Nobody cares what you're wearing, you're not going on a date.
I come up from 'Bama out of 110 degree southern fry heat into Williamsport Maryland.
DM Bowman had a yard there. In that yard was a little brick office building. 60 degrees raging air conditioning with frost forming on parts of the place due to high humidity and 85 degree heat typical of that area. So for me its coming out of oven heat of the south into a form of steam heat which was really good for the muscles.
Anyway.
There I am standing inside that ******* office with 30 Suits dressed to the max. Ties, vests, over coats and stand up shirts and squeaky leather shoes. Over stuffed geese the lot looked like bending over the computers.
I walk in there with cut off and t shirt and working boots. Gloves with fuel oil on them and so on. Unshaven and all that mess. Starving too. But the truck and trailer is fed, watered and ready for battle and I was putting together a dinner menu mentally.
This little junior dispatcher stood on my boots in my face telling me how I violated the dress code of the company. I should be written up, referred for counseling and branded into my perma record that I was not properly fitted for the work. His suit buttons on the three layers from coat, to vest to pants and shirt was straining. His pits were getting wet.
That 10 minute verbal abuse set in stone the outlook for the rest of my wasteful life against people who enforce crappy codes just because they can. As a blessing I was not to be there very long. I learned to quit that crazy outfit. Life is too short to be putting up with that company crap. Its bad enough out there with a 55 mph 18 wheeler on computer controls. Such mountains of BS.
I should have taken the steel toe required boots off and wore flip flops if I knew what would REALLY TRIGGER them kens in there.
//RANT.