What Came First – The Wino or the Job?


Many responded in different ways to the battering ram wearing on the hinges of the front double doors. Some started dumping mounds of paper into gigantic paper shredders. Others started to click away furiously on computer keyboards. With every keystroke evidence slipped away like sand. One woman started crying. I looked through the frosted window into the corner office and saw a 5,000 dollar briefcase tossed up into the air. Paper rained down like confetti. I, on the other hand, froze. I alternated between blinking away the glaze in my eyes and trying to mentally prepare for what was coming through the door. After the barricade gave, FBI agents dressed in riot gear stepped over broken shards of wood. Their hand guns pointed in our direction. I quickly followed the command to get on the ground. They did not spare my cheek from scraping up against a broken coffee mug as they secured my hands. They pressed their knees into my back…

I had this same nightmare repeatedly when I used to work for an unethical company. Come to think of it, the company was beyond unethical. My former employers took part in so many things that were borderline ILLEGAL. Back then, I had so much anxiety over being associated with Unethical Company that I drank four times a day. I showed up to work intoxicated. Many turned a blind eye to my 8 in the morning inebriated condition.

I just found out that Unethical Company is no more. I have such mixed emotions about seeing the demise of Unethical Company. I’m not running a victory lap with my fisted arms in a tight V shape yelling KAZA KAZA like I thought I would. Instead, I wonder. What came first – the wino or the slave? Did wine tie me to that job for three years, or did Unethical Company inextricably tie me to wine?

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