"Richard," the booming voice echoed from the thin plastering they called a wall as my boss, and the Station Manager, Clive called from his office.
"Can you come in here for a moment?" he finished his sentence.
As you could probably tell by now I am Richard, at this point in my life I was 22 and had been working on the confusing-entanglement of tracks that was the Sydney Train Network in Australia for approximately two years.
I wasn't anything fancy in my mind. I worked long hours, usually 8-12 a day depending on the next staff change and who had called in sick, I travelled almost two hours each way to and from work each day, and I was a husband and dotting father to my first born son.
Clive on the other hand was a prick! He was in his mid-to-late 70s had been on the job it seemed since they built the system a century ago, the type of boss that when you were on the cleaning roster would literally pull on the white glove and run his finger across the TOP of the door checking for dirt.
Everyone hated him, but it was just easier to agree with him and do what he wanted than to try to fight him, otherwise you'd be on the crappiest part of the roster for eternity or until someone else pissed him off.
He, and his team of Deputy Managers, had this way of somehow giving you a warning or a 'breach notice' for not turning up to work, when the day before you looked at the fortnightly roster and saw your Day Off was still there. Someone between the time you left and the time you were getting the warning decided that no you don't get a day off instead you are going to do overtime but we are not going to tell you.
Taking all of this into account it was easy to see why and how it was so easy to get on his bad side with the amount of people they were giving warnings to.
Anyway, Clive was in his mid to late 70s, balding hair which he desperately tried so much to do that combover thing when they really don't have enough hair. And was grossly overweight. Yep you know the type of guy, and manager I am talking about.
"Close the door behind you and take a seat would you?" Although he framed it as a question I knew it was more a direction. I did as I was told, I closed the door and took a seat in the uncomfortable chair we were always expected to sit in where he sat opposite us behind his big desk and in his fancy Executive Luxury Chair that swivelled.
"Chris (one of his Duty Managers) said that you left early yesterday. Do you care to explain?" Clive said.
"There was word of a breakdown in the City Circle meaning big delays, we had a train arriving at the station heading to my place and I asked DM Chris if I could leave 5 minutes early so I could catch that train." I replied -- recounting the day before when all of what I had said had happened.
"There is no record of your conversation with DM Chris!" Clive said in his stern tone, as if he had just spring the I Gotcha Moment.
"Well isn't that an issue for Chris then? I asked he said yes, otherwise it could be hours before I could get home and I was due back here in just 8 hours. Your records would only show me clocking off not the hours I'd have to wait and then travel to get home. But I couldn't do it for me, I couldn't do it for my family, and I couldn't do it to the passengers this is meant to be a safety critical position, we have mandated rest periods that none of you give a fuck about." I had lost my temper, this type of crap had gone on long enough and with my already lack of sleep, the fact it had been 12 days since my last day off and today was the final shift I had before I finally got a day-off, and I was at my wits-end.
I know it may seem wrong of me but you guys didn't have to work with him and his cronies for the two years I already had, with this bullshit going on daily to someone on the job. We had lost many good Customer Service Attendants due to this guy, his boi-crew and people like that across the whole network.
"YOU WILL STOP, YOU WILL LOWER YOUR VOICE AND YOU WILL LISTEN!" Clive said standing up from his behind his desk, his face glowing red, spittle flying from his mouth and banging the table with the palms of his hands as he stood up.
I shit myself. I thought I had gone too far and was about to loose my job. I had that sinking moment where I was scared as to what was coming next, what I was going to tell my wife, and how I was going to explain how I had lost such an easy gig considering it was within a Government Department.
Clive then lowered his voice, my face maybe frozen in fear or regret I don't know. But he sat on the edge of his desk looking at me and things felt at ease.
"With what just happened here you should be fired!" he said a sly smirk coming across his face.
"But I understand things are stressful, at work, at home. And sometimes you need an outlet." This guy who I had always thought was a prick had this kind of caring side, I had noticed he had said the word 'should' and that meant another chance.
"I am willing to give you a second chance. I am impressed with the work you do around here and things have been running more smoothly since you moved location," he started, referring to my role being moved from working on the platforms to working at the information desk for all of the visitors to the city that needed a helping hand to know where to go.
