Me, walking to watch… I notice the area ahead is taped off. I’m hoping it’s after the little bend in the hallway so I can cut around instead of having to double back, go downstairs, and then go upstairs, just to get to my shop for some coffee before watch.
Girl: Sorry, secured, you’ll have to go around.
Me: Aw, maaannnnn…. Hey, why do you guys do this [stripping & waxing the floor—like the dirtiest floor ever], like, every week?
Girl: [points at guy]
Guy: uhh, we have to.
Me: But, why?
Guy: it’s just our orders… this is the first time we’ve done it this week.
Me: this week. But it’s like every week. Why?
Guy: I dunno, it’s our chief.
Me: well, what’s his deal?
Guy: He’s a chief, I’m a third class… I dunno. He likes to see his face in the floor.
Me: Well, he knows it’s pointless, right?
Guy: …
Me: I mean, it doesn’t even matter…
Guy: …
Me: [leaves, cursing, muttering why?]
I think my beef is this: they are the only people who do it that often. It always ruins my effin’ night. And they don’t do it on the other side… you know why? Because they have this lovely rubber matting put down, and that keeps the floor from getting dirty. It’s brilliant. Now why can’t they do that on MY side??
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