The Oblivious Martyr.

The company I work for is one of the richest in all of North America.
It pays their employee's minimum wage, snakes out of paying our health benefits when we need them most and doesn't even turn on the air conditioner for the night crew in the midst of a blistering summer heat.
They are the epitome of thee "Corporate America" and it wouldn't surprise me one bit, if that fat sac of shit, Mr. Moore made a surprisingly obvious documentary about them in the near future.

Exisiting in these conditions, one would expect to work with the lower rings of life.
Most of my fellow associates are brilliant people, working a dead end job because there's nothing left for them to work. Myself and one other man have college diplomas. Others are parents, struggling to put food in their children's bellies and clothes on their backs, but with our ridiculously low paychecks, they can't even afford to shop where they work.
I thought I was wrong about my expectations of working amoungst gritty old men with tooth picks hanging out of their stubbly faces, until I overheard this conversation last eve.

"So the wife is worried about me leaving for that other job."
"Oh yeah, why's that Larry?"
"Well. Her ex is in prison now and even though he'll be locked in their for the next twenty years, she's worried he might get parole."
"Shit eh?"
"He was mighty pissed when he heard about the baby."

Of course, my inability to keep my mouth shut kicked in and I belched out:

"Why would he be mad about a baby?"

Perhaps I should reverse my comments posted earlier about men thinking before they speak and women thinking before they act. I either had a man moment or enjoy hearing all about morally bankrupt lifestyles.

"Well, the wife had a baby so her husband would leave her."
"WHAT?"
"Oh yeah, the damn bastard didn't want kids, so she pumped out a baby so he would stop beating her up."

At that point in time, I was very fortunate that I was not climbing a ladder, as I would have fallen right off to my impending doom.

"You mean to tell me that your wife brought something into this world to makeup for her stupendously bad lack of judgement in regards to the opposite sex?"
"Hey, you do what you gotta do."
"That poor child."
"There's nothing wrong with her."
"Your wife is a cunt."

Ah. Je suis tres stupide. Anna, apprendre à garder votre bouche a fermé.

For the rest of the evening my co-workers were silent.
Perhaps I am too opinionated, or perhaps I should really just keep my mouth closed, but after hearing something of that sort, how can you? I mean really.

What the fuck is that?