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www.mylifeisart.com TM

the value of life is measured by its beauty

people reading my book

"loser...."

(c) patrick gysemberg

a thriller, a bestseller even before SOON publication...

loser

 

all described in the next pages is part of a fiction novel and any possible resemblance with an actual and existing situation or real physical persons are merely pure coincidental, non valid and thus not existing.

 Life is often worse than fiction can ever imagine.

patrick gysemberg -----  action painter for a better world

 

Chapter fifty departure of karine poodle head

 

Do you expect me to tell my son that honesty is not that important in real life? Shall I tell him that he should worship deceit and personal gain at all cost?

If I had lived in the US, I would have sued Stardor, or Matrix Systems for a total amount of 500.000 EUROS x 1.3 = 650.000 US Dollars because of breaking my personal career out of total incompetence on managerial level. Nett of course. I would be able to use the system : “no cure, no pay”, which is non existing in Belgium at the moment.

 

How do I get to this amount? I calculate 16 remaining years of work at a salary rate of my last salary, which was 1650 Euros net. Multiplied by 13.98 you have the annual fee. Multiplied by 16, you arrive at about four hundred thousand euros, if you add an annual average bonus of 1000 euros. Because of personal harm and as a compensation for all damage, I would add another 100.000 Euros to compensate all, so I would reach about 500.000 Euros or 650.000 USD. If you go and look for judicial previous convictions, you will find a lot of those, protecting the employee’s final way of living for the rest of his remaining working days. So be glad I worked for Matrix Begium and not Matrix USA. Now I could not even dream of paying for all those judicial costs a possible trial would impose on me. It would set me bankrupt. Straightaway.

The charges, you dare to ask me?

Being fired on illegal motivations.  Due to pestering, malicious behaviour and totally incompetent managerial performance of the new management making all wrong decisions, as a consequence of their total lack of proper and appropriate specialized education for this kind of managerial position.  (remember that Anissa only kew to book certain amounts under certain numbers, without even knowing why she did this….)

(remember the continuous lying to every living soul of mr Moipatron to keep up the appearances of doing a fine job) Complete Lack of control of the USA authorities on these remarks.  Illegal, and deceitful, harmful operations of mr Dujounrot against Matrix Systems. Personal enrichment of management.  Because my personal customer service line of business had been broken in such total incomprehensive way, it was very hard in these economical dubious times to locate an occupation with equal conditions.  At my age. Because I had been forced out of the company by the malicious and personal pestering behaviour of both Anissa and mr Moipatron who grabbed control over matrix Systems, after continuous greed and personal gain from deceitful  and illegal activities which  had brought mr Dujounrot finally on his knees, not to lick up and moister Anissa’s dried up pussy this time, but to flee like a low life pathetic criminal to Italy, together with his brand new Audi A6, his laptop, portable pc, and his Nokia cell phone as a token of sincere appreciation of all those years of fine work for Matrix Systems Belgium... (thank you so very much!!!!)  ,I had no other choice than to ask for what I am entitled to!  Quid???????

May be now you all will understand why I am writing this book. To recuperate a small part of the money I am entitled to. To support my family. That is why I am writing in English too. To reach a worldwide audience with my story, since the disgusting content of this book is universal. A man is deceitful all over the world. Only, I wish it had all been different and I wish I had not been the victim of this totally rude and uncontrolled behaviour of some shallow individuals, still thinking to get away with it…since the internal  investigations are on going….till today.  You cannot run away from the truth. Never. Ever. Start shivering.

I am jumping a few chapters ahead again. Silly me. But, of course, the reader is not silly, nor stupid, and never to be underestimated. So you could have guessed from far that mr Dujounrot would not be able to stay and practice the things he had been pulling off all those years, did you now?

 

Still, I need to include some more chapters on its way to this departure of our big chief and the complications this would evoke on all of us.

Poodle head was still on the loose and around at Matrix Systems. You did not think she would have made it till the end, did you?

 

No way! “Raus!!!!”  She had been such a pain in the ass, just by trying to do what she had to do, her job, actually,  that I cannot spend much more time on this peculiarity of mother nature. Even If technically totally impossible, she had beaten Anissa in stupidity and total  idiocy. Not one single task she had been able to fullfill as had been intended.  The infiltrating grey hair between Veronique’s long black gipsy manes grew frighteningly. Poodle head mostly did the clients of Veronique since I kept her well away from my Germans. Even to let Poolde head go near one German would have been a lethal action, for both parties. So I had her doing some necessary but utmost boring stuff like entering orders, classifying orders and invoices, things she could not handle either. That is why she had to go. Even before the end of this book. No mercy. She had no mercy with us, nor with the grey hairs of Veronique. She needed to be replaced, as soon as possible, since the pressure on customer care grew not even daily. Every next hour, the past few weeks,  the tension and work intensity seemed to have grown on both of us.

“When you preach hatred, you will harvest murder.” Is that really so?

You may harvest death, as well.  Anissa should know. She preaches “hatred” since she had been born. I never thought her to be a happy woman. She had not enough braincells to evokte the sentiments of joy and pleasure. All of her fully active micro fibres of her one and only half brain cell had to be fully occupied with being despitefull and feeling hatred towards about anything she had encountered in life. Until she had met mr Dujounrot and mr Moipatron. The two Frenchman who saved her life. The fact that she had to be an eternal arse leech for those two French conmen was no issue for her.  At least they had gotten her away out of the gutter of poverty and misery.

 

Because of her extra-terrestrial looks and her poodle sitting on her head, we knew mr Dujournot would not mind the departure of Poodle head. At all. I did not want to get rid of her right away.

Why? This was a hard exercise. For all of us. Most of the time the work of Karine had been of tremendously poor quality and urged Veronique and myself to constant reparation time to reset the instant damage done by this bewildered and befuddled woman.

So, in fact, it had no use to keep her going on like this. Veronique had spoken to her several times on her extreme high level of fatal mistakes, without any success whatsoever. At the contrary, this “out- of- this- world” creature with the massive curly hair on top of her, even thought it all had to be part of a larger plan of conspiracy against her. She was delusional.  So she was not a help to any of us really. Only at rare times, on selected occasions, she had some kind of intellectual intentional urges and then she delivered some quality work. These rare times were so much of a relief to both Veronique and I,   that it was apparent as a cupcake to both of us that we needed some kind of permanent quality support on our jobs. Our customers were entitled to this. Not only had the number of clients grown exuberantly, the numbers of orders and for all: the height of each order grew exponentially strong equally.

 

Both Veronique and I knew too that, if we let Karine go, it would be hard to get her prelaced because mr Dujounrot would to everything in his power to stall this money consuming operation.

Mr Dujounrot always did everything to stall every single descision that would implicate a real cost for matrix Systems. May be that is how hecvreated the impression towards the States that he had been an excellent manager all along, one who controls every expenditure to the utmost in favour of the company. In fact, Matrix Systems had one of the lowest operational costs of the bunch resorting under the  huge hat of Stardor Industries. The logic behind this ultimate extreme attitude was simple : the more I can cut on working expenses for Matrix, the more I can use to enhance my personal benefit.

I agree that one of the major taskes of a general manager is cost control. But the manner mr Dujounrot fulfilled this task had been grotesque and often to the immediate disadvantage of those people who really had to do the every day jobs to keep the place running. He enriched himself on the back of his staff.

(Think about his refusal to place sun protective shields against the large office windows, where the sun could harass us all day long against the never protective shields of our personal computers.)

 

But as the balance of Karine kept on pointing towards constant unsufficient working results, we sent her off : bye bye poodle head.

Immediately we informed mr Dujounrot in order to replace her. What we feared, really happened. Reluctant as he was at the beginning to replace her at all (he would rather never have to find a substitute for her at all), he arranged to keep us quiet for a while by, again, arguing about the high dismission cost this had evoked on Matrix Systems. So at least, he would have to wait for some next six months, till those exit payments were taken care off and this file could be closed. The sending off of Poodle head had been necessary but the expenditure, he could not combine with the price tag of hiring an immediate replacement. First, all operating costs of the departure of Poodle head had to be arranged before he could proceed with her substitution.

 

 Both Veronique and I knew this had been an easy excuse of mr Dujounrot to stall the implications of this extra charge, but since he was the general manager anyway, we could not do anthing else than accept this strange way of managing a nearby slumbering crisis situation.

As, after some years working with mr Dujounrot, I knew he would abuse this unilateral option he affected upon us, to work for the next upcoming six months without any alternative, nor back up force,  to his full personal advantage. After those six months without poodle head, he would squabble that we just could do without her perfectly and that we never had needed this logistic support in the first place. He knew that we belonged to the self-regulatory kind of staff who would do anything to prevent anxiety and mischief. We were both elements who took care of their own problems. And that is what mr Dujounrot liked most. Even before a problem even –occurred, it had been taken care of.

For many reasons, this was so unjust to both Veronique and myself.

For the past years, we, at customer care, had to endure many intense changes and defeat severe attacks on several levels. First, we had to arrange and cope with this incredible growth in volume and sales.

As mr Moipatron had acquainted the title of “assistant to the general manager”, he had been aware of our problems at” customer care”, since he had been sitting right next to our working island.

The only advice he gave us, when things went rough gain, at some crisis situation where our customers went crazy, was to directly attack mr Dujounrot on the subject, which of course we had done so. No support whatsoever. Quite understandable, since mr Moipatron had not been able to even  arrange his own volume of work. He kept up the usual appearances by his phenomenal and constant lies, backed up by Anissa, I got so sick of, finally. Mr Moipatron wished himself to be a leader he never ever could have been. He just did not have the right quality nor specicfactions for it.

Nor had he used the right way to obtain this new status he would never be able to fulfil.  Not as an assistant, nor as a full executive officer. The only merit we ever possibly could hold mr Moipatron accountable for, up till now, had been  the maintenance of our IT system internal network, since mr Dujounrot had been too tight-fisted to let a professional company take care of these highly technical safeguarding activities.. . At the contrary: the continuous lying of mr Moipatron imposed an extra burdon upon “customer care”, because we had to deal with all the anxious delayed and furious customers, waiting for their ferociously promised material, never to be arrived. The authenticity and seriousness of these daily mounting complaints was as usual and always abridged  by mr Moipatron. He started to react the same way as mr Dujounrot had done, when confronted with an issue he did not like to hear or being opposed to. “Neglect and ignore.”” Play mute and deaf. “

 

So “customer care” could not really claim to be supported by mr Moipatron, our inside assistant manager on the spot. Furthermore we had it coming from Anissa, the account rapist, who did anything within her limited intellectual powers to obstruct me and my work. The way she harassed our customers about open, not paid invoices, was legendary. Mr Moipatron knew this. He did not do anything, even if I talked to him about a million times about it.

She just printed out the entire list with the unpaid invoices and without even giving them a glance on their correctness of content, she faxed them through to all involved. Minutes later, she diverted all incoming enraged calls about  missing invoices, late payments, and wrong or wrongly booked credit notes to my desk, as if she had nothing to do with this. Not ever. She was too lazy to do anything related to this important task of open payments control. She just diverted all to “customer care”, as if we had to solve it all. So it was. So it had been. The trashcan of Matrix Systems, with compliments of Mr Dujounrot and mr Moipatron. They started to resemble, more and more.

Print and fax, print and fax. That had been the important and sole responsible task of Anissa concerning open payment control. Print and fax. Never look at the content, never adjust possible mistakes beforehand to avoid customer anxiety. Do not think, just act a little as you possibly can and divert all shit to customer care.

 

In a normal company, with normal people, and a truly professional and responsible management, I should have had an intense and perfectly oiled supportive relationship with the account department about these matters. The related workload could have been divided and taken care of in an easy way, by respecting the customer, by understanding the customer, by anticipating in the needs of the customer on his payments program. The way Anissa handled it, however, destroyed any possible chances of cooperation. For her, this had been a straight fight ; the batlle against the customer. She never came to the idea that our customers did pay our little monthly salaries and that they kept me Dujounrot on going with his unlimited expense notes he cashed in each month. By the way : can anyone form Stardor explain to me what the real relationship is between the denial of purchasing the sun protective shields for about 1500 USD against the monthly free and unlimited expense notes of our sales / general manager which exceeded often 5000 USD and more? Is there a logical explanation or are these governmental methods, straight copied out of the middle ages?

