I had intended on walking to the gas station to get something to drink and eat - but was met by a traffic jam. At 11pm. All because the union containing the drivers of the trucks that deliver fuel are threatening to go on strike.
Nobody could drive into town this evening because of the traffic jam to get into the gas station to panic buy fuel. Angry people were beeping their horns, and leaning out of windows swearing at each other.
We have been oblivious to it. Our car sits on the drive, perhaps quarter full. We are planning on travelling to Cornwall next Thursday night to spend easter with my parents. If the strike happens, and endures, I will be thanking whichever union is responsible for preventing my children from seeing the grandparents they have not seen for months.
I’m going to come straight out and say it. I really hate unions. I understand the reason for their existence, but I object to every single direct action they undertake. Their sense of entitlement has always baffled me, and always will.
Perhaps it has something to do with being taught that if you work hard, or the company you work for is doing well, you get paid for it. Some people seem to think payment is a right, regardless of what’s happening in the rest of the world.
Asshats.
(p.s. “asshat” is my word of the week)