The Story of a “Hands Down” Pimp

I hear men bitch about their various medical problems and the impact of how it keeps them from their goals. I love a heart-warming story that makes you all feel that damn stupid. It was the story of the “hands down” pimp.


The “hands down” pimp (HDP) was a former co-worker of mine. He was beyond the scale of what I call a man. This motherf*cker didn’t have the ability to give a shit for a long time. It was almost a superpower that we all could learn.


I saw this guy operate every machine on our line with relative ease. He handled the heaviest of compressor bodies. He was able to quite a few things without having to flag down a setup man. He always seemed to have a pleasant demeanor and was always good for polite greetings. He might have sported a bit of gray hair and wrinkles but he never treated me for the ignorant young man I was. He cleaned up his area better than many of us ever did. I would say that he was a great co-worker.


One of the plant supervisors that I knew remembered him well. They had mentioned how he had started as a shovel man cleaning out hoppers. (One of the most mind numbing jobs I can remember). The vast majority men didn’t want to do this job. It was shitty and I have seen a few people stop working there in a middle of their shift. Not HDP. He did the job and fucking smiled about it.


I moved on from my operator job after two years and change. It wasn’t easy but it was a learning experience. The plant closed down and HDP most likely found a decent position somewhere else.


HDP never required a hand out. He was pure balls. He wouldn’t accept one and he wouldn’t give one out. For you see, HDP didn’t have hands. Yes, no hands at all. Stumps. This mother*cker was “hands down” a bigger man than you on your shittiest of days.



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