The way she sent the reminders to our clients, had been a genuine attack on their credibility and could have been compared with a straight slammer in your face. Not only did I have to investigate all abnormalities on those lists, moreover, I had to comfort and soothe my customers and put them at ease again, over and over again, after another no read reminder of Anissa had hit their desks.

 

Such extremely unprofessional behaviour had been consequently accepted and tolerated by both mr Dujounrot and mr Moipatron. I became desperate. My workload had been on the verge of suffocating me. Support had been a word I could only dream of. Every single element on board of this creepy company had been turned against me.

I could not understand why those two Frenchman gave Anissa that amount of credit on her lousy job she pulled of, every single day at Matrix Systems. Additionally mr Moipatron enhanced the feeling of aggression of our clients against Matrix Systems by his continuous lying. Why? Why this intensity of things happening around me? If he only would have lied once, or may be twice, to keep things calm and easy, I would be able to understand. But all the time?

To any one? This was not happening. Not again…The odds turning against me. I felt exhausted and lonely. I had no one to turn to.

 

And my customers were gnashing their teeth. No matter how hard I tried to offer the best possible service to them, Both Anissa or mr Moipatron would do anything to destroy these efforts. I do believe mr Moipatron had no clue of the actual damage he really evoked by his lies. He was used to lie. It had been part of is existence. It had been part of his personality. He had used this method for years and it always had worked and helped him pull things through very fine, thank you so much!

 

Also Veronique had been severely irritated by these lies but for one reason or another, she kept her anger about it totally under control. This, I had not seen before. It had been strange to watch Veronique discussing this deficiency of mr Moipatron without her getting upset anymore. Something she used to be all the time if one of her costumers was involved in some kind of unjust treatment by others.  Only later, it would all come clear to me. The puzzle would all fall to its places. How dumb could I ever have been?

Indeed, not Anissa but I had been the completely dumb ass around here.

 

Chapter fifty one : Mr Dujounrot in the spotlights

 

Another question for the responsible executive hotshots at Stardor : how on earth had it been possible that mr Dujournot, responsible for all the European branches of Matrix Worldwide, never ever had visited matrix Systems in the States, not even one single time, for those whole six years I had been employed by those bunch of nitwits? This is not normal anymore. This is not to be explained, not even by the intense hatred mr Dujounrot had cultivated against those who had mollycoddled him tho the utmost.

But as I had not found many normal things at Matrix as such, it did not even raise the compulsory questions at my tormented mind.

Could it be because he had been over protected by mr Ron Martin, the executive director of Matrix England an, later on Stardor England and thus direct responsible chief of mr Dujounrot?

Did he cover him up in several ways? Or in one way?  Fact is that mr Ron Martin, as a genuine Englishman, had a highly cultivated a respected sole position within the American group and accordingly a duly respected profile and professional esteem.

Or were the American blind? Did they only see the reduced costs and fiercely  growing sales? I guess so. Only those figures mattered at the end. For sure. Not the craziness of possible employees, on the verge of loosing their marbles. They were left out the exquisite package mr Dujounrot yearly presented to those he begrudged the most, the silly, and oh so naïve Americans, as Venetian blind as they ever could be. What a manager he was. What a manager he had been! My oh my…..

 

Mr Dujounrot never ever had thought of the possibility that mr Moipatron , his fellow countryman, his one and only true assistant,(till italy did them part) his solid rock he could build his Italian absences on, had been intensely working on a scheming plan to set him aside. Soon. Very soon now….

 

The urge to obtain full control over Matrix Belgium had grown to unbearable hights and intense horrendous  tensions. He had to proceed and be victorious over his brother. The flat screen had not been enough. The “assistant” title neither”. He had to conquer the separate office with closable door, at the end of the building. The managerial fully leathered seat would be his, one day, soon. He had set his priortities. “Customer care” was not one of them. The “truth” neither. He clearly had other educational guidelines as those I had been raised with. My honesty, truthfulness, sense of justice and overall loyalty had not brought me one single advantage, until now, in these obscure international surroundings…

At the contrary. They had worked against me.

 

The existence of “conference calls”, e-mail, webcam conferences, and other new tech developments, were no excuse whatsoever for the absence of at least six consecutive years of mr Dujournot in the States. No one who asked any questions around and about this peculiar and persistent absence of one of the major players on the Matrix international team. Unbelievable. Now, if you have to run a worldwide sales network, would you not, just for once a year, like to have the possibility to look straight in the eyes of your salesmen? To smoothen up things. To hang out with each other on a wasteful drunken evening with lots of champagne and female exquisiteness? So you would bond up for at least a few hours a year? To feel the common drive and interests? To understand the road you follow is the same as your fellow colleagues at the other end of the ocean?

No wonder mr Dujounrot kept aside from that all. He did not dare to let look into his eyes of bamboozle and fraud. He did not want to hear from the road to be taken by all Matrix executive sales responsible, he had chosen long time ago which road he would follow: the one leading straight to personal enrichment and the warmth of two Italian hooters with tight and solid nipples, somewhere around the Italian Riviera. He did not want some strange American eyes looking the same direction. I bet he ‘d found it hard enough to let mr Moipatron for some parts being a fist hand accomplice in his plans, since alone, on his own,  he never could have pulled them through for that long, in any case. But even to mr Moipatron, mr Dujournot told as little he possibly could. Even if he would be on the verge of shooting another load of his elderly sperm between the tities with upright nipples of Carola, which she would not allow at any case, then still, he would keep on denying  firmly that he had ever had any relationship to her, and surely not a sexual one…. Striclty business….”I had never had any sex with that women…” as said by one of your pretty American presidents, the denial would be equally convincing to all parties. So that is why he never choose to visit Matrix USA. He kept his hidden, real life as far from Matrix as he possibly could do so. Understandable from his point of view. Unforgivable from the point of view of those in charge at the top of Matrix USA. By their reluctant, even blind attitude, they allowed him for all those six years (at least) to execute his personal enrichment plan on the back of those who performed a decent and really tough job on the floor in Antwerp. We were the executers. We were “les quatités negligables.” The quantities with no value whatsoever. Just do your job, silly and please “shut the fuck up!”

The USA officials of Matrix let mr Dujounrot play his game of deceit and scam. Mr Dujounrot always tried to keep the budgetarian annual growth to a lowest amount possible, so he could easily book the potential promising extra’s under his own favourable newly invented account numbers, far out of sight of the American eyes. They tried to put some pressure on these minimum growth figures, but, one way or another mr Dujounrot got them finally  agreeing on his ultimate proposal. Both mr Moipatron and Anissa had to be aware of these tricks to keep cash away from the American dream, in order to devert it into his own pocket. I believe this is one of the major reasons why Anissa always could have counted on any back up possible from mr Dujounrot. She had been his one way ticket to his personal richness and wealth. Since mr Moipatron had to create the necessary counterfeit accountnumbers to make thing work, he too, had  a perfect insight in about what had been going on all the time…He too, had to protect Anissa to let her do what she needed to do : to book the wrong figures underneath the wrong account numbers.  As a counterbalance, mr Dujounrot let mr Moipatron play with the idea that he had been the sole and only office manager of Matrix Belgium, since he had been out of the country most of the time. In fact, in reality, mr Dujounrot had consequently blocked all descisions made by mr Moipatron, and by these means, mr Dujounrot kept his powerful position at Matrix Belgium, even if he sipped out of another glass of whiskey under the Italian sun. At the end, mr Moipatron did not ask almost anything anymore at mr Dujounrot, since he knew the answer would be negative at forehand. Slowly but surely mr Dujounrot started to loose his grip upon Matrix Belgium. But the intensity of his relationship with those two superb pair of hooters with the always upright standing nipples, which seemed to glow as if polished, in the descending Italian sunshine of another fabulous sunset,  had been soo strong that he became almost sightless for reality. His trust in the managerial qualities of mr Moipatron on the office level became legendary. Because it suited him well. At the time.

 

He had no idea that all the legs of his executive chair were almost gone and that he was on the verge of collapsing. 

 

No hooter in the neighbourhood would keep him upright.

 

I have always thought of mr Dujounrot of being one of the greatest con man in history. He at least was the greatest I had ever encountered in my life. I had never ever seen such abhorrent selfish behaviour in my entire professional life.  The way he approached his total setup environment to deceive everyone involved, took enormous proportions. Every thing he said had been fake. All his explanations  about almost anything, were a plain lie. He used the Americans as an excuse to cut upon an IT upgrade. He used the strong position of the US dollar against the Euro as a pretext to cut on the bonuses we were entitled to. He used the fake and never pronounced  “njet” of Ron martin (he knew no one of us dared to check upon the value of his explanations on its legacy) as a defence to admit a well earned and deserved salary raise.  To all presented problems, he did hide behind his own wall of usefull Americans to be used at own free choice and the international Matrix structure. Although we knew he did whatever he wanted to do on the European contintent, he liked to play the victim of descisions, (that were never actually made) by the Americans, but that suited him perfectly to be used to evitate a local dispute on some issue. At the end, it was only mr Dujounrot himself who believed he had done a fine job and no one would ever know how he had misled those retarded Americans all along. Including us, the handful of local nitwits, who believed everything the big boss ever uttered. That is what he thought. Big mistaka to maka.

The amazing thing about this all was the initial attitude of cultivating “truth” and “honesty”, as mr Dujounrot liked to present himself to others. He would go mad if you would even indicate the slightest presumption of something dishonest or unorthodox in his actions, sayings or deeds. To me it seemed that by choosing this path of false truth, he could hide his actual opposite handlings, of which he truly believed no one had been  ever aware of.

At least the Americans were not. For many, many years. They have been canopy, as blind as a mole,  because he had been fully protected by Ron Martin. Until mr Moipatron started to talk to Trend Straw.

 

The ultimate beginning of the end. It had started by his severe underestimation of his fellow colleagues. His superiority led him to defeat. He had to go. But not yet. Soon, very soon.

If you see what happened at “Enron” in the States, then I can understand how easy it had been for mr Dujounrot to mislead those naïve Americans, still every night dreaming of the all-American dream they had made possible. Do not misunderstand me: Stardor had been a strong company and had made a fine selection of daughter companies that all, one by one were responsible for strong yearly growing figures, something that pleased the shareholders tot the utmost and confirmed that they had followed the right path towards always more money. Because the only goal a shareholder has, is to hoist  money, always more and more cash.  No matter how it had been achieved.  The more, the better.  This is the curse of living in an economical society, driven and dictated by cost-effective rules. Everything and everyone had to contribute to the raise of capital. By writing a bible of good behaviour and conduct and internal ethical codes to be followed by all employees, the corporate conscience had been set at ease and asleep. No one dared to wake it up. Till I came along.

Now they were awake. So was mr Dujounrot. Those past six months without crummy Karine (poodle head), working at customer care had been living hell. But no one cared. Mr Moipatron had been too busy with his plan no one knew anything about. No change was to be expected. No one did anything to replace this crazy woman.

I tried to talk about it with me Moipatron several times, but this subject became consequently neglected. One way or another, mr Moipatron always seemed to avoid this subject by leaving the room, answering the phone, running off to the warehouse…anything to avoid the truth about the crisissituation of customer care.

My days at Matrix started to look like a battlefield on which I was loosing my battle. As Anissa kept filling her days as she always had done by complete nothingness and an occasional

 “Gerard, can you come to my desk, please????”

 to solve again another of her brainly deficiencies.  I had no time left. Work was growing on me like an unstoppable cancer, spreading all over my precious organs to infect them lethally. Invoices became larger as each order of our major clients grew every next time they placed onotherone. Good for Stardor. Every client had gotten a personalized treatment. Some wanted an immediate invoice.Others only wanted theirs at the end of each month. We, at customer care, arranged all for them. Of course this took time and organisation. At some point time started to lack. I really did not get things done anymore on time. This became disastrous if no help, no aid would be hired to replace poodle head, but then on a full time basis. Since this discussion had been avoided by mr Dujounrot and mr Moipatron every time I started to talk about it, (it never seemed to be the appropriate time to do so, always other priorities seemed to pop up from out of nowhere to shrink the meaning of my urngent issue). It had been clear to me for a while already that both mr Moipatron and mr Dujounrot were stalling my demand, my urge for additional help as long as they possibly could, because they both hoped that I would resign out of sheer despair.

Why?

