The Pros And Cons Of Hiring Polish

I love the Polish and have had many good friends over the years who are Polish. This is not a stab against them, their nation or their culture. I could easily write about the pros and cons of hiring the Irish or Italians, but we must be honest and admit every culture has its ups and downs. I’ve lived, worked alongside and partied with the Polish for years and have even been trained by them. I know them for years so in this post I’m only going to give a very small 2 cents on why you would hire them and how doing so can be costly for the image and future of the company.

People who emigrate from another country and hop to one with a thriving economy are already a potential danger to any employer out there. Why? Because already they’ve displayed signs that no matter the country they’re from, they’re go-getters and hungry for success. In my opinion, while ambition is not a bad trait to have, this renders such individuals less trustworthy.

I lived in Scotland where I found myself homeless for a while. I showed up for a job at a restaurant where a friend of mine worked asking him to get me in. He was one of two managers and he said to me that he could get me in but was not sure how long I’d last. I asked why? He said we have this Polish girl Susanna who the elderly owner called Ronnie loved. He also said you might not be here long as the owner is up to his eyeballs in debt and close to closing down anyway.

He explained that he was the only Scotsman working among them as they were all Polish with the exception of the chef who was also Scottish. The reason for this he said is because Susanna goes to Ronnie and complains about the workers telling him lies that they’re lazy or not pulling their weight. The result is that these people get fired and are immediately replaced with Polish workers. She was running a little Polish empire and he said this is very common among the Polish. They come, get into management, fire the great majority of workers or if they need a Polish friend to get hired they’ll look for reasons to fire an existing English speaking one.

Another reason why the owner had no problem with this is that the Polish are extremely hard working and generally will work for peanuts if they have to. But the catch is you’ve got all these untrustworthy Polish working for you who stab you in the back at a moment’s notice. The American Jewish are the same. Then you get a high staff turnover because Polish management even with their own tends to crack the whip too hard.

The general public taking note of the high staff turnover and a company heavily guarded by the Polish working mafia will avoid working for you if they can help it.

I took the job anyway. I needed a place to stay as the job came with lodgings upstairs. My room had a bedframe in it and I think this is because the owner knew my uncle. I went next door and the polish had all been sleeping on mattresses laid out on the floor with windows broken in. The owner treated them like the scum of the earth except for little chubby Susanna who had her own place to stay and was milking old school Ronnie for all he was worth.

After a while, I had to move in with the Polish. We did have great fun I must admit and I learned a great deal about them but all they cared about was the bottom line. Some employers like that but as I said earlier it comes with too many cons.

Well, it didn’t take long but Ronnie wasn’t paying me. Month after month went by and no Paycheck. The English Chef made me dinners and I got fed and watered but no money. The owner began complaining when he saw the size of the dinners I had, and that’s when I nearly lost my rag with him. But because I needed a bed and was getting 5-star dinners I kept my mouth shut.

The Manager and friend came to me and said, “Sorry Stephen but it’s happening again. We had a manager meeting with Ronnie and you were brought up by Susanna as being lazy. She does it all the time. We’ve had Australians, Americans, English and local Scots here and she’s done the same to all of them. I know you’re working as I’m the one on all your shifts, not her. I fought your corner but things are looking bad.”

I explained I’m not getting paid anyway, so stuffed some black bags and headed for the front door. I hitchhiked to a nearby village. I was Irish and disliked by the local protestant community so the only hotel available to me turned me away. I fought my case a little and so he allowed me to stay in a shed normally used for the summer months. It was the best I could get so I threw all my clothes on, heated the room kettle and kept warm for the night.

I don’t have the same panic most people do when they’re in that situation. I’m the type who accepts the hand he is dealt and then plays it. Life deals you different hands all the time, some are good and others bad but no matter how bad the hand you still gotta play the game or leave the table altogether.

A few years later I meet my wife and she takes me to this self-storage unit in Jersey City to meet the manager there. I walk in and there’s Polish everywhere. The Manager comes over. She’s overweight and not the most attractive in the world. She gives me a doughnut and I began to eat. Then I learn she’s Polish and her name? SUSANNA!!!. I immediately lost my appetite.

I turn to my wife and I’m like, “You want me to work here? Oh no…” Then I meet her Dad and he has the exact same look and old-school mannerisms as dodgy Ronnie who is so frugal he probably still has his Holy Communion money (assuming Ronnie was Catholic).

From that day forward I’ve never liked that man. You know when you meet someone and you simply can’t like them? You know that they could give you the moon and stars and that unless some miracle occurred where they were converted and healed you’d still never ever like them? Well. . .

Through the brother, I learned that this lady also had a little Polish empire going on. All I could see from that day forward were big RED FLAGS. And so I knew that staying in America would never work so I flew home intending never to return, I was going to go to the south of France and enter a monastery. I really don’t like that country anyway it’s full of trannies, drugs, crime and major poverty. The roads are disgusting to drive on and their shopping malls are falling apart and were built in the late 60s and miraculously still standing. Very poor looking for a country claiming to be wealthy, but then again most protestant countries are stingy like this.

Then my wife surprised me and said she’d come to Ireland, marry me there and see what came of it. But from the days of Scotland, I vowed NEVER AGAIN to work for the Poles or even alongside them. From an entirely business point of view, they simply can’t be trusted and all I ever hear down through the years from others are bad stories. I have friends who are Polish but when they want to do business with me they’re no longer my friend and I won’t even do business with them I don’t care what they’re offering.

When I worked in the door to door sales I’d say to my colleagues “Don’t wrap the doors on that side of the street as it’s full of Polish and Lithuanians. You will only be wasting your time and they won’t buy anything from you.” They ignored my advice and wasted many hours arguing with some of them. I know my stuff, you know? No flys on me when it comes to cultural attitudes.

I am the same with most eastern Europeans but also with those closer to homes like Americans, Scots and Scandinavian types. I won’t do business with these either. First I find out if they’re religious and if they are then I might consider it. Then again even the religious have their blemishes as some can’t colour their sale pitch at the door in a few lies to get the sale across the line and they don’t deal well with confrontational people. It’s very difficult to find any balance in this world, right? Everyone has their place.

Right now I avoid sales Jobs because they’re full of Psychopaths who literally hate humanity and only care about the bottom line. Working with people like that I’m good at putting on a face and playing pretend but it doesn’t last for long. I’ve left that industry and I’m now getting my degree in Psychiatric Nursing as I’m already a carer for my wife and through reading have acquired a good knowledge of the industry.

The reason for this is because I love a good career without having to be someone else for a day where I can work on my feet for 12 hours, and come home feeling like I’ve done a good day’s work.

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