Never been spit on, but I’ve taken full arm slaps and smiled and walked away.
Raised my son to do the same.
BillyGoatGruff;
Good afternoon, almost evening to you my cyber friend, I hope the coals are glowing brightly in the woodstove at your place too and you're all warm, well and dry.
This might be an excerpt out of the book some folks have been asking me to write, or perhaps it'll be my first audio story on YouTube for kingston?
It went all went down something like this.
At that time in the life of the author I was the Safety, QA and HR manager at a cabinet production facility of about 50 or so employees.
When the owners had bestowed first one, then another and finally all three auspicious titles upon me, they asked what I wanted put on the business card? When I replied "Plant Septic Funnel" would be most appropriate they didn't think it was as witty as I did apparently.
Anyways we had a colorful crew in all ways and folks being folks will sometimes drink on the job.
We had this one smaller lady who we could not catch drinking and since we didn't have a breathalyzer couldn't legally say she was drunk, but we were able to say she was "unsafe to perform her task", which we did and then the second time we wrote her up.
The third time she was wobbling around on the shop floor, the Production Mgr brings her into my tiny office which was up a set of steep, narrow stairs on the plant mezzanine.
They are sitting beside the door - yah the whole layout is wrong, wrong, wrong if things go sideways - and she's beside the open door, him beside her.
As I begin to go through the words which legally need to be spoken in times of firing for cause, I note that she's beginning to tense up and the smirk she had on her face for the beginning of the meeting has vanished. The Production Manager however has checked out of the meeting, perhaps other work issues are on his mind?
That I can't say for sure, but I can say he didn't see the roundhouse punch she delivered that caught him full in the face! Aaaaand it was on!!
She became rather like a female, drunk and extremely profane version of the little weasel that used to chase Foghorn Leghorn. Oh, and she began to spit too Billy, quite a bit now that I recall.
I wore safety bifocals back then so at least she couldn't get my eyes, which I recall seemed to infuriate her further, but by this time the other fellow and I had bodily picked her up, made it down the stairs, across to the shipping door and threw her out into the parking lot.
At that point she began to throw things at her coworker's cars, keying one of them and I was on the phone to the local constabulary as it had become a legal matter for them at that point.
She then staggered up to a fairly busy street and was throwing some of her lunch kit contents, a thermos and some other bits at passing cars - which prompted a second call to the RCMP, who then decided that indeed she needed to be taken off that street before there was a fatality.
In no time at all a young and rather large example of an RCMP constable appeared in a Yukon sort of cruiser, got out and although I couldn't hear the conversation entirely, it was clear that she wasn't done imitating an angry llama.
Well, here's a hot tip folks and fellows who might deal with the constabulary, they - or for sure and certain he - didn't think much of being spit on either.
Quicker than I can type it out Billy, there appeared as if by magic a light pillow case sort of bag which was put on her head. Just as quickly, if not more so, she was in cuffs and here's the icing on the cake, this fellow picked her up and "placed" her into the back of the Yukon with such enthusiasm that it rocked quite vigorously when she hit the street side door....
That was the last I saw of her Billy, so I can only speculate that in the fullness of time she saw the error of her ways, turned herself around and became a productive member of society... or maybe not, I don't know.
Thanks for reading this far into my "I don't like to be spit on" story.
All the very best in the New Year to you all.
Dwayne