Because they both had other important things on their sick minds. REPLACING Karine Was not one of those things. Nor could they cope with my continuous assail on the vacuum of Anissa’s non existing workload, since they both used her and needed her illegal services for urgent, but different reasons. You know now why. So they both  really could do without my constant assault on her daily abnormal office behaviour because deep down inside, they knew I had been right all along and they did not want to admit this, to no one,  since her obscure services were still needed in the future. She had been a marjonette hanging on strings, used by the distant Italian players. According to mr Moipatron mr Dujounrot even had an office, a real own workplace, a separate room for himself, with his own fax and office material to work with. (Am I repeating myself? I dunno. I guess the official English connoisseur, miss Sophie Smolders, a fine young woman, raised in old England, now studying in London to become a first class journalist) who is going to correct all linguistic abnormalities, shall have to pay attention and kick any double talk out of these sentences so you would not get bored by my endless repetitions.) Meanwhile, I try to remember as much as I possibly could so no details would be left out of this story, not even close to an end, yet!

Drowning, yes sir, I had been drowning in my workload. Nice huh!

Going to work at matrix Belgium had become real torture. Especially when you saw this difference in working speed, every second of the day right being displayed before your own eyes. It was like driving a Porsche, full speed at a 165 Miles per hours, overtaking an East European Trabant, almost standing still with the East European spy still inside, unfolding his devious plan of counter espionage. I had no tools to alther this situation. My direct superiors had no ears. They were deaf. They were mute. They both ignored me. They had other plans, plan without me.  Even my partner in crime, my outdoor sales buddy Wolfgang Hanssen started to notice that something had been going wrong at our Belgian office and that I could no longer cope with the present situation. Once I had said this to him. I clearly stated that the present management, as installed right now, did not provide me with the necessary tools and possibilities to let me do my job as thorough as I could. Wolfgang listened to me but did noot react. He could not do much about it. He had been out of the office as a true salesman should be and office issues should be dealt with by the actual office people, together with the responsible bobos.  I had not right ot rely on him, I had no right to expect some support form his side, even when our customers were going to be victimised by this overwhelmingly wrong situation. He just knew things were not that easy going any more. As on outdoor sales , he had no internal power neither to change things. Not for the worse, not for the better. He certainly would not do anything to upset the management. Since they had been good to him. As he had been excellent for Matrix Belgium. What results!!! he brought in, every week again! As salesperson, Wolfgang had made a huge progress and on the international scale of all sales representatives worldwide, he had climbed from position fifteen to number 2! He had worked himself up the ladder of recognition and merit and had no intention to give this place up to no one, at the contrary. Number one had been mr Dujounrot, all the time, for years and years, since he, as a general manager, assigned all easy going, faithful and steady clients to his personal account. As the CEO, he had no obstruction. He decided, the others accepted; it was as simple as that. And like this, it had always been, while mr Dujounrot had been in charge. Time for a definite change, mr Moipatron must have thought : “and like this I can still win this contest against my brother, poor loser with is ridiculous bank he plays in. let him have his flat screen. That is about all he has. Sucker! Wait till my plan will succeed! You ll be flabbergasted! “

I remember one time, when I had been in the middle of phone calls, credit notes, corrections of wrongly issued adjustments on the lists of unpaid invoices, thrown on my desk as usual to fix it, when both mr Moipatron and mr Dujournot concluded on of their rare life meetings, in the office at matrix Belgium. Karine had been sacked long over six months now, so no excuse whatsoever could have been used to stall further action in this matter.

It had been time for some action.  Time to kick some ass.

 

Chapter fifty two : the beginning of the end

 

I looked very closely this morning, standing naked in front of the morning mirror. I did not like what I saw. At all. Time for some action. On all levels. The professional shoes with the tips made out of solid steel, I already had in my possession. Of course, the finest leather covered those tips so you would not see, nor feel, nor suspect the lethal impact such tip could evoke on a possible victim. Occasional blood would not be able to moisture the steel frame. I had bought some powerful shoe polish from “ça va seul”, the most famous brand in the market of shoe polish in Belgium, to wipe off all trash and occasional dirt that would land on my fortified shoes, when I would use them in full action. They were beauties. They stood, side by side, next to the front door, waiting for me to start kicking some ass. In this case, you even could interpret it literally. But is was not the time yet to do so. No sir! I needed to purchase some more tools to carry out my conclusive finalisation of these lines in progress. I needed a middle sized bag, some 100 litres of content,  made out of strongly woven textile materials, to add to my other tools I had already waiting to accomplish my duty. My Sudanese sward with the razor blade  sharpness as a silent witness of earlier east African beheadings stood aside my boots of steel, patiently awaiting next to the entrance door. It was just a matter of time. Really. But first, I have my finalize my story. Today I did see Anissa again. In order to fulfil my conclusive plan, I drove to Matrix and parked my car just behind the last corner so I kept out of sight. As usual, she sat behind her personal computer and did nothing but chat. Nothing had changed since I had left. Certainly, mr Moipatron would not have found the guts to say something constructive to her or even something that would make her more productive than she had been, ever before. This should not have been very hard, actually, since her productiveness for Matrix had been reduced to mere obstruction towards any normal evolution of this sick company and its twisted employees. Today it is the midst of June and this is not the time to deploy my conclusive arrangement. It is still too early for several reasons. One of which I told you as I first need to finish up the content of this story. So you’d understand. Everything about anything. Furthermore, I need nature to cooperate. Not to obstruct me. I had been obstructed far more than enough, thank you so much!!! I could ever have dealt with in my entire life by Anissa. Time to pay her a little tribute back. I indeed needed nature’s aid in several ways. So I have to wait. And I need to purchase this textile bag. It should be impermeable as well. Possible Liquids inside should not be  able to dribble and leak out of it.  Although some bodily fluids can be pretty firm and solid liquids,they  still can leave some nasty and for all unwanted stains on about anything, that would give me straight away. I had to avoid this at all cost. But this was something I had to worry about later on. Say December 2006. But, then again, I could intend to strike much earlier, as a sign of my unpredictability. I should not give myself away at forehand, really. No sir. I should let speculations to be opened for discussion and interpretation of the mind.  I may not take away all tension before it all even would have started. I have to allow the intensity of primal fears and lethal anxiety to be cultivated by those whom are entitled to have the full rights to feel that way by their earlier destructive performances amongst colleagues... This is what a filthy mouth can evoke….Excuses are no longer accepted and feeling sorry has become a feeling too late. Regrets are always late. Much too late in this case, truly.

AS MR Moipatron and mr Dujournot concluded one of their rare meetings, I used the opportunity to talk to them. About my crummy and deteriorating situation at customer care, due to lack of proper support.

 

“Did you discuss the departure of Karine and her replacement?”…

 

 I threw straight in mr Dujounrots face as he went out of his office (limping as usual) and passed by my desk (which he usually never did as he always tried to avoid me for one reason or another) for a pee he never arrived to perform since I attacked him on this essential matter. Essential for me at that time. Not for him. Apparently he had been struck by my straight forward question, he never expected. He looked at me if I just came frome some distant moon. He kept silent for some minutes. I knew he was contemplating on his answer,as he saw my anxiety in my tormented eyes of despair. I really wanted some constructive answer this time. It had been long enough that I had worked without any support nor understanding from both supposing leading characters of this insane firm. Consequently, he had ignored my e-mails about this subject or he had found a way to avoid any discussion on this money consuming matter. He did not give a shit about the deteriorating quality of my customer care, due to the lack of staff. Which led to lack of time. His answer better be good this time. (what an idiot I was…) (A real freaking moron.)

“No, as a matter of fact, we have not had time to talk about this issue at all…really…, but I assume it is not that urgent, is it?”, he added in a quite reminiscent  way, expecting me to shut the fuck up. Which I did not. This had been the one answer he should not have been given me. No sir. Not at all. I stared to freak out. In real time emotion. My bloodstream had lost all control. I felt it pumping right up into my head. All veins had been stretched and fully tested on their elasticity to the utmost by the intense power boost they had to endure because of the sudden explosion of utter rage and almost beastly fury I had to cope with for the first time in my entire life. I had no idea wha was happeing to me at that specific moment. It looked like I was turning into some kind of “hulk” creature, dealing with tons of undealth emotions of despair and intellectual desolation. I had no capacity to think straight any more, any longer. I exploded, right into his face. Into the astonishing face of mr Dujounrot, who felt the upcoming intense pressure of his pee getting unbearable between his  pair of really ailing legs. He needed to pee, quite urgently indeed. But he dared not to move. Not at this moment. It would have been mortal. For him. At that time. I wasn’t me any more.

 

I started to utter some sentences as an answer to this unbelievable remark of mr Dujounrot on his way to have a comforting pee, but in the heat of it all, I cannot repeat what I had said. Simply because I cannot reconstruct what I said then, and there. Generally speaking,  I do know what I said, but how I said it, is completely blocked out of my system. I guess it has all to do with some kind of self protection. What I had become in those few minutes, evoked by some total respectless sentence, had been something I never ever had dreamed of. I resented my own creature of verbal violence, a solid cry in the dark for some constant refused professional attention. The system of mr Dujounrot had failed. I had become the living prove of it. His ignoring strategy proved wrong, so wrong. I could not cope with it any longer.

 

I shouted as I have never ever shouted in my life. Straight into his face. I bet, he only could think of his squeezing overfilled bladder, as he stood there, in the middle of the office floor, with his legs crossed to prevent overflow.

The shy boy, finally loosing the burden of his lifetime shyness.

The shy boy, loosing finally the weight of his lifetime timidity.

What a verbal explosion that became!

 

As I was exploding, my anger even became worse with every word I threw into the office space to land straight into mr Dujounrots visage filled with unbelief, as I started to realize that mr Dujournot never ever had any intention of replacing Karine at all! He had me waiting to let the legal time of 6 months pass by, so the company cost would not have been under pressure because of double payments, as he simply used this time to stall, once again, another descision of which the final outcome had been determined already in his own deceitful mind. He thought that we had everything under control since mr Moipatron, the so called “assistant”, never ever had ventilated, nor uttered one single word to mr Dujounrot all those past months, where we were truly drowning in our daily workload. Mr Moipatron just had kept silent, out of own benefit, using the same method of ignoring and total silence as mr Dujounrot used to practice, to avoid any problem. All my constant verbal complaints during  those past 6 months had led to nothing , no result whatsoever. At the contrary. The body language mr Dujounrot used to protect himself against my rant and rave, had been a very daring one : he simply stood there, his first peedrops entering his “Calvin klein” underwear shorts, smiling at my tormented face, demonstrating his untouchable status as supreme manager.  His demonstrative attitude of “I could not care less about your problems”, made me fume. He knew that, if I would hit him, physically, he could fire me on grounds of illegal actions and so he would not have to pay me a single dime.  My violent action kept luckily restricted to the inexorable flood of words I debated. Something Inside me kept me from performing the stupidity to undertake any violent action further than my explicit verbal expression. In my insanity, I kept my sanity. How strong can a person be? At the end of the emotional cord?

 

Every emotion I had kept inside for so long towards mr Dujounrot, came out. I do not remember the exact words, nor the general content. I only knew, I felt relieved after my outburst had stopped. Like a steaming kettle on a hot plate; I knew I could not stay in the office any longer at that specific moment. I did not really expect an answer back from mr Dujounrot, as he had already gave me one, even without saying one syllable.

 Besides the very wrong initial answer, he had replied on my question about the replacement of Karine, he had clearly demonstrated to me  his total immunity towards everything that  directly concerned the Belgian office. He had appointed mr Moipatron to run the place.  Case closed. Since mr Moipatron never ever had spoken him about possible shortage of staff and subsequent time and handling problems at customer care during those past months of absence of Karine( since she had been fired),to him, there never had been any problem at the first place.

It had been the duty of mr Moipatron to solve this problem, if it had occurred and if he had not done so, he could not care less. No way that he should or could get involved in such trivial local executable hitch. It had been non-existing. A non-event. I over-exaggerated. I over reacted. It was I to blame. Me, again. The Catholics had been right all the time. How on earth could they have known all the time whom they should blame? Easy:  it is I….

Since, as from birth, I am running with this huge sign on my forehead, saying: “shit here”. You knew that! Every body knew that, but me….

Very disappointed, shaking, with upcoming tears of despair, I turned around and I left the buiding. I went straight home.

