, the country’s not all that white. You might have at least a little African or Middle Eastern in there.”
- “Everyone focus!” Claire screamed. “Phillip, tell us what you did wrong or we’ll be meeting again tomorrow.”
- “I’ll tell you what,” Phillip smirked. “I’ve got three Ancestry DNA kits at home. I wager you $100 each that I am over 75% Northern or Western European.”
- “Sounds like a deal,” Diego said.
- “Can’t wait to prove you wrong,” Antonio chuckled.
- “Come by my house after work. We’ll submit them all at the same time, so we can get our results together.”
- Antonio, Diego, and Phillip all shook hands, making a deal. After this, Phillip handed his complaint back to Claire.
- “Alright,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for offending everybody’s feelings with my reasoned centrist talk on race and ethnicity. And I’m sorry for calling Mr. Giordano “Il Duce,” how was I supposed to know his uncle was killed by Mussolini’s Blackshirts?”
- “Well,” Claire groaned. “We’ve made some progress today, but I believe for you, Phillip, we have more work to do. Antonio, Diego, you can go.”
- Antonio and Diego nodded and walked out. Phillip remained behind, where Claire made him go through intense sensitivity training, also known as liberal globalist indoctrination.
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