Quarter Ninja

  I've never been someone who depends, relies or expects any assistance from anyone who isn't named Douglas Mahn - until recently.

  You see, time is relative.
One man looks at a clock and sees hands ticking off a lunch break.
Another man looks at a clock and sees a decorative piece on a mantle.
And, yet, another man looks at a clock and sees a waste of batteries - and wonders if they're the same size as the ones in his dead TV remote, but he's too lazy to reach over and find out.

It's a discount couch.

  Me? I see time as progression.
Lost time mean lost progress. A man who can't run should still walk. You get nothing done by standing around and holding your sides and spitting onto the sidewalk.

  If you stood at the Equator and faced North you would get nowhere.
If you took one step forward, do you know where you are? One step closer to the North Pole (geophysical, not magnetic [though, actually correct on both. Don't start!]).

  Time means different things to different people.
A person who is stuck in a 9 to 5 job knows they are stuck in that building - in that cubicle - for 8 to 10 hours a day. If they get their job done; good! If not; let the next shift take it.
This is particularly obvious when it comes to unions (you know what I'm talking about).

  In the driving world, however, we don't have a "next shift". WE are the shift.
We show up. We drive. We deliver. We go home.
There is no "someone else will take care of it" (unless we run out of legal hours and have to be rescued).

  When a clock based person runs into a performance  based person... that's when things get heated. And, that's where things break down in this world.

  The clock person doesn't care how long it takes to get stuff done. He's stuck there until X o'clock. The performance person does. The faster he gets stuff done, the faster he goes home.

  This is where my story comes in. Sorry for the long intro, but I needed to add some context.
I'm a performance person. If I can find some way to cut 5 seconds off of a task I get to go home 5 seconds earlier. If it costs me 5 seconds then that is how many seconds longer it will take me to get home.

  In my many years as a performance person I have honed my skills in manipulating the clock people to conform to my way of life.

  However, there are times when the fates are against you and no matter how pre-emptive you are, you just have to take matters into your own hands.

  This is where my ninjitsu comes in handy.
My Mom was half-ninja. That makes me a quarter ninja, and the traditions passed down to me.

I really need a Wacom tablet.

  I am a legend, as I've said before. But, not only in the automotive repair world.
I'm also a well known 'entrance artist' - that no one has ever heard of... So, I guess I'm not... well... known.

  Either way; handicapped or not, I can (usually) get myself into [and out of] any facility I have ever come across. I get my job done. And I'm gone (all with no malice intended) with no required assistance from people who have no desire to get me out of there - because it doesn't affect them.

  My most famous, you ask?
Christmas Eve, 2010.

  I had a regular, dedicated run to a place I will call "ZLB" (to hide the innocent).
They were "supposed" to be working until 10PM that night before closing. I had calculated that I would get there well before 7PM.
However, roads and weather, as you can imagine, that night were not agreeable and I ended up an hour behind schedule.

  I get there and - nothing.
The building is black. The parking lot is empty. AND my trailer (it was a drop and hook) was still locked to the dock.
  Any normal citizen would give up and camp out through Christmas and New Years because they are chumps.
NOT ME!

  I did my thing; Got inside. Unlocked my trailer. Printed out my paperwork (how forgetful clock people can be when it's time for THEM to go home) and went about my way.

 

  First day back to work, after the holidays, I was asked by the shipping guy how I was able to get my trailer unlocked from the building (since he "suddenly remembered" that he forgot to do so).
I told him, naturally, that, "I climbed in through the A/C vents." and I pointed up toward said vents.
"Man! I saw some stuff up there you wouldn't believe!", I continued.

  Little did I know, the boss-man was standing nearby and heard the entire conversation.

See; Dan and I knew it was a joke. El Hefe*, on the other hand, didn't.

  The following day I showed up to find the local A/C repair company vans out in the parking lot.
They were checking the system to see if I had caused any damage...


  So, how did I really  get in?

  After 7 years, I knew that the side door doesn't lock if you don't pull it, really hard, into the closed position - which no one does.

  Also, there's no alarm.


*That means "the boss"