Unfinished Project [Part Two] Getting There.

i had a big row with my boss today, without boring you with all the details i was basically disputing bonus payments to the white collar and clerical staff who sit in our work's main office, drinking coffee, talking about last night's tv and updating their 'facebook' pages, i had an e-mail from our head office informing me that my team and i were to receive a £250 bonus payment, hurrah! only to have it withdrawn thirty minutes later and explained away as 'an administration error'  so, we were not going to receive the bonus after all, boo-hiss, what made it worse was that the office were to be able to keep their share of the hard-earned bonus, nice, so, you can assume the atmosphere was rather bereft of the usual light hearted banter between the two camps and instead replaced with scowl's and the english archers from the shop floor and smirks and flashes of their wallets from the office wankers in return, after a rather heated 'discussion' with the govenor he just refused to listen to my thought's on the unfair, unjust and devisive bonus payment and said i should 'grow up', grow up?, as i walked the dogs in the steady drizzle i got to thinking about the term 'grow-up', my boss is only interested in making money, gross profit and monthly sales charts are plastered on his office wall, he studies the markets and hunts down sales leads, profit is his church, he doesn't care who he treads on or put's down to achieve his aim, 'greed is good' to quote the micheal douglas character in 'wall street', my boss's idea of fun is a round of golf on a regional sales day, rubbing shoulders with grey men in grey farrah slacks wearing grey pringle sweaters, he holidays in scarborough or tenby, towing the family caravan behind his grey ford mondeo, 'got to watch the penny's' he tells us on a regular basis, the bloke's that tight sometimes i reckon he only breathes in, 'grow up' where does that leave me then?, he doesn't know what the buzz of a tattoo gun feels like, or following his local football team, what it's like to win a big title in a karate competition or race a motorbike, he doesn't know about emerging from an all-nighter into the cold spring air and stealing a bottle of milk from a milk float, or dancing to rave tunes with hells angels by the faded glory of the kent seaside, he doesn't know what it's like to drive down the strip in vegas, walk over the hoover dam or stand on the golden gate bridge in san francisco with his family, he hasn't hit a bush with a stick in death valley and been chased by spiders, spent two day's underground in the largest cave system in britain, he hasn't been on the biggest, fastest rollercoaster in the world, arms up in the air, he hasn't taken his son on a boozy, riotous scooter rally and let him build bonfires out of old pallets, taken his daughter to her first punk gig or know the feeling when a perfectly aimed snowball hit's a workmate clean on the bonce, he hasn't fell off a skateboard and ended up with skinned knees, elbows and chin showing the kid's 'how it's done' he wouldn't appreciate the smut and blasphemy, the fart's, the belly laughs, tears streaming down your face, holding onto your insides to stop them dropping out through fear on the startline, the tears and the beers, the pain, the joy, friendship and good times, maybe he's right and i should 'grow up' naah, fuck that, i'll leave that for the grown-up's.......