 

Half an hour later my phone rang. It was Wolfgang Hanssen.

Inquiring what had happened at the office. News travels fast. Gossip even faster. Mr Dujounrot had thought it to be opportune to inform Wolfgang Hanssen about the irrational and “even violent “attitude I had demonstrated in the office, just a few minutes ago. To me, I saw this as an clear and simple attempt of mr Dujounrot as he had been finally trying to break our successful cooperation of which he had been so jealous. Not with words. He could not stand the thought that may be some day soon, mr Hanssen would take over his numero uno position as outdoor sales. No way. This had been the excellent opportunity to clear some dirt in front of his path towards dictatorial success. I had been this dirt. Luckily, for me, Wolfgang Hanssen did not play this game. He wanted to hear both sides of the story. Which is the only sane thing to do. Especially when strong emotions are involved.

 

Emotions of total despair, unswervingly induced by ensuing neglect and intellectual and affecting disregard of professional deficiencies due to external circumstances.

 

Chapter fifty three : the end of the beginning

 

I had arrived at the end of my emotional tunnel. I could not even think straight anymore. By going home, I did the only sane thing left. Instead of trying to understand the reason for my outburst and the content I tried to utter, mr Dujounrot clearly used this opportunity to weaken my position at customer care; it had been an ideal moment of proving me instable. He could, actually break the successful connection between Wolfgang and I, leading to those magnificent sales results the past few years, results, mr Dujournot only could have dreamed of. However, because they had grown so fiercely, he started to see this a thread to his own sales position within the Matrix group. Growth, ok, but not too intense…Anything that could arouse the suspicious minds of the USA should be avoided at any cost.

 

Of course, this outburst had been totally unprofessional. I fully do agree on that one.  It had been but very human, though. A result of years of neglect. Trying to do my job as good as I possibly could with the few tools that we had left. After a mentally disabled Karine had gone, we were on our own. No support whatsoever. And although I clearly knew by now, after six years of working for mr Dujounrot, that he was not the most spendable person on this planet, I still kept hoping, that after some urge, he would conclude we needed soon and structural aid again, to cope with our explosive growth. I told you I had been naïve in my entire lifetime. I kept on hoping for things to happen that would never happen. My naivety kept me for seeing the truth and reality. Why would anyone help me in my position?

 

I just could not cope any longer whith the fact that my words of anguish and despondency  were considered as being void, being non-existing. Not one single element of value or recognition to be added to my cry for help.I had been alone in the desert, with this huge sign on my forehead : “shit here”…

 Things went too good. Too soon, too strong. Time to build in some rupture. Let him crash for once. It will make him vulnerable and maybe his attitude towards Anissa will change for the better…Moreover, mr Moipatron never told me there had been a problem at customer care..;so what the heck?

 

What Is this???????? A mail from Patrick, straight to me? I do not deal with that. He should address himself to Gerhard. He is the assistant. Not me. That is why he is there in the first place.  I am the general manager……come on dear, pour me another whiskey….not so much ice, you Italian twit. I am getting sick of all those people not doing their job. Would you rub my back again, dear?

 

-------Original message-----------

From: Patrick (mail to : Patrick@matrixsystems.be)

Sent : donderdag June 12, 2003 10.53

To : Gerard (mail to : gerhardmoipatron@matrixsystems.be)

To : Wolfgang (mail to : wolfganghanssen@matrixsystems.be)

To : Poulaindujournot (mail to : poulaindujournot@matrixsystems.be)

Mr Dujounrot, mr moipaton, Wolfgang,

I will not longer stand the “terror” of Anissa in our office. I will not accept the way she acts herself through the “nothingness” now for over four years. It has been enough. I am very urgently in need of a holiday.

Still I can judge very clear and quiet and with an open and strong positive mind. I am responsible and need this positive attitude for our customers, every day again. I think we do have come a far ways since almost started four years ago. With the help of many, especially Veronique, Tessy and Wolfgang, whom I like to thank for all the support they had given me during sometimes very hard times.

Still we manage everything “on our own”. Customer service is entitled to get the support necessary that it deserves, not the counterworking it receives up until now.

I know my decision may cause that I will at the end be the one with the poorest outcome, but better this than a further life under the continuous terror of a fellow colleague. If this situation in the office is not drastically changed towards the best possible support for customer care, I will immediately draw my conclusions and will start to make my life again comfortable.

With greetings from

Patrick

Matrix systems

Customer care Belgium

------------------------------------------

 

I am not going to bother you with a lot of my desperate mails, but this has been one of mine soo many distressed attempts to get the final attention of mr Dujounrot on the crummy and sickening situation at the offices in Belgium, due to the constant absence of mr Dujournot, the inability of mr Moipatron to deal with the situation, I doubt it if he wanted to deal with it anyway… the despicable continuous attitude of Anissa on every occasion she had to deal with some initial working pressure and the lack of staff after the departure of Karine. On such mails, I never got an answer back. Only Wolfgang tried to set things at ease, but never forced a resolution to ameliorate the immediate situation. How could he? He was an outdoor sales and thus not capable of arranging the things as he wanted them. Mr Moipatron just tried to cover things up. As if he wanted to show the external world that he had everything under control. Since he had been active on a different subject, we did not have a single clue about.

 

Mr Dujounrot really did not give a fucking shit about this all. It would,  in the end,  be the biggest mistake he had ever made in his professional scam career.

 

Mr Moipatron did not talk a lot. I told you so. As I have repeated myself several times on several occasions. Sophie will have a hard time to scratch those double sentences out of my book, so you would not be annoyed by endless repetitions; but I would like you to get as much info on the subject as I could possibly give you. So, I‘d rather tell you too much then too little.  Mr moipatron had been a silent person, over the years. He did talk much, towards the others, on the phone, but never to us, in the office. Only when it concerned plain chitchat, the pure gossip levelled stuff. Then he could not been beaten. Professional talk, however,he avoided.  It had been apparent he did this to keep his position upright. To protect himself. As I had seen this kind of attitude on many occasions in my former life at the other companies as well. Job protection, they call it here, in Belgium. Never say anything about your work or its content towards strangers. Keep the content vague and act as if what you are doing is the most difficult job in the world, even if you are just replacing a screw. The IT world is filled with job protecting characters. Easy solutions are always translated as highly technical procedures, based upon some university degree scripting.  

 

So any detailed information on one of our customers, he kept for himself.

But mr Moipatron did talk a lot, at the phone, to Trand Straw. And to Wolfgang, too. I had not time to pay attention on the content, although he was sitting just across of me. I had better listened to his constant mumbling. He often, most of the time, actually, lowered his voice to a whispering level. Quite annoying, and absolutely irritating, since he used to talk for hours and hours, especially at the end. Now I know he needed those talks to prepare the exit of mr Dujounrot. He had not time left to deal with the actual office besoignes. First, he had to eliminate our mutual leader of all swindle, mr Dujounrot. I have no idea how he did it. But he did it.

It had taken him thousands of phone calls, discussions, passing on information on ordered goods out of Italy, ordered goods for Italy…arranging connections to prove the scam, assembling written prove on changing orders, changing systems to the benefit of JayBaySay and thus to the benefit of mr Dujounrot. I think, at the end the Americans had been convinced about at least the fact that there had been a clear from of wrong mutual interest, not acceptable for any CEO. It had been a clear case of conflict of interest, not for the better for Matrix Systems, at the contrary. He had used and abused all systems, his total freedom to act, deal and wheel, whine and dine. His own personal profit had but gained expansively. We ail had known that. We all had seen that happen. We all had allowed it to happen, since no one had the courage to act against it, but mr Moipatron. Envy and still an initial feeling of justice had driven mr Moipatron, together with his selfish urge to take over full control so he would win this career contest of his brother, to set mr Dujounrot aside.

 

By making mr Moipatron his assistant, mr Dujounrot had counted on a 200 % personal loyalty on his behalf. This is one of the reasons, Mr Dujounrot could focus more and more on those exquisite Italian hills of fleshly pleasures in a Mediterranean environment that JayBaySay was offering him in the person of Carola.  He had undoubtedly used mr Moipatron and his new title for his own proper benifit. However, this is exactly as we all knew mr Dujounrot: selfish and egocentrically to the limit of it all. No one of us was really astonished by this recent development. Only, mr Dujounrot never ever had expected that mr Moipatron would stick a huge knife into his tormented back. Because of his limping problems, his back became more and more aching. It all is connected, you know. Really.  It is as simple as that. But as mr Dujounrot had been concerned, there never ever had been simple truth. Truth was as complex as the complete fake surroundings and devious settings he tried to create around him in front of our own eyes. I could never believe that he hoped we could or would not see through all of this. How stupid can a man be? Very, I guess, especially when you are in love. Then, men make serious mistakes, totally blinded and only guided by the hormonal fluids the body incubates in the stream of sheer anxiety and lust.

Mr Dujounrot believed his own life made out of constructive lies and plain cheating. Mr Moipatron made him believe it as he acted as if he would believe it too. As an assistant to the general manager, he had to believe it. It had been his job, his profession to believe it. Being French too, mr Moipatron had the same primal but deadly urge  to control it all. Once mr Dujounrot had been eliminated, he would take over. He had never spoken about this, to no one. To no one? I do not know for sure, actually. I start to think that he did speak about his actions to get mr Dujounrot out of the Matrix system. I suspect hem to have spoken about it with Anissa at least. She had been his accomplice at first hand. He must have spoken with Veronique too. Since her basic attitude had changed a lot those final days at Matrix Systems. Surely mr Moipatron, never had said a word about his intentions to me.  And I had no time at all to pay attention to what really had been going on during those whispering phone calls, right in front of me.

Only afterwards, after it all had been carried out, it became clear to me that everything had been extremely well planned by those who would take advantage from the putch. They all had been in contact with one another and they all kew exactly what had been going on. I knew nothing.  I came from Barcelona…

 

Chapter fifty four : the exit  of mr dujounrot

 

---------original message------------

From : patrick (mail to : patrick@matrixsystems.com)

To : rommartin@stardor.com

Dear mr Martin,

On the first meeting in the office, and the presentation of the future of MATRIX, it was clear to me that, again, essential management mistakes have been made.

With the departure of poulain (mr Dujounrot), I regained little hope that things - related to my work at customer service - were going to change for the better at Matrix Systems, but my hope soon turned out to be in vain. Not one single word has been spoken about the situation at customer service. I have my reasons to believe this is done on purpose, as you read along, you will understand why.

 

First : the departure of Poulain Dujounrot is one issue.

The replacement of him, a total different one.

 

About this change, nobody in our office was consulted, which I think is an essential mistake for such a small crew, Matrix systems Belgium is.

Of course, I, who is planning to leave as soon as I get the opportunity, have no benefit whatsoever, with declaring my opinion about this, but still, seen my past as a quality control manager in a big tourism company ( with 33 own offices), where I worked for over 6 years (till it was taken over...the usual story)

, I think I can still contribute to the benefit of Matrix Systems, since my loyalty always goes out to the company as such and its customers. The only true manager for me, are and always will be my customers, wherever I have worked and will work in the future.

 

I just provide you in an open and honest way my personal point of view about what has happened and what is going on at the moment at NV.

you are of course totally free in using this information to the best benefit of the company, something which you will do so, since I consider you as one of the true leaders of Stardor/Matrix.

 

Leadership and respect for this leadership is something you cannot impose on someone, it is something the leader must deserve, must earn by his actions, by his example, by his knowledge, by his merit for the company in general.

 

 

Let me start from the beginning :

 

About the departure of Poulain Dujounrot, we, at Matrix Systems unanimously can be very clear : it was about time that new leadership was to be installed to guide this rapidly expanding (still small but powerful) group of mature strong individuals, who managed to realize a remarkable growth for the fifth consecutive year (in a row).

 

Wolfgang Hanssen,  now taking over all European Matrix Sales, is a good thing. Wolfgang is a hard working very good, even excellent salesman, who has the same ideas about handling a customer as I do, full support, full service, whatever it takes. This only builds strong  long-term customer relationships which is only a true benefit for each company to have.

