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A Weblog by David Scully


I Worked For

The Ayatollah !

And His Girly-Man

Lieutenant !

May 20, 2004 (Thursday)

He was old. And he was mean. He appeared near death. And he wanted the rest of us to join in his misery. His name was George Hoopes, and he was our supervisor at the Sacramento County Assessor's Office, on the watch of Wally Engel, Roger Fong and Pete Louie. It was 1979, and our American countrymen were still imprisoned at the American Embassy in Iran, under the Ayatollah Khomeini. And so, too, were we, probationary Real Property Appraiser I's, imprisoned under a ruler no less nasty, mean, and brutish (and short, too). I came to call him The George-Atollah Hoopes-ameini. Once a week or so he would shuffle in from his desk, which was located right outside the open doorway from our workspace, and stand in front of us and sneer, and breathe loudly, like a tired old, nasty junkyard dog. I remember the first time we met him. We new hires had been training together for about a month or two before we were assigned to work in a small rented space in a strip mall in Carmichael, Ca. I had already been putting up with the boorish hostility of the Saddam Hussein look-alike and act-alike, Ron Hammer, and I coped by joking with the group and making everyone laugh. The morning we met the George-Atollah, I had calculated the mileage from my home in Davis to work in Carmichael and had challenged my co-workers to see who could guess the closest. This poor group must have had rather sad and empty lives, because they always perked up like bored kids on a long road trip, whenever I lightened things up with a little diversion or entertainment. With eagerness and excitement they offered their estimates. The George-Atollah heard the excitement and shuffled in and sneered. "What's going on ?" I tried to include this modern-day Scrooge in on the fun and challenged him to guess. My wits were about me that morning and, when he proffered his best guess, I exclaimed with surprise and excitement, "Exactly Right !" My co-workers roared with approving laughter at this quick-witted gesture of respect to our commander. We were all military, and I was paying respect and homage to that time-honored tradition that the commander is always right. It was light-hearted camaraderie, and I was displaying a little affectionate respect, recognizing his position as boss. Everybody got it. The laugh they gave was a release of tension - an ice-breaking laugh. Everybody got it - except, that is, the George-Atollah. He sneered, and said he knew when he was being made fun of, and I knew it was going to be a long, long year.

Girly-Man Gus More

Well, no need to beat that George-Atollah horse to death, because he probably is already. Under the George-Atollah, and also supervising us, was Girly-Man Gus More. Girly-Man Gus was kind of like a very very effeminate John Kerry. He truly, truly had girly-man arms. His biceps were thinner than my wrists. 60 % Felix Unger of "The Odd Couple" 05 % Mike Brady of "The Brady Bunch", 05 % John Kerry, and 13 % Chadsborne Osworth Jr. III of "Dobie Gillis", Girly-Man Gus didn't quite add up to a full man. He always addressed us as "fellows" - not "fellas", or "guys", or "men", but "fellows". Real Men don't say "fellows". The Saddam Hussein look-alike and act-alike, Ron Hammer, was always quick to look up the dirt on someone and make a deriding comment, but professional courtesy demands that I credit him for accuracy for the following comment. After scouring the public records for dirt on all his co-workers, the Saddam Hussein look-alike and act-alike, Ron Hammer, discovered that title to the Girly-Man Gus More residence was in Girly-Man Gus's wife's name. "Gus More is a kept man", Saddam Ron Hammer announced to us one sleepy morning. One of us raised an eyebrow, one of us turned a momentary ear, one of us grunted, one of us burped, and we returned to drawing houses on graph paper. Gussie was a little bitch and (s)he gave me one of those stares of hate that fags do, one morning when I volunteered her to come in early every day the following week. Well, it was her turn. Girly-Man Gus was used to his priviliges, that went beyond three- or four- hour lunch brakes and never coming in early. The George-Atollah told us that it was common knowledge that Girly-Man had painted his house on work-time one summer. Such was the lack of accountability at the Sacramento County Assessor's Office under Wally Engel, Roger Fong, and Pete Louie. The most manly thing I ever saw Girly-Man Gus More do was when he showed up one day at one of our two-hour lunch breaks at the donut shop. Gussy actually ate three whole pastries right in a row to prove he wasn't a sissy. Wow, was I impressed ? Actually, that WAS kind of special, because it was one of the few times we ever saw Girly-Man Gus. When I ran my first marathon in 1980, the route passed Gussie's wife's house in Land Park. Gussie was out there watching, and he let me know the next Monday how stupid I looked with that scarf on my head. Well, mr. fastidious dresser, it was there to block the sun, and it was wet to keep me cool. Oh, by the way, congratulations, Dave, on running a marathon. Oh, thanks, Girly-man ! Girly-man Gus More dressed nicely and was discreet. For example, He was very careful about saying anything racist or derogatory about blacks or other races. When he complained about the blacks from Oak Park and Sac City College intruding into his neighborhood, he was careful to look around and make sure only white males were present. Apparently, Gussie is afraid of blacks and felt intimidated by them and wanted to share that with us. Then there was the time a clown from the adjacent room (Ron Burns) brought in a porno magazine with a doctored centerfold photo of a black man with an extremely long penis, about 3 feet long. "Show it to Scully, show it to Scully," Gus More snickered. Whatever...I'd seen porn before. It's all around us. I recount the incident to describe the very unprofessional behavior by workers and supervisors there, and their very patronizing attitude toward me. One final thing before I move on to talk about more interesting people. Much of our job as property appraisers consisted of measuring houses and then sketching them on graph paper when we returned to the office. We included the sketch when we finished calculating the appraisal and submitted the appraisal for that house. One day the George-Atollah came into our room huffing and puffing and loudly scolded me, showing me a half-done sketch I had done that had been sent downtown with the finished appraisals. By this time, I knew that the George-Atollah was a tyrant, and the only way to handle him was to scold him back, which is what I did, and he left with his tail between his legs. I told him that Gussie and he were supposed to look at all our work before it went downtown. But, frankly, I was puzzled and felt bad about it. My garbage can was often full of half-done sketches that I just started over on a fresh sheet. But I had never before submitted such an incomplete piece of work as the one the George-Atollah showed me. Only much later did it occur to me that, indeed, it was Girly-Man Gus who checked my work. Did Girly-Man Gus More, in fact, intentionally submit the half-completed sketch? Who knows ? But I wouldn't be surprised. Well, I could continue in this vein, but I'm such a nice person that I'll move on to other topics. It has been necessary to tell this story so we can understand further developments. You see, Sacramento's a small town, and Sacramento County personnel even smaller. So it is important to understand these small-town bosses that people were calling to get references on me. Good Lord !
Posted by dscully at 07:77 PM Top of Page

David Scully




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