Entitlement

     

It absolutely amazes me the level of entitlement some people have today.

On Tuesdays we meet our USA broker's truck at an air conditioner/dehumidifier factory in the SouthEast end of Ottawa. Their semi will be backed into the loading dock. There is a very tight spot where we can just back our car or truck around their semi between it and a big garbage bin protected by steel bollards, and up to a set of steps leading to a man door close to the loading dock. We unload our vehicle and carry the totes of parts shipments and individual boxes and crates up the stairs and into the trailer. The broker has our return totes from our last run on board and we grab them and get out of there. We do it all as quickly as possible and get out of their way, ASAP. It is totally a favour to us on the part of the broker and 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 the A/C factory and we for sure appreciate it and don't abuse it. It is get there, get everything unloaded, grab our return totes, and scram. Between the cooperation of the two of them they save us 3 hours driving and all the associated expenses each run and we truly and greatly appreciate it.

The busy factory has trucks coming and going steady and only has one operable loading dock. The yard is very cramped for a semi. They have to back all the way in from the road in a winding drive around the factory and then make a super-tight 90 degree turn up to the dock. They need every available inch of that yard to make it happen. There is only one spot in the drive where two semis can pass each other. At the time we arrive, of course, our broker's semi is there. But immediately afterward, is FEDEX's semi. If we are late, we have to thread out around the broker's semi on the right at the dock, and then around the FEDEX semi on the left in the yard. Because of that we don't mess around and do our darndest to be on time.

To save some Eastern Ontario customer's time and especially a long drive to our shop, we will agree to meet them at the factory. We expect them to wait out in the front employee's parking lot. The broker and particularly the factory totally come first. Absolutely first. Top priority. That's why we're there. We take their favour to us very seriously and gratefully. The factory owes us absolutely nothing. Zip. It is totally a gratuity on their part to us. And you don't take for granted or abuse something like that.

When we are done with the broker, then we will meet the customer in the front parking lot and deliver their order. That lot is full too, but not scheduled. Having completed that task, we then leave and go about the rest of our business in Ottawa. The urgency is over and we breathe a sigh of relief. Tuesday is a hectic, extremely tightly scheduled day until we are done there.

Yesterday we agreed to meet a customer at the factory. I'll be dead honest and say I don't like the guy one little bit and don't feel behooved to him in the slightest. He is grating, and ungrateful. I only agreed to meet him because we were already meeting someone else. Well, guess what? The other guy had to cancel last minute before we left. Now it was only the ingrate, and I never would have offered to meet him if it was only him. I wouldn't have taken the time because I knew the thanks we would get.

The whole run fell apart. It seemed like everything that morning that could have gone wrong did go wrong. I drove the first hour of the hour and a half drive there in a pretty grim mood. By the time we got to Ottawa, Sharon asked me, "Are you feeling any better now?" I had relaxed a fair bit, but we were still late. We were to be at the factory at 1:30, and we weren't going to make it. The FEDEX truck would almost certainly be there, and the broker's truck would be waiting on us. Not good at all.

At 1:38, with us still a piece away, Sharon's phone rang. It was Debbie, and I tensed up and my teeth gritted and I crushed the steering wheel in my grip. I knew what it would be. The ingrate had called her because we weren't there at 1:30. I knew it. I just knew it. She asked how far behind we were. I growled, "15 minutes". The growl wasn't to her. She said she would tell him. He was only 20 to 25 minutes from home and we were saving him 3 hours of driving, but when we were a few minutes late he called because we were putting him out. My mind was made up already about doing him any more favours.

We made it in 12 minutes. Sure enough, we could see from across the busy last intersection before the industrial park that the loading dock was empty. Our broker had already got loaded and had pulled out. Not good. We drove around to the front of the factory and there was the FEDEX semi backed into the yard. That's worse. The broker's semi was parked behind it and I could see the van doors still pinned open waiting for us. That's worse still. We're holding up two semis and tying up the loading dock's schedule. This is just the worst ever.

Driving up to the back of the broker's trailer we jumped out and started unloading our truck. We had our Cargomax trailer with us, making things even more cramped. It was going to be really tight getting back out of there. Just a bad situation all around.

Guess what? Sure enough, in that cramped for space, cramped for time jam, around the broker's semi walks the ingrate. He couldn't wait for us to deal with who we were actually there for. He expected us to serve him first! There are two tractor trailers waiting on us in a jampacked factory yard, and he expects us to give him priority!

He started to say something to me and I snarled at him to stand back while we loaded the trailer. Our broker driver was out front talking to the FEDEX driver about how all we were going to manage two tractor trailers and an extended cab pickup with a trailer in that yard. Probably apologizing to him too. Once again he tried to interrupt me and the urge to take the whole day out on him rose up through my entire being. Around him and in spite of him we got the trailer loaded. Our driver brought our return totes to our truck and put them in the back seat for Sharon. He was noticeably irked at this clown stuck in all of our way.

