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Tours de Farce: Strike This!
And don’t think the decision was easy. After all, we were sooo close to agreeing on a new contract. But management refused to recognize certain unalienable rights that the Pollstar.com workforce assumes to be self-evident. Therefore we’re organizing labor, rounding up the picketers and painting the signs. Lessee… Do you spell UNFAIR with one N or two?
Now don’t get us wrong. It’s not because of you. You folks have been great. You’re always greeting us each day with a hardy hello. You’re always thanking us whenever we post new dates for Sting or Norah Jones, and you rarely, if ever, curse at us using words we have to look up in the dictionary. You guys are the tops.
But management has yet to adopt to the changing job climate of the 21st century. Sure, they’ve met some of our demands, like promising to keep the Guinness machines running 24/7, and making sure the Pollstar.com in-house pharmacy stays open seven days a week. But pumping out date, city and venue for MercyMe, Curtis Salgado and Tony Bennett requires more than just perfectly poured draughts or quick Prozac refills. We have needs. We have wants. We have signs! Hmmm… Is BITE ME spelled with two T’s or three?
Hard to believe, isn’t it? That during the 83-plus years this company has served up fresh tour data on the Internet, that we’ve never, ever used our collective bargaining power to bring about righteous change for the Pollstar.com workforce. That we’ve offered up-to-date schedules for Lee Rocker and Mudhoney with nary a discouraging word with management as to whether or not the employee pool is properly heated, or if there are enough olives for our four-martini lunches. However, we’ve taken management at its word long enough, and it’s time for a new contract. Lessee… How many K’s are there in DIE POND SKUM?
So we’re going on strike. We’re demanding a bigger slice of the pie and a bigger piece of the cake. We’re demanding more health in our health care, more benefits in our packages and at least two-ply in our toilet paper. We’ve drawn that line. We’re going toe-to-toe with management until they blink. Mark our words, we will not be defeated. We will not back down we will not acqu… acquie… acquies… We will not back down. Come midnight tonight we will go on strike!
Of course, this means we’re going to have to skip at least one Guinness break in order to wrap up this strike thing before management comes back tomorrow. Oh, well, sending a message is never easy.