† SINISTER PUBLICATIONS†

So while I was driving to work, Run the Jewels was playing, and I heard the infamous “bag of dicks” line. Immediately, my brain started going crazy.

A week ago, I wanted to write this piece, but I felt like I’d already written too many rants about life sucking ass and luck being a total rat bastard. Then I heard that line and thought, maybe this is a divine sign.

Write it.

Rant about it.

Let the hatred flow.

Recently, though, I’ve actually been in a pretty good mood. I’m not really mad at the world. I’ve mostly become an observer, letting thoughts drift in one ear and out the other. Sometimes they find another exit, but that’s a story for another day.

Anyway, let’s get started.

One of the supervisors I work with recently transferred to another department, leaving his position open and I already know the gig, work the gig… hell, I AM the gig. I thought about applying for an hour or two.

Pros and cons, baby.

Mostly cons.

The schedule sucked. It was a hybrid setup with three swing shifts and two graveyard shifts, plus Tuesday and Wednesday off. The pros? Maybe a dollar more an hour and the privilege of parking inside.

Still, I applied.

Now, this place isn’t the best place to work, but it’s definitely not the worst either. Like many government contractor environments, it’s riddled with quarrels, nepotism, favoritism, and all the wonderful surprises that HR somehow manages to unleash upon mankind.

I had a feeling they’d bring in someone from the outside. Someone they knew.

The problem is that our department isn’t the kind of place where you can hit the ground running. There’s a learning curve.

A pretty steep one.

I figured I had about a 50/50 chance of getting the position. Since I wasn’t completely sold on it, I uploaded an okay résumé. Not some elite, battle-tested, seal-team-six résumé. Just something decent enough with the right buzzwords they were looking for.

I approached the interview the same way.

Friendly.

Relaxed.

Nonchalant.

Maybe not as professional as I could have been, but the interviewers already knew me, and I knew them.

Then there was the elephant in the room.

Years ago, I had an accident that left me needing FMLA for appointments and other chronic complications. I knew that might hurt my chances.

But honestly?

I didn’t care.

I flipped the coin and let fate decide.

Well, fate has apparently chosen chaos.

From what I’m hearing, they’re hiring someone they know. Someone with no real knowledge of our department. That means at least a month of training, waiting for clearances, and a HUGE possibility that this new supervisor is going to clash with our power-hungry, ethically challenged leadership.

If that happens, it’s going to be must-see TV.

So for the next few months, everyone in my department may end up eating a giant bag of dicks while management figures things out.

As for me?

I’ll be sitting back with my popcorn, watching the drama unfold like it’s the “Thriller” video circa 1983.

Y’all enjoy that bag of dicks.

I’ll be over here laughing.