 

Gerard Moipatron, taking over the general management of the office is another story :

Gerard is, in my modest opinion, a fine technician, a very intelligent guy, who knows a lot about our systems and the systems business in general and is a perfect element in a supportive role to the customers, if the pressure is not too high. Handling an office and, more important, its people, is another thing. Matrix Systems Belgium has always, since the last five years, driven on the qualities of fine strong individuals, who took responsibility towards their work, without needing a real "chef" in the house, being around all the time.

 

I honestly believe, though, that Gerhard is not really a "people" manager. He was clever enough at the time to get himself promoted by Poulain to his assistant for obvious reasons, so the next step to this level he reached now would be a logical one. I am afraid it is one step too far ahead for him.

 

First of all Gerard and I differ quite a lot about the customer treatment issue, but since I am leaving this is no longer my problem.

Gerard has been located just in opposite of my office desk, so I have heard and seen quite a lot in a short amount of time.

 

Secondly, Gerard has never, in his function as assistant to poulain Dujounrot, done anything about my working situation, about the overload on work, just look at the sales figures as they tell you exactly what I mean.  Furthermore we dropped from three full time employees for Customer service to two and a half, the last year, which was really too much, considering the annual growth we realized. A true and competent real people manager does something about this situation, but at the contrary, I even think my situation was not considered valid enough and was being minimalized; something I of course cannot prove. I have sent several e-mails about this to poulain, Gerard and Wolfgang, explaining the fact that I could not guarantee no longer the service level to our customers as I would like to see it maintained because of the overload of work. Never any reaction came from nobody. This of course, lead to my psoriasis and my present unhealthy physical condition.

 

It is the task an obligation of every manager to provide the necessary tools to its people to let them perform their work in a decent, human way, so the company would benefit from it. By not doing so, unneccerary failure, mistakes and other negative elements occurred in the process of work, which , of course, lead to even higher pressure and lack of time to solve it all.

 

The way Gerard Moipatron handles things, is also, not mine. The last few months we had to endure lots of whispering conversations between colleagues, Gerard whispering with Anissa, Gerard whispering on the phone to Wolfgang, to so many people, in the States, in France, in England ....about ...we never knew... (I never knew…silly me) Now I realize that he was working on his strategy to drive mr Dujounrot away from his position, so he could take over. never ever came any information whatsoever about this to us, hardworking members of the Baldwin group that kept things going, because you realize that quite some time got into this move, time lost for the "normal" work within the company.

 

I have seen this happening many times before in the other tourism company, and I know that these things do not last. This is not the way to make a carrier move.

Not to me. So I could never, ever consider Gerard Moipatron as my direct superior, at the contrary. The way he works and acts, has not given me any confidence whatsoever for the future of Matrix Systems  in general. I am aware that Gerard feels the fact that I cannot consider him as my superior. That is why he probably will be very happy to see me leave and has he never ever done anything about my poor working conditions, hoping I would leave on my own. Since I do not have my future within Matrix Systems, this is no longer an issue, as stated above.

 

Furthermore, my relation to Anissa is so broken and destroyed during the years because of her totally irrational and rude behavior towards - as she sees it - her minors (although she could be my daughter) that I can , nor want to be any longer  part of this team. Gerardis weel aware of…and knows all about these past conflicts, never ever acted to actually do anything against this abusive behavior. I have sent equally e-mails about this to Poulain, Gerard and Wolfgang, again, as you can guess, no results whatsoever to solve this huge problem. (see example in addition, it reflects my despair at that moment, even only a few weeks ago) these conflicts have been going on with Veronique and tessy and quite some others, but they all are to afraid to bring this up because - what i do understand- they are choosing to protect their own position within Matrix. I only think this is not good for the company.

 

you must understand, Ron, that my bonus issue, is still very dear to me, since I really think I deserved it for the past year. I only cannot get myself to ask again Gerard, as I asked him on this meeting, with no answer or reply. ( I asked to whom we should talk about the bonus, and he replied : me, since you cannot ask poulain any more) So I knew as much as I did before...

 

I was hired five years ago directly by mr Poulain Dujounrot, to built upon a small but growing German speaking market for Matrix Systems Belgium, which, together with Wolfgang, we have achieved.

It was a real challenge to me and I could work in all freedom, according to my customer care believes. Luckily Wolfgang was on the same level as I, so our cooperation was a strong one and we got where we wanted to be.

 

it is now time for me to move forward, even at my age, life still is a real challenge to me, since the employee market is not really waiting for 47 year old job hoppers.

Still I am hopeful for my own future. I hope I did not shock you too much with my information, and I do hope, for the sake of Matrix Systems, that I am wrong about this all, so, under the leading of Gerard, Matrix Systems will still be expanding as strong as it has been doing in the recent past.

 

may be I am wrong, and may be Gerard will prove himself to be the real office manager, Matrix Systems Belgium  is fully entitled to.

 

I do hope so. But I have my strong doubts about this.

And these I wanted to share with you.

 

Have a nice sunny weekend!

best artistic greetings

Patrick

action painter for a better world

www.mylifeisart.com

 

-----Original Message-----


From: Patrick [mailto: Patrick@matrixsystems.be]
Sent: dinsdag 12 oktober 2004 15:34
To: poulain dujournot (E-mail); wolfganghanssen (E-mail 2); veronique (E-mail);
gerardmoipatron (E-mail 2);
tessyjole@matrixsystems.be'

Subject: anissa, again….


I want to set something very clear here,

I thought that the behaviour of anissa was improved lately, but it seems this
was clear wishfull thinking.

it is not that, because I am still working on the age of 47 at customer
service, that i am not deserving any respect.

I will not have someone who could be my daughter (but then she would be much
better raised), who is not even capable of controlling one language
properly,
think that she can talk to me the way she did today (again)

I do not ever accept this. I will not accept excuses. I will restart to
ignore anissa as a person, since I cannot accept any insult of her any more.
Of course you do not know anissa as such, because she is has multiple faces.

I think the people who do the real work in the office should deserve more
aid and respect from those who are in charge.
i said this before and I am tired of speaking to a desert.

I know i cannot count on aid from no one, so for all, you at least know I
still have my feel of honour, which keeps me going on.
sometimes Matrix looks like a true horror film to me. and it seems that I
am the one to be killed.
now you all go on with your all oooh soo important jobs.

I ll try to do a part of mine.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Yes, I did write a mail to the immediate superior of mr Dujounrot. Why? The departure of mr Dujounrot came so sudden and unexpected for me that I needed some reflection and time to sort things out. I lookede for some immediate support, since I realized I stood completely on my own now.  It seemed that I had been the only one in that office who knew nothing about the upcoming changes. One day mr Dujourot appeared again in the office. He came to my desk….my desk only (why???) and said to me: “now I am going to leave Matrix Systems even before you are…isn’t that weird? “He rather told me amused….by the completely spooky situation.

Indeed, just a few days before this sudden office appearance, I had sent a mail to mr Dujounrot to announce my departure because I could not go on like this. To me I had reached every border there had been in my existence. I could not cross another line, not even a thin red one….

I had asked him when he would be back in the office so we could discuss the terms of my departure. As I earned over 26000 Dollars annually, these terms of my resignation had to be discussed and agreed upon by both parties because they had not been fixed by some governmental rules or regulations. He had answered that he did not know yet but it would be some day soon. And there he was, leaving before me. RON Martin Had arrived at the same day. Now I realized it all had been grave, some sudden and drastic changes were to be made I had no clue about. Mr Dujounrot was leaving, but what next? Who would replace him? I soon found out that all these efforts of mr Moipatron had been for the sole benefit of his personal promotion. He would take over, as I always had thought he would do so, but then on a much later occasion. He had only been in his early thirties and not proven himself to be the best possible solution for Matrix? The fact that he continuous and systematically lied to all of our customers was another element, I had not even mentioned to Ron in my defense to rethink all available options. In a personal conversation, Ron confirmed to me the departure of mr Dujounrot. He did not speak about the reasons why he had to leave. He just mentioned mr Dujounrot was ready to tackle some other upcoming opportunities in his life. I confirmed that I wanted to leave as well as I confirmed in my mail to mr Dujounrot, just a few days earlier, when I had no idea of his departure yet. I had not found another job yet, so I agreed on staying at Matrix until some occasion came along and even then, I would be prepared to stay another month to make things work for my successor. It seemed that finally, I would get things under control.

 

And, what was more important, at long terms, I would get rid of Gerard and Anissa, something they both equally had wished for sure.

 

CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE TOTAL SYSTEM COLLAPSE

Chapter fifty five total system collapse

 

Did I have a right to ventilate the truth around here? Of course I did. After years of hard work and incredible sales successes? The company had some obligations towards me. Ron Martin tried to be as friendly has he could have been towards me, even suggesting me a specific moistening cream that would help me to cure my psoriasis, I cultivated because of the vomiting attitude of Anissa.

I had bad luck. Ron Martin was on the verge of retirement, and the cleaning of the Dujounrot Belgian filth and poisoning Italian trash as being one of his own first lieutenants for many years, had to be the last and ultimate performance Ron Martin had to fulfil to end up his personal career in real beauty and so being entitled to the generous farewell handshake, filled with a severe bunch of solid dollars, donated by the majority of all pleased Stardor shareholders for a “job well done”...

He asked if I had any intentions if I would like to stay; now I knew tht mr Dujounrot would not be around anymore. He never ever had been around the Belgian office when he had been the executive officer in charge, I thought, so it would not make that difference. I could not find any pleasure, or gratitude, or intellectual satisfaction in the fact that mr Moipatron would take things over at the office. Even he, had never ever done anything to settle things around the office. All conflicts, he kept out of them, always protecting the wrong one, for reasons of another dimension. Even and also towards tessy, Gerard took the side of foulmouthed Anissa and let her filth spitting orifice vomit green intoxicating dirt all over the place. He never cleaned up the mess she had left behind in our souls, in our scratched psyche of honour and self esteem, again, shattered by the dumb ass hurting remarks Anissa thought she always could set birth to by her eating organ.

So, yes, I had been entitled to tell my side of this sad and sickening story to those who actually had been in charge of it all. If it had not been for the protectionism of mr Ron Martin towards the deeds of mr Dujounrot, all of this would probably not have happened. Because of donating a free forum to mr Dujounrot in his deeds and actions, by letting him select the crummiest people first, based upon their willingness to open up their roast beef caves of fleshly pleasure and anxiety (even if she had faked every single orgasm she ever had in her life because her overwhelming resentment towards the swollen penis had been that intense she even thought she could or would be a genuine lesbian - which had been totally unacceptable in the closed, limited and short-sighted Moroccan surroundings she had been growing up), mr Dujounrot had created the perfect environment for the final disastrous outcome as it presented itself today.

Mr Ron Martin did not answer my mail. What did you think? No one ever had answered my mails. This had been my destiny.  Not one single time, I had one signal from those in charge, that the situation in Belgium had gotten out of hand and that serious managerial mistaked had been made.

I had been too late. Mr Moipatron already had secured himself to be the successor of mr Dujounrot and, together with Wolfgang Hanssen, he would reign over Europe. Of course, Wolfgang had seen the opportunity to take over the “numero uno” position as most successful sales executive of Matrix/Stardor, the moment mr Dujounrot would close the Matrix door behind him. He had every right to take over this position since he had worked for every client as intense as I had done the past six years. Only, he must have forgotten me, on his way up.

 

May be this had been the case because I had expressed my intentions to leave the company on several occasions, when it all grew, once again, over my tortured head again. But as mr Dujounrot had left the building, everything and all could have been different; also for me. Since mr Moipatron had this personal competition going on with his brother, he probably would have had no choice but to follow mr Moipatron to the top, leaving me behind in the desert of my despair.

 

I had no choice left but to leave Matrix. Of course, I had been severely disappointed Wolfgang had forgotten me to take me  along with him on his way up. After all we had been trhough together all those six fucking years. He had chosen the way up in a straight line, the easiest way, after mr Moipatron had killed mr Dujounrot by placing this huge dagger of betrayal in his back. Anissa had secured her position. As Veronique had done. They all had gathered around mr Moipatron, as premium lieutenants, protecting and securing their own working space, and working position. They all, but me, had been aware of what had been going on those last few months and even weeks. They had seen the stiletto coming from far and had seen it land straight into his back. They all had even pushed along to stick it deeper inside the thin, ailing intoxicated drunken and shrinking cadaver of mr Dujounrot. Undressed he would probably look like a dried up raisin. (raisins with Cuban rhum, aaaah, wunderbar! Wonderful! Give me another one dear…)

Of course, mr Dujounrot had not been killed.. Just figuratively speaking of course. If you talk about real death, this is another important issue, not to appear in these pages before the ending of this book. The last chapter will be written off-line. So you will have to buy the book to understand the final outcome. If you still are amongst those who are alive to do so, that is….Some of you will not be. That is for sure. That is a mathematical certainty. Even. Statistically speaking, every single minute one person dies. Therefore, this might as well be you. On the other hand, you, for that matter. I do have my preferences. However, am I to choose? May be. Just may be….I need nature to support me. The sun is too bright nowadays. Just a little bit of moonlight will do fine, thank you so much!

