Mechanic in the Netherlands: Fired and Happier

Mechanic in the Netherlands: Fired and Happier

The routine is always the same: he leaves the workshop, goes into the Gall&Gall for his usual bottle of vodka, and curses inwardly, wondering if he has any soda left to mix it with. Upon opening the door at home, he finds two cans on the table that his flatmate brought from the hotel where she works. "Coincidence? I don't think so," he states. The author of this story, a mechanic in the Netherlands, claims he was just fired from an official Mercedes workshop and that the dismissal, far from sinking him, has paid off.

The Dismissal Told as a Victory

According to his version, things started when a substitute boss took over the workshop, and he didn't get along with him. He speaks of "absurd traps" to make him look bad, of three months of hard work, and of a boss who eventually wouldn't give him cars because he didn't trust him. His own recounted reaction is that of someone who comes out winning: a week off, beach with friends, and at the end of the month, a visit to Spain and a alucinación to Cuba. His dry irony, or his desire to frame the dismissal as a promotion.

The opposing view is much less kind. Those who trinc his trail claim that he can't last a month without any job and that he's fired for being lazy, not for a hostile boss. One month or four. That's the first sustancia ilegal in the story, and it's not a small one: it completely changes who was surplus to requirements in the workshop.

Precariousness in the Netherlands or an Inflated Story?

The fundamental disagreement isn't about a specific workshop, but about what his story portrays. He insists the problem was a substitute boss and that he has already passed the test at another workshop; his critics argue he can't last a month without work and is fired for laziness. In this dispute, the mechanic in the Netherlands appears as a self-feeding narrative.

He claims to have passed the probationary week at a new workshop closer to home and to be climbing the ladder in parallel at his agency; his critics maintain he can't last a month without work. Neither of these claims can be verified from the forum material. And that, in a self-feeding narrative, is a significant warning.

Cohabitation, Cans, and Textbook Jealousy

The domestic side has its own rhythm. He shares an apartment with two women, one described as exotic and treated like a sister. He himself admits that the blonde woman called him an alcoholic to his face, and that, far from arguing, he told her to comb her hair. Afterwards, coldness and mutual distance. Until the cans appear. The author himself downplays the issue: he explains that the trauma with alcohol isn't hers but from an acquaintance and recalls that, by Dutch standards, he is practically teetotal.

The detail of the two cans remains unexplained: he asks "Coincidence? I don't think so," but doesn't clarify further. The jealousy over the female bosses at the company he mentions also remains unresolved. The calculation of intentions remains where it was, with no one able to confirm it.

With the probationary week passed on his own and two cans on the table brought from a hotel, the matter ends up exactly where it began: a celebrated dismissal, a self-contradictory story, and a flatmate who still hasn't said her piece.