Whoa! Didja get the numbers off that truck?!?


October 10, 2002 - 6:50 p.m.

Strike One

So as I'm driving into the dealership yesterday morning I notice a lot of people out front waving signs and picketing. The mechanics were all lined up out on the lawn with signs, lawnchairs, a gas grill, a 15 foot high inflatable rat and a tent canopy.

How cozy.

Apparently you don't have to be a union member to go on strike. They're union wannabes.

(And at this point I would like to make a personal note to BillF: please spare us the inevitable guestbook explanation on union tactics and strikes. If you do so, I'll delete it. I'm telling the story here.)

One of the union rabble rousers (not an employee) was on a bullhorn calling out the owner of the store, imploring him to come out and bargain in good faith and accept the fact that his mechanics want to organize. The owner at that time was hiding at home probably planning his course of action.

Normally he drives in his demo, parks in the spot closest to the door (a customer parking space or a handicapped space depending on his mood), and strolls in the door. Yesterday a porter went to his house to pick him up in a minivan and he snuck in the back door. He even cut through the business office so the strikers out front wouldn't see him walking through the showroom. He went into his office and closed the door.

Master of his domain! Such leadership qualities!

The strikers stole a shopping cart from the grocery store across the street and brought back vittles for the grill. We saw them firing it up about noon, but alas they forgot to invite the sales staff. They spent the majority of the day marching back and forth with their signs, and eliciting honks from the horns of the union sympathizers driving by on the street.

That's how most of the day went. There were periodic outbursts from the chucklehead on the bullhorn and lots of horn honks from passers-by on the street.

And no customers.

The ones that showed up were bullied off the lot by the guy with the bullhorn. The customers would look to me with a puzzled look on their face. I would shrug and refer to them as the welcoming committee.

We'll see how strong and proud they are on Friday when they can't cross the picket line to get their paychecks.







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