So, I told mr Martin how I saw things at matrix Systems. As you all could read in my mail I started previous chapter with. Big mistake!

For some reason or another, executives supporting one another, (and mr ron Martin did know something about supporting and covering up) mr Moipatron had gotten my mail to mr Martin in his hands. He had been furious. Natruerly he had his reasons to be furious. I would have been furious too. But, hen I had not done what mr Moipatron had done.

He had been on a fair in Paris, when he called Veronique. I saw Veronique, sitting in front of me, acting pretty strangely, saying things like: ” oooh, that is not true, is it? Did he really? My God…;”

“What was that all about?” I tried to find out.  “Oh nothing, “  Veronique replied, “something about his six year old  son in school… he had been naughty…;” with a face you could nail a wooden cross upon. The fake nun.

 

I believed her. Still? I had my doubts. I could feel something had been wrong. No one had been honest again to me those last days. It all consisted out of lies and continuous betrayal until all had been cleared as they had foreseen it. Of course, this phone call was not about his son. It had been about my mail to Ron martin. Mr Moipatron phoned to Veronique to check her loyalty towards him, after he had discovered my honest mail about the present situation Matrix Systems was in.

Mr Moipatron had interpreted my mail as a straight assault on his newly conquered position. He had been right. It was an assault.

But I had enough experience withing this off-coloured firm to understand that my comments would not give a shit to no one, but to me. So what the heck? Why bother at the first place?

The next morning, mr Moipatron entered the office and started to move towards the separate office of former mr Dujounrot.  After only one day, the hawk had replaced and restyled his action field, proving to me his victorious drive he had still going on between himself and his defeated brother, the small town loosing French bank director with his pathetic 15 inch flat screen.

 

“this office is mine… MINE!!!!!, yes MINE. It is MINE NOW!!!!!!”

 

Mr Moipatron felt inside as if nothing in the world could touch him now. He had become invincible.  The ultimate power ranger. With his banged up wife, nicely  and securely in front of the old stove. He had it made. Finally. At the age of thirty something. In his family he’d probably had been the youngest general manager ever! Hurray for that!

Time to deal with me and my mail.

chapter fifty six war

Chapter fifty six : war

Mr Moipatron had been in the office for some time now, arranging his move from his previous working place, next to my desk towards the closable room of mr Dujounrot. At last, he had made it. It had taken him a whole lo of blood sweat and tears to convince those in charge to finally abandon mr Dujounrot from his office on grounds of inappropriate management. After several meetings, kept in total secrecy somewhere in an external three Michelin star restaurant, in the presence of a lawyer, both parties, Stardor and mr Dujounrot had come to an agreement of separation.  Of course, we were not informed about this. It all had to do with the thousands of whispering phone calls mr Moipatron had been having the past six months with about anyone. I never knew about the content of these talks. It  had not been till the moment mr Dujonrot himself came to my desk last week, to tell me that he would be leaving, before me, that I had been aware of the explosive situation on top of this company. I had things to do, you know. Taking care of my customers, for one thing. The customers who were abusively left alone and neglected by about every one else since they had other priorities to take care of, like getting promoted or trying to get in the office of mr Dujounrot, for instance….

As from what I had noticed, mr Dujounrot had not made it very easy for Stardor, since he had negotiated like the best to get as much out of the deal about his departure as he possibly could. He had to keep his car, his laptop pc, his Nokia mobile phone, including his personal phone number (connected to his major clients, you nitwits!!!) and probably some numerous months of farewell payment.

 In any “normal” Belgian company, mr Dujounrot would have had to leave on the spot, directly, leaving his car keys at the secretary’s office desk, leaving all company goods behind, signing his immediate resignation papers and had to leave with a cab or getting picked up by some relatives. Not here, not with Stardor. They rather seemed to honour the fact that they had been conned for sooo long by this half-drunken con man with strong preferences for Italian hooters. Mr Dujounrot had not relatives, not in Belgium. And certainly no one at the office would have given him a ride to the airport. May be mr Moipatron would have done so.

But he had left and taken his Audi A 6 with him.  As a token of appreciation for a job “well done”.  Crazy people, those Americans. If only they knew….I guess they even do not know half of the real story behind this scheming character. You do not have to guess where he went. Straight to Italy of course. He has kept his old phone number, so you still can phone him, if you would wish to do so. I would not know for what reason, though….I had no idea which specific grounds had been decisive for the Americans to send him off and I had no possibility any longer to ask mr Moipatron, since he had read my mail and was not so pleased about it.

After two hours rearranging things, he had called me into his newly conquered office.

His face was white. All blood had been gone elsewhere. Surely not between his legs. His lips were colourless and pinched together. His eyes looked lethal. “Sit down”, he hushed into my direction.

“I have read your mail that you have sent to Ron..;”

, he started…thinking I would be falling of my chair out of pure astonishment. I had not been astonished. I knew one day he would read the mail I had sent. It had been like this all those years now, they had done it with mr Dujounrot, ages ago, when ugly Tanja had written some conspiring and compromising observations  to the USA on mr Dujounrot’s expense notes.  These notes came straight back to her, straight into her face. Her ears started to move, "Dumbo"wise, she even would have taken off…It had been the start of their broken up working relationship with the final consequences that she had left Matrix, after years and years of complaining and crying and being just plain ugly.

 

I was leaving anyway, so I wanted at least to have said it al, to the right people,  before closing my final curtain behind me.

Which I had done. That is why I now sat in the chair with an outraged mr Moipatron in front of me, behind the still colossal desk, making him look like some sort of handicapped, strongly disabled  French dwarf, without human colors. He was shaking all over his body.

The lack of facial blood made me wonder about the complete inevitability to have his arse bleached as well, since this had been the latest hit in the plastic surgeon environment amongst gay people and in the midst of those with severe anal fixations. You cannot walk around in life with your face completely turned white, a bit like Michael Jackson, and still own an unbleached arse. This would be very non-aesthetical  for those whom you share your bed with.

I had taken one of both seats in front of the mammoth desk. Mr Moipatron did not. Undersized as he was, he kept his upright standing position. I suspect him fo wanting to dominate this upcoming converstation. I had been wrong on the conversation part of previous sentence. After the confession about having read my mail to Ron, he started to spit a charade of threatening vocabulary into my direction...He finally had lost all marbles as well. On his fist day as general manager….oh my God…that did not look good. No sir, not at all….

 

“So I have read your disgusting mail, indeed…I do not know what your intentions were, and, I do not care at all about them. Furthermore, the Americans do not give shit about your personal opinion on this matter. The do not care about who you are what you do around here and they certainly do not give a shit about your personal opinion.  I have been appointed general manager of Matrix and there is nothing you can do about it, if you would want this or not. For as long as you still will be working for Matrix, I am going to let you work and work and work and work  as you have never worked before. You will work till you drop down and crawl out of this office.  I will put horrid  pressure upon you from the moment you walk in to this office till you will leave this place.  Is that clear?  I will take away all  the tools of Internet and your e-mails, msn will be closed down,  since you won’t be able to use them again. You can keep your phone and that is it.”,  he concluded, his eyes bewildered looking across his newly liberated headquarters.

 

Is this the way a general manager should talk to his employees? Even if they had done something wrong? Even on his first day in command? I think he truthfully assumed that he had taken over some American army battalion, on a foreign mission, he had to lead through all desert storms. By this abusive explosion of one-way assaulting words, he had demonstrated his conniving inner self, his self-centred, egocentrically intentions to get it all under control. All elementary manners, rules of engagement, mutual respect and honour had been abandoned in his first outraging attempt to clear the local situation. I evidently and immediately had understood that any possible discussion with this still standing irritated French midget, had no use whatsoever. Furthermore, I had no intentions of letting me being insulted by this newest version of  Charlie Chaplin’s imitation of the “grand dictator”.  The nice and ever silent technician had transformed into a pathetic  and even silly tyrant. How soon real power had deformed his brainly activities. It is up until today an interesting subject for all psychologists, psychiatrists and other mental coaches to investigate the devastating influence of real power on human conduct. It had been clear to me that in his domestic small town French mind, mr Moitron had enourmous quandary to deal with the situation he had stumbled into, due to the sudden departure of mr Dujounrot and his appointment as new general manager.

 

 “ Crush all opposition. “ had been the first thing that came into his mind, when he had read my lines to Ron.

 

I stood up in the middle of one of his insulting lines he had uttered towards me, and left his office,went to my desk, turned down my computer, took my jacked and left the building. I could not let myself being confronted one more time, after all the verbal abuse I had to endure all those years by Anissa and by the former management by neglecting every single remark I had ever made about this. Enough had been enough. That is for sure. This dwarf with bleached arse was not going to tell me how my future was going to be. No sir! This had been one step too far. Who the fuck did he think he had been or become? Napoleon? The hat failed. The equal density of his bodily length, he had on his side. The bleached rear entrence aswell. Had he been aware of the fact that Napoleon finally had been defeated in Belgium?

Does the name "Waterloo" ring a bell?

Hallooooo....

 

I came home, sat down at the dining table, took a paper and a pencil and wrote a poem. A multi layered poem.

 

never think it's over....

till the lights have been turned out....

the night and the moon will be my partners in crime.

the desolate concrete fields will be my accomplices,

my ever silent witnesses.

the filthy channel will be my solution.

my fortified shoes will be my translation of anger

guiding me through my walk towards eternal fame

of a life without hatred

nor anguish

nor fear

let the sword swing...

let the game begin...

and just turn out those

fucking lights.

 

patrick gysemberg

action painter for a better world

june 2006

this is a poem you twit

 

I like multi layered poems. It has all to do with the several coats it is covered with. So the reader can choose and select which coat he prefers. When he finds them of course.  I cannot imagine Anissa seing or finding any indication, nor reason, nor explanation possible for these lines of inner destruction. She probably just would be able to read the words. Understanding them is another big issue. But there she has mr Moipatron running around the office thinking he is Napoleon, to help her with.

Then ,I went to see a doctor. My personal doctor. Finally. Because I had a nervous break down. At last.

 My nerve system finally had collapsed. It had given in. Over and out. I had become a total nervous and completely destroyed human wreck.

 

I had not spoken one single word whilst being in the office of mr Moipatron, undergoing his “GOERING”-tirade   and “GOEBBELS”- alike intimidation tactics. - - Goebbels nickname had been : “virtuous liar” , which could have been perfectly applicable on the actual performances of mr Moipatron -- 

 

“don’t mention the war, I have mentioned it once, but I think I got away with it…”(John cleese in Fawlty towers)

 

I had no strength left to react upon this incredible amount of accumulated injustice toward my person. It became a crime on my self, on my human being as such, with direct intentions to break my personality in order to replace me at once. I did not fit in any more. In their nicely set up scheme of things, planned weeks and weeks before the actual departure of mr Dujounrot they had arranged my departure as well. How on earth could I ever accept this new leadership, who lacked all elements of proper managerial skills? Was “constant lying and betraying your customers”, as mr Moipatron systematically used to practice to conceal his professional inability to control the situation,  now going to be the enforced  standards around here?”

 

No way! Not with me! This bounced against all my believes I had ever cultivated from my naïve childhood education onwards till my up growing pains of awakening adulthood. I could not lie to anyone. Certainly not to my clients. I am a person who tries to set the perfect environment to create mutual trust, understanding and loyalty based upon a business relationship of honesty and friendship.

 

No way was I going to practice the elementary sick and totally unprofessional procedures mr Moipatron had executed since he had become an “assistant to the general management”.

But I did not have to worry at all. In their future strategy, they had not foreseen any place left for me to practice my honesty. Veronique had been waiting all along to take over final control over the unit of customer care. Both her unemployed children were eagerly awaiting to step into this new Matrix future, they all had sooo well organised.

