[bak on th uh cheyn gang]: This is a tribute to James Honeyman-Scott, the Pretenders guitarist who died of a drug overdose in 1982 at age 26. Scott’s death was followed by bass player Pete Farndon’s 10 months later. Farndon had been kicked out of the band because of his drug problems and died of an overdose.
The House That God Has Forgotten Part 39: If we were a cult.
I see them as I walk past the ventilator of the kitchen. That smell of food, the angst that fills the air as I get ready to walk into The House That God Has Forgotten.
The last cigarette that is lit while walking from the train to the door.
“This will be the last time I get to smoke until I have lunch.” that girl mumbles to herself.
The other end by the door, he puts that snus in his mouth.
“I need this to get through the day.” he thinks to himself standing outside the glass doors.
Yes. Summer is over and the last of us have started walking through the doors.
We are all back on the chain gang at The House That God Has Forgotten.
It is the time of lost tags, lost codes to tags and forgotten passwords. Keys getting fumbled away and nothing but defeat as we take that cigarette r put that snus in our mouths.
When I started to walk towards IPK in the morning on Monday a rush of panic hit me.
“Oh shit. Here I am again, in The House That God Has Forgotten.”
Tales of countless people moving up and down floors (what happened to the 10th floor I wonder).
And of course the news of people quitting. Now it is not just normal corrections officers, but also the higher ups. LC, VB, etc. Have done like Elvis and are now leaving the building.
Police, försakringskassan, better jobs here and there. They will fall away and leave holes open, sores raw, and then they will be a “do you remember when?” by us that will left behind.
Then they will be replaced.
Because you are all expendable at The House That God Has Forgotten.
Only us that have stuck around will remember you, and proof once again that “Keeping the perspective” is a bunch of insane babble that makes no sense.
The words roll off of everyones tongues…
“Keeping perspective, yeah right.”
So you are expendable. Don’t think that there will be after awhile someone that trampled up into your spot will regret it. They are happy to do it, ladders are meant to be climbed.
Speculations rise. “It was not as high up as it is now, but now even they are leaving.”
Good people. Good people that are tired of being underpaid and above all under appreciated.
They say that most people do not quit because of the money, perhaps it is because they are ignored, and taken for granted for all that they do.
When was the last time your boss told you that you were important. They they took you into their office and said “I think you are a valuable member of the team.”
They could have that same conversation one by one and more people would stay.
The House That God Has Forgotten would function a lot better as a cult.
A cult with charismatic leader who preaches how we all are working for a one united cause.
And team leaders who tell us that we must work to make it up to the spirit of the leader.
That yes, we work together. We work together living off of passion for a united cause. Not HP or delivering trays of food to inmates, but because we are individuals doing a job that needs to be done.
If the system worked like Scientologly or the Jehovas Whitness we would have a “keeping perspective” oasis.
People would not quit, they would say on their floors and they would not even think of looking for something new.
I wrote a letter once. 6 pages long about everything I see that is wrong with The House That God Has Forgotten.
How bosses need to be leaders. How we need to stop bullying each other. How things need to change.
Some did for a short time, but now things are back to the status quo.
Bosses to me will always be bosses, never leaders. I have not met one that has impressed me yet. It is more important to sit in meetings and talk about us than it is to be with us.
They do not even know us or what we do because even though if they worked somewhere else before, they were never a corrections officer at The House That God Has Forgotten.
If they did work there at another position halfway near us, they have forgotten and instead have decided to not answer their calls.
“Hey..my daughter is sick and I need to go home” is a process that takes way too long to get there, because you are spending too much time trying to let your boss know that you are leaving.
They need one of those bluetooth ear pods to keep their hands free so they actually can listen and just take those few seconds to leave the room.
We do not call them because “someone is being mean to me mom and dad” we have our reasons. They get paid to answer us.
If they were the cult leaders they would listen. Because well…they would want our money, our effort (standing outside handing out pamphlets and getting ignored).
It would help with recruiting, it would keep people believing, it would “keep the perspective”
Now as I look around I see my friends leaving. That grabbing of my chair as I am sitting there in front of the computer that they do. (who will I ask for writing advice when you are gone).
That guy reminding me that a lawyer has waited for an elevator and would like to go down.
That man that does not say much, but you know he is a really nice guy.
What will I do? I will not forgot the guy that called me boat refugee.
I instead will wonder who will replace them. Will they be as fun to talk to? Will I say hello to them?
I left the 5th floor a year and a half ago. I do not know who half the people are that work there are. They have become mindless faces that I do not have any contact with.
“That guy with the glasses that looks like a guy who worked here once”
or “hey what ever happened to…”
Someone new will take their place. Someone I do not know. Someone maybe I do know (depending on what job it is).
If we were a cult at The House That God Has forgotten, it would take a lot to leave because you would loose a big part of your life.
But here… you loose nothing. You just get your pride back.