Watching Superman, huh? Yeah, I do that sometimes. Not like, every week, but now and then.
It kinda reminds me of this one job I had, a real dead-end gig, you know? Not because of the work itself, but the whole atmosphere and, well, the boss.
That Warehouse Gig
This was years ago, I was working at this pretty run-down, dusty old warehouse. My boss, let’s call him Mr. Fitzwilliam, he was something else. Always grumpy, always finding something new to complain about. The place itself was, frankly, falling apart. We’re talking leaky roof in multiple spots, dodgy electrics flickering all the time, the whole nine yards. It was a character-building experience, let’s put it that way.
So, one particularly grim afternoon, it was absolutely hammering down with rain outside, like, a proper deluge, cats and dogs. And wouldn’t you know it, a massive section of the roof decided to just give up, right over the main office computer. And this wasn’t just any computer; it was the only computer we used for the entire inventory system. Yeah, ideal.
Mr. Fitzwilliam, he started having a complete meltdown. I mean, a proper screaming fit. “The records! The records are getting soaked! Do something!” he was yelling. And there I am, just a young guy, looking at this absolute mess unfolding. What am I supposed to do? I ain’t Superman, right? Can’t just fly up there and magically patch the roof in a second, or shield the computer with my super-cape.
But someone had to do something. So, I remembered we had these big plastic tarps for covering stock. I grabbed a bunch of those, and me and this other fella who worked there, Kevin, we scrambled up on some incredibly wobbly ladders. Here’s what we did:
- We hauled the tarps up as best we could.
- Tried to drape them over the worst of the leak, with water still pouring in.
- All while Mr. Fitzwilliam was down below, yelling instructions that made absolutely no sense and mostly just added to the chaos.
It honestly felt like we were in some low-budget disaster movie, not just a regular Tuesday afternoon at a crummy warehouse. We eventually managed to get the area sort of covered. The computer was definitely damp, maybe salvageable, maybe not. Mr. Fitzwilliam just grumbled about how long it took us, of course. No ‘thank you’ or anything.
The Superman Moment After
Later that evening, I finally got home. I was soaked to the bone, freezing, and just utterly tired. I plopped down on my old, lumpy couch, feeling completely drained. I started flipping through the TV channels, not really looking for anything in particular.
And what’s on? An old Superman movie. I think it was one of the Christopher Reeve ones. And I just sat there, watching him. So calm, so powerful, effortlessly flying around, saving people, fixing these huge, world-ending problems without breaking a sweat.
And I just started laughing, man. Out loud. The contrast was just too much. There he is, you know, saving Metropolis from some supervillain. And there I was, just a few hours earlier, battling a leaky warehouse roof with a flimsy plastic sheet and a perpetually angry boss. It really did put things in a weird kind of perspective, you know?
Mr. Fitzwilliam, true to form, never even said thanks for us trying to save his precious computer. Just complained the next day about how the floor was still wet. I quit that job not long after that whole fiasco. Decided I needed something where I didn’t feel like I needed actual superpowers just to get through the day, or at least a boss who wasn’t a complete pain in the backside 24/7.
So yeah, watching Superman. Sometimes it makes you wish things were that simple, that problems could be solved that cleanly. Other times, like when I remember that warehouse, it just makes me profoundly appreciate not working for old Mr. Fitzwilliam anymore. Good riddance to that place, honestly. That’s a chapter closed.