I must admit I had announced my departure on several previous occasions, when things had gotten rough again on my account, but then, since mr Dujounrot had left, things could have turned for the better. I had been a complete immature idiot to think this way.

Why would anything ever change for the better for me? For all the others, yes, but for me??? Had I forgotten the huge shield on my forehead, saying “shit here!”?

Why on earth had I to encounter all these depraved and partly insane creatures on my path through life? Did I have to meet with them to enforce writing this book out of my system? Even my worst kind of enemy I would not wish to have an close encounter with a woman even resembling Anissa. Anissa had nothing human on her. Her hair on her back and her permanently dried up pussy with overlapping oversized roast beef resembling lips (time to consider a severe plastic surgery, dear…), being silent witnesses of her devilish sickened mind she rapes all values in life with.

 

I have no clue how the odds work. Do I believe in them? Sometimes. But sometimes not. How much luck can a man endure before misery strikes back? Are we entitled to a life filled with glorified moments of joy and eternal happiness? Guess not. I remember me, standing at the rear end of a cruise liner I once worked upon as tour guide, staring at the sparkling water, illuminated by strong full moon light, in the midst of the Pacific Ocean, just leaving Bora Bora, heading for The Panama channel and Venezuela, that I thought to myself: “how long can this luck I am consuming now at this very moment, be on-going?” I felt, back there and then, with tears in my eyes, that this kind of almost extra-terrestrial luck had its limitations.

 

But then again, how much of terror, anger, anguish, hatred, disappointments, bad luck, can a man cope with, before he is entitled to some portion of fortune and happiness again? Do we control this ourselves or do we just wait and see what happens?

 

 I dunno….

 

But I just cannot cope with the idea that such cruel abusive behaviour both mr Moiparton and Anissa had demonstrated on Matrix grounds, could stay without punishment, even evoking promotion by those incredible naïve controllers from the States.

This is not what justice is all about. This is betrayal and swindle. Mr Dujounrot had already left, probably still thinking of himself to be the ultimate general manager. At least two more to go. One way or another. Napoleon had been overpowered ultimately,  so why not mr Moipatron?

The very moment he had penetrated and subjugated  mr Dujounrot’s headquarters, his final destiny had been designed. His closeby trounce had been inevitable. Stupid Anissa would fall along, since she could not preserve herself without the assist of mr Moipatron. But this is old news. Time to move on with some new developments. Since the war had just begun. Mr Moipatron had won his first battle, but it had been time to strike back. First I had to see the doctor to fix my mental strain.

chapter fifty seven worldwar III

Chapter fifty seven : worldwar III

 

Probably I had responded on all latest developments around the office in a total wrong way, since anything I had done, had turned against me. Mostly because of the fact I had not been aware of the power putsch that had been going on under my nose, without me knowing it (how naïve can one be?), I kept on focussing of ameliorating the working conditions of our customer care department, always hoping things would change for the better. But all of a sudden, mr Dujounrot had left. I always had kept little hope on the strength of his professionalism, on his ultimate strings of permanently weakening connections to elementary justice, to help me at the end since I could not believe one’s selfishness could reach that kind of level it had been heading for. Any human being could have seen that things weren’t right at customer care anymore. A day has only a limited amount of working hours and one pair of hands can only do as much as they can do. Keeping ignoring the shortage of time and staff,  was not the right thing to do, since finally, our customers would be the victim of it all. I had seen this coming for months and months now and wanted urgent managerial feedback, support and fundamental changes in the working processes. My sense of responsibility had been stretched to its outer limits of my possibilities. That is why I had lost all control over myself, when mr Dujounrot had stated that, according to him, nothing had to be done to support customer care. They meticulously kept on being blind for the real problems of every day life…Now, afterwards, I knew it had all its dissimilar reasons. Mr Moipatron had no intention whatsoever to ever support me, he had been busy all the time setting the right trap to eliminate mr Dujounrot and take over control. He did not want me being part of the future team at Matrix, afterwards. Other priorities had been set and were executed the moment I collapsed because I suffered a severe “professional burnout”. I had nothing left to keep me upright. All energy had left my tortured body. I could no longer stand any remarks, nor any sound of a ringing phone. I did not exist any longer. I knew I had been abandoned by my superiors. I just had a physical presence left, without taking part of the actual office life any more. Every muscle in my body ached, even without exercising any corporeal efforts. I had been alive but still lifeless. I had become a waste of space and air. Time to see a doctor.

As expected, my blood pressure had set off to unusual heights and my heartbeat had found a peculiar rhythm of its own, not very healthy for a long life relationship with my body. The diagnosis had been clear : total burnout. I needed a rest for at least one week, if not more….I had been sent off home to take care of my wordly body before it would collapse even further. I had gotten some tranquilizers, some sleeping pills, since I had not slept one single night through since many months now, and some regulatory pills to deal with my blood pressure.  I had a very bad feeling because I had abvandonned the ship, but deep inside, I could not help it any more. Nature had started to talk along in this saga of the incredible selfishness and personal profit those morons were dealing with on my back.

The next morning, the doorbell rang. Anissa had sent me a control doctor.  Why do you think she had done this? To harass me of course. The sooner I would give up this fight, the better. Therefore, strategically spoken, this had been a good move from her point of view. I had been a physical wreck and no mental power left to take up the glove she had thrown at me by sending this doctor to check on my physical conditions. Thank God, the symptoms had been that obvious and clear to detect, that I had no problems convincing this good man of my burnout. He wrote me a note and would inform Matrix of the correctness of my illness.

The next morning, the doorbell rang again. Anissa had found it relevant to send me a second control doctor. Obviously, her intellectual medical knowledge had been so elaborate that she had found reasons to believe my illness had not been justified, even after being diagnosed  by two different, completely independent medical doctors. My God, what a brain she must have had. Such intellect. Such a deceitful mind to think I would try to escape from my working hours, a tactic she had used herself on many previous occasions as  absence of direct office leadership had set this path of daily malicious exploitation free for the irresposable ones.

Of course this good man, the second control doctor, had been quite astonished whe he heard he had been the second one in line to check on my physical disabilities that prevented me from work.

 

It became very clear to him that, of course, he had been used, abused by the urge of Anissa to nail me and my sickness on the cross of illegitimate absence. He had not been happy with this kind of obnoxious behaviour by some low life intellect who even did not know for herself how to behave properly within the standards of a common west European run office.

In addition, the second control doctor, confirmed my bodily dysfunctions at the time and would inform Matrix accordingly. What was Anissa now going to do? Send me a third one? Would this be legal, at the first place? How far can one go on harassing a sick and deranged human creature, on the verge of a physical and mental breakdown? Anissa did not care. She had been in “full attack” mode. Full steam ahead. Full power throttle. I had to be crushed. And she had used the right tools to distort even further my diminishing moral standards and ethical believes to be lowered to a severe -10 on the scale of self-esteem.

 

In her wickedness, Anissa had known quite well what to do to break people. It had been her sport in life form the moment she could speak onwards.  No human creature on this planet, who had met Anissa, had not had a fight with her.  Her verbal clashes had been legendary. So much filth I had not heard in my entire lifetime. I still cannot believe, until this day that such a soiled creature can smoothly exist, function and even is being supported by others in this society.  But authentic filth attracts its own kind. It is like a huge magnetic system that keeps on expanding by attracting the same flotsam and jetsam of this society. Unambiguous low-life dirt, sick human trash of the evil kind. Matrix Belgium had, unfortunately, gathered a bunch of those. Anissa even did not wipe her ass after a ferm dump with the suitable toilet paper. As a traditional Moroccan, she hang on to local customs. She kept on using her left hand and some cold flowing water. No problem with that. Total respect for other cultures and their specific lifestyle. But, when you use this kind of primitive, yet efficient cleaning procedure, then you have to be sure that your hands are properly rinsed afterwards, as they were smeared by your ass dumplings only minutes ago. Only, she had been too sluggish and slothful, to wash her hands subsequently with genuine soap to eliminate all shitty steins from her rear entrance.  The smell, produced by her grubby left hand resembled the filth that came out of her mouth. (I have to go and vomit, excuse me for a minute………)

 

The action of  checking upon my physical condition by two control doctors (next to my regular doctor) had not been sufficient to get me back at work. It had been a waste of time and energy. Those three professionals had concluded all the same: that I had been suffering a severe mental and emotional setback due to the working conditions and total lack of managerial support  at Matrix Systems. My body had not been able to cope any longer. It had shown severe  signals of total collapse and even death if no action had been taken.

The next morning my doorbell rang, again. Not a doctor this time. It had been the postman, he always rang twice. He had a letter, from Matrix Belgium. For me. I had to sign for. To make sure I had received it. Stupid twit. I signed his paper and collected and could not wait to open the letter.

chapter fifty eight constructive interludium

Chapter fifty eight constructive interludium

 

Before opening that letter, I have to say that I am not only on a destructive mission on these pages. Because all developments had been so sudden, I had no time left to even propose an alternative, which would be ignored as usual anyway by the newbie’s in charge. But as you all could hevbe guessed from my first mail to mr Ron Martin, the only possible solution after the departure of mr Dujounrot, was the installation of Wolfgang Hanssen as his sole successor.

 

Because Wolfgang had climed from practically nowhere the last six years to sales position number two in internationals surroundings,  only outnumbered by mr Dujounrot, who had left, he had been the only one to have the legal rights and moral authority to claim the position of general manager of Matrix Belgium. Just as mr Dujounrot had done all those years, Wolfgang had all possibilities to combine his sales task with the management in the office. I would immediately have strengthened the department “customer care” by promoting myself and Veronique to “senior” customer care representatives, because of the professionalism and profound experience we had accumulated during all those past years of our lives in a customer care environment. I would put at least two full time supportive customer care employees in place, next to Malvine, myself and Veronique. I would send Anissa off as soon as I possibly could have done to avoid further office air and space pollution and I would maintain mr Moipatron as technical support manager, adding a second person to his cell for more comforting working conditions. (so he could get rid of his lying methods) He would loose his ridiculous title of “assistant to the general management”, which had only meant in todays context nothing more then arse licking, but severe backstabbing doggy.

We all would have the same level on the official positioning ranking scheme, so each of us would have the same chances and possibilities at the regular meeting we would organize to discuss opportunities and every day slumber. Only Wolfgang would have more influence and would have the ultimate authority to make definite discisions, after each meeting.

 

Now both sales authority and office supremacy are being separated which certainly will lead to more dysfunction, internal conflicts, disagreements on both sides, regarding the dumb interventions of everlasting Anissa on matters she does not even have one single clue about.

You see? I do can produce some positive, constructive, energetic and practical propositions to make things work at Matrix Belgium, as they should have been working a long time ago.

The incompetence of  Mr Moipatron to maintain himself on this level he had forced himself into will become soon very clear. Wolfgang Hanssen needs to look out for his terrible persistent lying activities to cover up his deficiencies and those of Anissa. He needs to double check every information he gets from the office to avoid customer complaints on wrong issues mr Moipatron has been lying about.  I know by now that Veronique is getting bonkers by the constant false information she keeps getting from mr Moipatron. Because she has integrated her children in this nutty house of total chaos, run by a liar and a smelly woman, she has forced and driven her previous happy family in a negative spiral of constant quarrelling and endless discussions. She is starting to get old. Her eternal youth is slipping through her wrinkled fingers, although she rubs them daily with “Nivea cream”. She has spotted already some elderly stains on her hands, she so detests. She really feels old now, as she is desperately trying to do something about the deteriorating way she had felt those last couple of months, knowing that her upcoming 50 th birthday will not be the grand fiesta she had in mind. Poor Veronique.

It will not be long now,  before this false pretence will come to an end.  A definite full stop.  I would inform your wife, dear, so she can arrange things to get away from her stove. When it is all over, may be mr Moipatron’s brother can give him a job then, somewhere in France, at the counter of his brothers small local Bank filial. With a 15 inch flat screen before his nose. The 17 inch is a reserved privilege for the upper class directors, not for the counter staff….sorry….

The first days after the compulsory departure of mr Dujounrot, the organising few had a feeling of victory amongst them. Not only had mr Dujounrot departed, they also had gotten rid of me, being sick for at least a week and may be longer, considering three doctors already confirming the same state of mind and crummy health I had to be into, after the putsch had taken place.

