Se­cret Story

LIzzie, 34, got an idea af­ter scrub­bing the uri­nal

that's life (Australia) - - Contents -

The pack­ing com­pany I worked in only had 15 em­ploy­ees and we’d all been there years. It meant we were more like fam­ily.

We es­pe­cially bonded when the busi­ness took a bit of a down­turn and was sold.

‘I’m the new owner,’ a red-faced man with a round belly boomed one day. ‘And my son Matt will be your su­per­vi­sor.’

‘Matt hasn’t even got ex­pe­ri­ence,’ I hissed to my best friend, Leah.

We soon dis­cov­ered that wasn’t the worst of it.

He was mean spir­ited, often be­lit­tling team mem­bers in front of ev­ery­one. And his dad was a real sk­in­flint.

One morn­ing, Leah and I were fin­ish­ing up our orders and there were a few foam beads on our desk and floor around our feet.

It was a ware­house, af­ter all.

‘What a to­tal pigsty! You and you!’ Matt said, jab­bing his fin­ger at us. ‘What the hell are you do­ing? Are you a bit stupid? Hel­looo?!’

Too em­bar­rassed to say any­thing, I quickly ti­died up the beads, as Matt’s eyes bore down on me.

An­other time, he tapped the side of his head like he couldn’t be­lieve how dumb we were.

Then, he’d saunter off to the staff room where he would make end­less cups of cof­fee in his spe­cial mug and sneer at us through the win­dow.

What could we do though? I won­dered.

Jobs were hard to find. Plus, I loved my col­leagues.

A few weeks af­ter they’d taken over, a new rule was in­tro­duced.

Now, each em­ployee had to clean the staff room, in­clud­ing the toi­lets, uri­nals and basins, to save money for the com­pany.

We all had to Matt, of course.

‘He spends most of the time in the staff room,’ I moaned to Leah.

One day, Matt si­dled up and barked at me to clean the bath­rooms.

‘It was my turn last week, Matt,’ I stam­mered.

‘It was my turn last week, Maaaatt,’ he mim­icked me. ‘Well, it’s your turn again. Lucky you!’

And he walked off out to the car park.

Fu­ri­ously scrub­bing the uri­nals, I imag­ined it was his face I was scrub­bing with the rough sponge.

By the time I’d fin­ished, the basins and tap­ware shone and the toi­lets were spot­less.

Next, I went into the staff room. Pick­ing up Matt’s spe­cial mug, I scoffed.

#1 Boss, it said on the side. Sud­denly, I got an idea. Us­ing the very same sponge I’d just cleaned the uri­nals with, I gave the mug an ex­tra good scrub!

Af­ter­wards, I set it back on the shelf to air dry, grin­ning.

Mon­day morn­ing came around and it took ev­ery­thing I had not to laugh my head off as Matt saun­tered up to my desk sip­ping from his spe­cial mug.

‘You did a de­cent job,’ he said.

Oh, I did that – a de­cent job of get­ting my own back!

Now each em­ployee had to clean the staff room and toi­lets

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