The so-called orientation started with bullshits such as safety, pay-roll, breaks and all stupid nonsense that in Slavery-Capitalism society have been given to cheap labourers to make them feel important and valued! The so-called conference room, where the future slaves were being oriented, was so damn cold because the asshole had used paper-thin walls for the damn building! You could hear someone outside coughing, not to mention the damn trucks going up and down the parking lot. Then the so-called meal break came up. Since the cheap-labourer slaves start their slavery at 06:00, their lunch time would be at 10:00 and they get half an over free(!) from their slave-master to eat their disgusting cheap food which by the way is purchased from the same company at the discount given to them!
After that the assholes in charge took us for a so-called tour in order to demonstrate what is awaiting us on the floor. This, by the way, is one of, perhaps, the three biggest retailers in North America but I don't want to name them since they might come after me for what I write and who is to fight these Capitalist bastards? They eat you alive!
You could see all sorts of losers on the floor from young Caucasians from poor families who had to work hard to make their ends meet (or meat!) or pay for their school, to border jumpers of Latin America, Orientals and of course Africans, who are the all-time favorites of slave-master! Then the story changed all of sudden and we were asked to pair with a slave and work! I was paired, happily, with a young Caucasian fella in his early 20's and asked to do something. Things went fine for the first 15 minutes or so until a nasty piece of shit border-jumper Latino got herself involved. She told me I was doing something incorrectly and I told her that I was not and I knew what right and wrong was in that job and I didn't need her to tell me what to do! She didn't like it and then in a minute she came back with another female, probably from the same stack of the woods. Another slave who was probably didn't even have a meal in a day in her native country and now here in Canada she has been given a title and works like a horse. She transferred the other woman's complain to me and added that I had yelled at her. I said it was not true and indicated that she was the one who had yelled at me. They wanted to argue and I saw where it might be going and that's what I hate the most: Arguing with female Latino border jumpers whom have been given the title of Good Slave by Canadians and work for them like horses. I then took my name tag off and put it on the table and said: I don't need this job! Then I walked to the room, grabbed the slavery package and walked to the so-called lady manager who had originally interviewed and hired me and I said: Here's everything and walked out!
This reminded me of what The Brave told me once and I would like to add it here at the end because that is so true: He said: The slave master used to cross the Atlantic to bring us here. Now we come ourselves. Some people love to be slave and cheap labourere for the life and Canadians like it. For the rest it's normally not an easy life.
(Photo: An old painting shows Africans whom were brought to the US to work on cotton fields. Nowadays are coming from each and every corner of the world by themselves and work other hard jobs)
You could see all sorts of losers on the floor from young Caucasians from poor families who had to work hard to make their ends meet (or meat!) or pay for their school, to border jumpers of Latin America, Orientals and of course Africans, who are the all-time favorites of slave-master! Then the story changed all of sudden and we were asked to pair with a slave and work! I was paired, happily, with a young Caucasian fella in his early 20's and asked to do something. Things went fine for the first 15 minutes or so until a nasty piece of shit border-jumper Latino got herself involved. She told me I was doing something incorrectly and I told her that I was not and I knew what right and wrong was in that job and I didn't need her to tell me what to do! She didn't like it and then in a minute she came back with another female, probably from the same stack of the woods. Another slave who was probably didn't even have a meal in a day in her native country and now here in Canada she has been given a title and works like a horse. She transferred the other woman's complain to me and added that I had yelled at her. I said it was not true and indicated that she was the one who had yelled at me. They wanted to argue and I saw where it might be going and that's what I hate the most: Arguing with female Latino border jumpers whom have been given the title of Good Slave by Canadians and work for them like horses. I then took my name tag off and put it on the table and said: I don't need this job! Then I walked to the room, grabbed the slavery package and walked to the so-called lady manager who had originally interviewed and hired me and I said: Here's everything and walked out!
This reminded me of what The Brave told me once and I would like to add it here at the end because that is so true: He said: The slave master used to cross the Atlantic to bring us here. Now we come ourselves. Some people love to be slave and cheap labourere for the life and Canadians like it. For the rest it's normally not an easy life.
(Photo: An old painting shows Africans whom were brought to the US to work on cotton fields. Nowadays are coming from each and every corner of the world by themselves and work other hard jobs)
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