Veronique felt equally triumphant since she now had gained full control over customer care, not realizing that working together with your own kind of kin, eagerly waiting to fill in the gaps of the departed ones, always leads to deplorable damage and incurable abrasion on the smooth suface of ones soul. After her dramatically broken marriage she now would have the impossible struggle of keeping the rest of her family together, due to endless work related problems with both of her daughters who had never seen their mom react or conduct herself like this in a employment associated environment...

 

 “Mom, is that really you????”

 

They both uttered more than once, totally flabbergasted by the flirting way their mom could get her customers flat on their horny backs. She had been a real master in the adroitness  and acquaintance of flirting.

 

Wolfgang knew that too. His occasional visits to Belgium had always been accompanied by  a pleasant verbal teasing of Veroniques utter limits on the scale of erotism. They both enjoyed playing around with words like this. But now, in front of her daughters, this had been some other piece of cake to deal with. A space cake…

You don’t want to see YOUR mom become horney in front of you, do you? I sure don’t.

Although Veronique felt horrified and totally had been fed up by the consequent lying of mr Moipatron, she knew what he had been up to and wanted a part of the deal, so she kept quiet about it and played along. She paid her price to join the backstabbing survivors.

chapter fifty nine world championship football 2006

Chapter fifty nine : World championship football 2006

 

The French played unexpectedly well, this year. They just had defeated Brazil in the quarterfinals and headed for the semi finals in a couple of days. Mr Moipatron, a true Frenchman, had been a strong admirer and supporter of the French soccer team. Because of their previous weak performances on last European Championship and the former World cup, only four years ago, he totally frustrated, had burned his National flag in his back yard (which had been illegal by the way), totally disappointed about their shameful results.

 

But now, things had been different. The French team had grown systematically and had become better and more efficient by each match they had played. Now they had even defeated world champion Brazil and he had no fucking flag to hang out of his window. Never ever, he would be that impulsive again in his life. Furthermore, it had been Friday night, all shops being closed, he had no alternative than to go and look for some water paint out of the school material his daughter had brought home from school this week.  

 

He took the water paint and went into his bathroom. He locked the bathroom door. After some fifteen minutes he came out again, full frontal nude, but with his bottom coloured. He had coloured his left bottom cheek completely blue and his right cheek totally red. Because of his recently bleached arse, he now had become the rightful and proud owner of the French flag being presented on his “derriere”.

He opened his bedroom window on the first floor of his house and stuck his tricolours self-painted behind out of it. By doing so, he could not suppress the departure of one long, loud fart, leaving for open air. A child, walking outside with her parents, saw the moving flag and started to scream:

 

“A talking flag, a talking flag…..” “Look up there, they have a talking flag, I want one too!!!!.”

“please, Mommy? Can I have one too?”

 

They decided to interrupt their boring evening walk (because it had been too hot in their non air-conditioned apartment) and to ring the doorbell of this remarkable French supportive house, in order to ask where you could buy this kind of National toy….

 

Mr Moipatron opened the door…..A child started to scream again, this time because his assumed flag had gained a wrinkled nose and some hairy nut bags….

 

Ten minutes later, the police arrived. The talking French Flag had gotten arrested. Only after some severe explanation and a fine of several hundreds of Euros, the charges of the passing family were dropped and mr Moipatron could go home, covering his French Flag up with some borrowed pants of a drug addict who had died because of  an OD (overdose) the previous night in the cell of the police station.

 

Still, the French had won, and that had been the only thing that counted.   YESSSSS!!!!!!!

This had been the last time mr Moipatron would drink any “Duvel” during an international football Match where the French team had been involved... Clearly, he had underestimated the intoxicating power of this exquisite Belgian beer. (as he would underestimate anything that is Belgian for that matter....)

I guess his fifth one had been one too many….

chapter sixty official warning

Chapter sixty : warning

 

As I told you on an earlier occasion, the protagonists of this book are trying their utmost to prevent this book from being written in the first place. I am victimized by constant attacks on my home pc and attempts to boycott the proper working of my pc which prevented me from uploading new material to my website because some elementary working tools had been disabled by exterior attacks. This only indicates to me how desperate the protagonists must have been and still are and how frightened they are for the final and ultimate international publication, shortly after the last chapter has been written. To put me under pressure, they use every tool they can get access to, to prevent me from writing these lines. They fail, constantly. After returning from my holiday on the Bahamas, I checked my home website and I found out that in my “guestbook” some truly disgusting remarks had been made with references towards “Viagra”, clearly to discredit my honest intentions and to frighten me from continuing this novel. Surely I have deleted them, what did you think?

 

This, of course is totally unacceptable. That is why I need to warn all those who think they have a right to enter my pc and even intrude my own personal website by entering filthy remarks. Those remarks automatically remind me of those made by Anissa, all those past years of undergoing hatred and pestering abhorrent behavior.

 

When I detect any further intrusion on my PC or on my webpages of my website, I will hunt you down like some lowlife filthy animal.  Be sure of that. I will become your worst nightmare. How? Just go and rent the actual success movie “Hostel”, presented  and supported by Quinton Tarantino and you ‘l get a allusion of what is awaiting you by my personal actions. They will be lethal, but slowly implicated,  so death takes ages and is going to be extremely excruciating.  Get used to that, if you think you still can encroach into my personal pc.

The moment the future sun has set, you can await me standing behind every tree, around every next corner, ready to perform my final deeds of unilateral reconciliation of my mind.

 

Since I know who those trespassers are, the victim is chosen and the crime scene is set; the crime method selected.

Now it is only a matter of time. Do not tempt me. You have no idea what you have awakened inside of me by your soiled mouth and soiled language. Do not force me to use it. You would be quite sorry.

chapter sixty one dictionary

CHAPTER SIXTY ONE / DICTIONARY

 

Now, go and get your English dictionary to look up the difficult words, you moron. (it is still quite unbelievable how the US can trust and work with such unworthy scoundrel creatures like you with a retarded brain capacity of only one fifth of the one president Bush is the proud owner of)  So you can finally understand what has been said in these previous lines without asking the usual every day help of one of your fellow colleagues (especially Gerard)  to help translate this for your benefit to understand.

 

chapter sixty two conflict of interests

CHAPTER SIXTY TWO   CONFLICT OF INTERESTS

 

Before moving on to the chapter of crucial disability of the official governmental organizations, taking care of cases to protect people against harassment and pestering on the job, I first want to inform you about the present situation at the offices of Matrix, since things are getting rough out there.

 

As Gerhard Moipatron had forced mr Dujournot out of his leather managerial seat in his office with oversized desk, on grounds of conflicts of interest  - since he had been banging the sole  heritage of JayBaySay in Italy -   and to impress her, as well as to get even more affluent  as he ad already been, had rearranged   some important Matrix sales towards JayBaySay’s, he and his companion, stupid Anissa Hamsa had been doing the same. They were not really banging, nor fucking, nor sucking some customer, nor supplier, but had been installing close and for all :  badly chosen and not qualified friends on several positions were Tessy used to function. Even in the warehouse, brotherhood of Anissa had gained access again, forgetting all those past hours of quite naps, hidden behind cartons and pallets, her next of kin had enjoyed whilst others did the job. Persistently, wrong transportation had been ordered, trucks that had been too small, too low and too expensive, arrived to pick up the goods. The useless new friends who were set on board had created a bunch of severe problems.

 

The threesome who once took over from mr Dujounrot, now were fighting about every single day, on grounds of unqualified behavior of some new friends on the job and wrong decisions being made by them to let things work.

 

The only decent and properly educated female at the present office, Veronique, had paid a high price for her betrayal. As I had predicted, Anissa could never keep up her new standards she had enforced herself into and her polluted mouth began to utter the same filth and disgusting assaults she had been using for over the past years. But now she used it against “always helping” Gerhard and Veronique. Times had changed. Anissa had not. She had no potential to grow on a job because she lacked the brains.

 

The final beginning of the end had been organized. By themselves.

 

Wolfgang Hanssen could only see it all happening from a distance. One day he would become the rightful chief of this bunch of incompetent losers. Then new decent professional attitude and proud customer orientated behavior would be reinstalled to the benefit of Matrix and Stardor. Now the only beneficiaries were Gerard and Anissa. For just a short while, that is.

 

How do I know all this? I just do. I am standing behind every corner, I look into every window, often left open during weekends because of total lack of responsibility. You will find me behind every possible tree, every ambush on your every day road home.

I am watching every move you make, I hear every fart you let go out of your oversized water rinsed rear endings and but hole surroundings. Have you not seen me yet? Blind as well huh?

 

 Veronique is moving; she is leaving her rented apartment she had such good times with both of her daughters. Now things have changed. Definitely . The frequent quarrels and verbal fights over work issues have definitely hypothecated the relationship with both of her daughters. Veronique is moving towards Mechelen. A new and for all positive future ahead. She even is looking around to find some other employment in Mechelen. Because of the renewed  hostile situation at Matrix. She is also getting fed up with the constant patronizing and insulting behaviour of someone who easily could be her daughter. “Respect” is something that no one ever would be able to find in any dictionary Anissa is using in every day life. The crummy actual oriental transport department, after rejecting Veronique’s daughter,  showed once more that wrong managerial decisions, motivated or inspired by personal gain and profit,  do have far more implications then a lie can cover. Ever.

 

 

an in between chapter

An in between chapter about The one whom I did not speak about until now.

The next lines will be filled shortly about a person i have not spoken yet about, but who is playing a crucial role in this part as he has been my second pair of eyes on the job. unfortunately enough, now he has to travel a lot in his newly acquainted function.

“what a perfect morning to go around and blast some dozen of innocent motherfuckers in the air…”, he thought, whilst getting out of bed, for the last time in his pathetic small little own private history.  He put on his own home made internet checked slim line bomb and tied it firmly around his waist , underneath his large yellow jellabah he had let ironed some extra times for his final act needed some excellent quality cloth.  He knew that most of his victims would be still alive, even for a short while, with shattered arms, legs, feet or heads. The ones with the blown of heads were the instant dead ones. But the rest of those imbecile mother fuckers would slowly but surely bleed to death with pieces of their arms, ruptured legs, crushed knees, split hands or demolished feet missing and laying around the place, leaving an unforgettable impression for the living behind, just as he intended it to be. He could not care less about the brutal bodily damage he would evoke just the next minutes to come. The market place had been filled with thousands of innocent shopping individuals, partly with kids, since it had been mid summer and holiday for all schools.

He drank his mint tea, finished it to the bottom and left for the market where he blew himself up. He instantly killed three people, seven died later on in the hospital. Twenty two could be saved but would spend the rest of their lives with some missing arm or leg.  His family would be embraced by Allah and he would be welcomed by the ever lasting seventy virgins, eagerly awaiting upstairs to suck up his balls to a state of total emptiness.

Could you imagine such event really to be happening? I cannot. Really, I cannot even think a person would be capable of doing such a horrendous deed. Still, it takes place every single day in Muslim surroundings.  By people driven by hatred. Inspired by Allah. They have infiltrated in Western society, if we like to see it or not. We only can be confronted with the facts.  For anything else it would be too late, far too late.

Sven always had a very low profile. He had been an excellent opportunist and worked himself up the ladder of instant success from warehouse employee to assistant product manager. He did not do much. He just had been clever enough to do just exactly that what had been needed to be done to obtain his goal. His intellect made him a lazy kind of guy. His intelligence brought him to the position of assistant product manager. He had been acting as if he had been the guy Gerard would be needing as assistant on his product management. Sven did not speak much. He spoke as much as he actually worked. It had all been very rational and clean. At times where it stormed in the office, Sven had not been around. Wisely, he kept hidden and away from all problems ahead.

 There is not much to say actually about Sven. Only that he keeps me posted about the present situation at Matrix. To me that is enough. So I can go on planning my next steps into finalization of my current project of introspection and mental clearance of all past evil contamination of my soul and spirit. His final and very precise  indications will lead me to execute my ultimate deeds of clarification of all rotten elements that soiled my life.

this is a fiction novel

 

all described in the previous pages is part of a fiction novel and any possible resemblance with an actual and existing situation or real physical persons are merely pure coincidental, non valid and thus not existing.

 Life is often worse than fiction can ever imagine.

patrick gysemberg -----  action painter for a better world