Quite a story came a little late

this year on a cool night in Winooski, VT. Out at McKee's Pub I met the supposed son of the Mayor this two-bit shat zone of a town claims to have. He was drunk, clearly, and his name begins with an 'M' and rhymes with that sticky shit you get on your hands from climbing too many trees.

"I know you from somewhere.." the glass-eyed monkey winked.
"I worked at the water department. You worked for streets," I replied sharply with my index finger extended.
"Oh yeah, they loved you... I got switched over to that apartment."
"Apartment?"
"Department. You know?"
I didn't know.
"How did you ever stand Leo? He is such an asshole."
"You just gotta be an asshole right back. He likes it I think."
"Oh shit!" The bastard balked, "You'll never guess the shit I pulled when I left there..."
This is where I started to listen.
"You remember that black guy C-something? What's his face."
I remembered.
"That motherfucker told them [management] that I was smokin' weed on the job and got me fired. He rat'ed me out! But he had no proof! You can't fire someone just like that without proof. Don't you see?"
As a matter of fact I did see. It didn't matter whether or not this kid was actually on the job getting high (which he was). For all management knew (which they didn't), that never happened. And what you know doesn't really matter because as Denzel Washington says in Training Day, "It's not what you know. It's what you can prove." Management simply went on the blind recognition that one person's word was greater than another's.

"So you wanna know what I did to them.."
For their supposed injustice? I actually did know, which made me a little more curious to hear his side of the story.
"I fuckin' went down to HR; told them I was being sexually harassed and shit.. Hook, line, and sink bitch! I got Danny fired from his position as Superintendent of the street department"
"Your mad," I exclaimed. "How could you even get away with that?"
"Well you know how they are.. always cracking jokes and shit."
He had a point there. Some of those guys (Danny being one of them) could be giant-sized turding assholes when they wanted to be. I remember riding bitch in the truck on our way back to the shop at the end of the day one time when I worked for streets. The guy on my right, asked the guy on my left, if they should ask me to go 'skiing'. They proceeded to then both ask me directly if I wanted to go 'skiing'. I respectfully declined. Then for a while they were calling me 'Velma.' I had heard that this was because when they met my roommate one time, it was said that he looked like Shaggy from Scooby Doo. How that made me 'Velma,' I'll never know...
"All I did was tell them [HR] a few things they actually said to me (albiet, jokingly...) and all Steve Goodkind could do was ask 'How is this fucking possible that summer help could even do this'. They never saw it coming, for real. I threatened to sue those bastards! But I had no real plan to of course..."
Of course.
"I really caught them with their dicks out. Those bastards. It's funny though... A lot of people didn't like the job Danny was doing anyway, so only about half of them down there hate me."
Ironic. What bearing on the moral compass is this person heading?
"Alright man, good story, but I'm out. Take care of yourself," I said with a pat on the shoulder.
"Hey good seein' ya. Don't tell anybody about this."