poeticdesires

Orlová the life and musings of a kinky slut

Location, Location, Location

http://thehistoryhacker.com/2014/03/17/my-your-history-buddy/ I work for about half a dozen different companies. However, there is one in particular I work for the most. They pay be more per hour and offer me more total hours than any of my other companies (score!).

Still, there is one rather large downside to this particular arrangement: the location of the company’s warehouse.

I function in multiple different capacities for this company: general production had, crew lead, occasional shop worker, and truck driver.

On Wednesday night, as I drove the truck back to the shop, along with two other female coworkers in the cab, we all noticed something odd as I pulled into the lot: a man in his car, dome light on, alone and shirtless.

Apparently I was the lucky one of our trio. Being that I was concentrating on driving, I did not notice the man was indeed completely naked and jerking off in his car…in front of our warehouse…with no one else in sight.

One of my coworkers yelped and started laughing. I can’t remember what the other did. I kept driving the truck, past our warehouse entrance, further up the parking lot. I turned sideways, able to glimpse the man about one hundred feet away. Thankfully he quickly drove off.

Both of my coworkers found the incident funny. I would have too, except a dark thought came over me.

There have been times when I’ve been alone at the warehouse, returning the truck, no one else with me. There were times when not only did I return the gear, I also offloaded the cases by myself. This has not happened in quite some time, but it bothered me all the same.

This most recent happening is not the first incident to occur in the industrial complex we house. Twice I’ve seen men in their cars, enjoying the services of a prostitute.

Once I happened to drive past an SUV, my lights washing the vehicle, and a lady’s headed pop up from the distraction. For some reason, I distinctly remember there being a handicapped tag on the rear view mirror.

During the other sighting, I drove by and saw a man standing by the back driver-side door. It seemed like his pants were down. As I kept going, it finally clicked what he was doing.

Amorous dealings aside, other not-so-amusing activities have also peppered the area. Drag racing down a long stretch of road leading up to and past our building. Multiple car fires, the exact number of which I’m not quite sure.

And then there was this morning.

Today I woke up at 7am to make it to the warehouse by 8:30am to pick up the truck for our gig. As I pulled into a 7-11 near the warehouse, hoping to grab breakfast before work, three cop cars sat in the parking lot, one specifically blocking a vehicle entrance. I popped a U-turned and instead got food from a small Mom&Pop eatery.

When I parked at the warehouse, I popped my trunk and put on my work shoes. As I sat, tying my laces, I heard a vehicle pass by, blaring Latin music. I didn’t think much of this, except it kept playing rather loudly. The person had not turned their car off.

One of the company trucks blocked my view of the vehicle, so I walked past the truck and into the line of sight. I saw a man’s back. He stood near a bush. I did not see his actual anatomy, but understood he was relieving himself about seventy-five feet away.

I turned and walked towards the office door. As I entered, a second vehicle passed by. This was turning out to be a busy morning.

Inside I grabbed my truck keys, the pertinent paperwork for today’s event, and departed.

As I walked towards my truck, parked all the way at the end of the lot, I saw that there were now about three or four men standing around. I kept my head down, and gave myself about twenty feet of cushion between myself and the small crowd.

When I passed them, no one followed. No one said anything to me, in fact. I opened my truck, got inside, locked the door, and drove off.

I’m not sure what to make of the situation. I love this job, and do not plan on leaving anytime soon. And seeing as they comprise about 60% of my income, I make far too much money to not work for them.

Still, it would be nice to not show up to the warehouse wondering what new story I will have to impart about my job.


Categorised as: Fear | Funny | Random | Work

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