The saga at work continued today as I signed in and was immediately tapped by the boss to go talk to him in his office.

“Linc, you made a lot of mistakes yesterday on the phone.”

No sh–, Sherlock. Maybe it might just have something to do with the fact that I’m HEARING IMPAIRED??

“Well, like I indicated earlier, I have trouble with the phones because of my hearing loss, which is compounded by the fact that during those hours, we usually get calls from clerks who are hard to understand and speak broken English.”

“Ok, but it’s your responsibility to get those calls and accurately take down the information.”

What the hell??

“Dude, my responsibility only goes so far as I am properly accommodated,” I said, barely managing to contain my anger. “We all had an understanding here that there would always be someone with me to handle the phones, so this situation is usually avoided altogether. That’s the way it’s been done for years, and we’ve never had a problem.”

“Well I’m no longer authorizing overtime, so there won’t be people available to stay at those hours.”

“If Mickey or Prue agree to come in at 9 instead of 6:30AM, that should help cover the hours, and there won’t be any need for overtime, right?”

“……………………………”

“Right??”

“It won’t work.”

“Why not?”

Then he gave me this song and dance about how I would have to draw up a proposal, that the union would need to get involved, and he would have to present it to his boss, who would then have to sign off on it, blah blah blah…. I looked at him like he had lost his mind. The workers in my division have had to change working hours continuously over the past few years, but whenever a change needed to be made, it never needed anything more than a simple verbal agreement from our former bosses. So it was understandable that I was left to wonder what in the blue frick this guy was talking about. I realized though that I was getting fed the same bull as before when I made the scheduling request to have my hours changed so I could attend law school. I knew now that he had been jerking me around since the beginning.

And then he said something I’ll never forget.

“Look, if you’re not willing to take on the responsibility of answering the phones, we may be forced to dock your pay.”

“So because I have a hearing disability, I should be punished because you refuse to accommodate me?”

I think he realized his slip, because he started to backpedal. But the cat had already been out of the bag. He had just broken federal law with his threat, crossing a line that kindled something fierce inside me. I had been wronged. My coworkers had been wronged. He was a bully, a liar, and a horrible supervisor. And now I was going to make him pay. I was out for blood. I felt a charge in my veins, and a light somewhere inside my head went on. I knew what it was too: the unmistakable and unquenchable thirst for JUSTICE. It fed my desire to get into law enforcement. It was what fueled my efforts to pursue law school.

And now it had been kicked into overdrive.

I drew up a letter that detailed every grievance I had with him, along with the grievances my coworkers also had. I also got out my camera and took pictures of the mouse droppings that have been on the desks. Armed with all this, I went to see my union rep, a spunky lady who had successfully gone to bat for us in the past, and laid it all out for her. People high up the chain of command were notified, a buzz of activity had taken place behind the scenes, and I now find myself gearing up for what is sure to be an interesting (and perhaps volatile) confrontation tomorrow with my good boss when he realizes what I’ve done.

War has been declared.