We handed the ingrate his parts, and, of course, he hadn't brought the exact amount to pay for them! There was 4 dollars and 13 cents change. And he expected it. Unbelievable. Anyone else without a doubt would have told us to keep the change and thanked us and got out of the way. Scratch that. No, they would have waited their turn out in the front lot. Not him. No, we had to scramble to find his change. Two tractor trailers and a 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 waiting on us and we had to come up with 4 dollars and 13 cents change. We saved him 3 hours driving, likely close to a hundred dollars gas, at least a couple of days delivery time over mailing, and he expected change. He bought less than 400 dollars of parts, but he was tying up two tractor trailers with probably well over a hundred thousand dollars of merchandise! Maybe more. Then he wanted to know if he could return any part if it was wrong. So I don't know what I'm doing either. Of course. Why not? He had one of the most straightforward tractors I deal with, so an insult to my expertise on top of it. Just diarrhea icing on the crap cake of dealing with him. Moreover, he didn't even have the decency to say, "Thank you". No, for all we saved him and all the nuisance he was causing all of us in that tight space, he never once even said, "Thanks".

We were all so behind I closed and latched the one van door while our driver closed the other one. The ingrate was so close to me I had to tell him to step back so I could swing the door around! We didn't even have time for me to apologize to our driver. The best apology I could make was to get the heck out of there so everyone could get on with their day. Except this guy. Oh no. Not him. He had more questions which I had to ignore while I went to jump in our truck. Sharon was already in, having had to scrounge around in the console and her purse for his change. He actually followed me back up to our truck again! Can't you see what's going on?! I told him to get out of the way while I turned our truck and trailer to get out of the way so the FEDEX rig could finally back in. Because the broker's semi was pulled into the straightest part of the drive, there was the space where they make their right angle turn to the dock available to us. I figured that might be a radius we could U-turn our truck and trailer in. Or darn close. A three point turn, probably, then thread past the FEDEX truck and get out of their way once and for all. I made the turn in one fast shot, taking every available inch of the lot, with Sharon's hair standing on end and her one hand on the dash and the other gripping the console, and there he was, trying to stop us again to bother me with something else! Good grief, the FEDEX truck needs to get to the dock! This is a busy 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 running on an extremely tight 'just in time' schedule! Can't you friggin' 𝑠𝑒𝑒 that?!

Our driver had already threaded past the FEDEX semi. He was actually already gone out of the yard and givin' 'er he was so far behind. He must have ran to his cab and was already been moving by the time I was turning our outfit. Now the ingrate thought he could be a traffic cop and was waving me through while he was standing in the way of me doing so!

Holy flyin' flip... Once I get to saying that you better hope I'm not holding anything in my hands harder or sharper than a loaf of wet bread.

In a teeth grinding snarl with my hands in two fists around the steering wheel I drove past him and between him and the FEDEX semi. I looked in the mirror and he had his hand up expecting me to stop and put up with more from him now that I was in front of the FEDEX rig and it was already rapidly backing towards the loading bay. No way Jose. I've had enough of you for one day. Make that for a friggin' lifetime. We turned onto the Industrial Park road, and Sharon said, "𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑖𝑡. 𝑁𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛!" No kidding. I don't even want him at the shop. We bandied about the idea of having Debbie block his phone number. That's not off the table yet.

Anyone else would have patiently waited out in the front parking lot for us to take care of our top priority business and then attend to them after. Not that guy. He made one absolutely massive nuisance of himself and never gave a thought to all the inconvenience he was adding to practically everyone there. We were ashamed of ourselves for being so late and messing things up so bad for the drivers and the loading dock personnel, but it none of it meant a thing to that guy. No, we were apparently all inconveniencing ℎ𝑖𝑚.

As we so gratefully drove away from what I called, "That ungrateful cuss... " through my teeth, we marveled at the level of entitlement and ingratitude and just downright 𝑛𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 we had just experienced. That guy undeniably took the cake. Beyond the shadow of a doubt. An ingrate and a 𝑝𝑒𝑠𝑡 on top of it. Totally willing to tie up us, two tractor trailers and a factory for his own convenience. I truly hope he is one of a kind.

Sharon said to me, "There again is proof that age doesn't begat wisdom or grace". Or something like that. I have this thing. This unrealistic expectation that keeps getting its balloon burst as I grow older. I grew up totally expecting that all people older than me were wiser than me and deserved Respect. This guy was easily ten years older than me, and I have no qualms whatsoever about saying I don't respect him one little bit. I have my doubts he is any wiser. Don't ask me why. That might just get me going.

You can't do enough for some people. You just absolutely positively can't. Their sense of entitlement knows no bounds.