Another body shop I worked at, in Berkeley, was no bargain. The owner and his cousin were from a gang (some said on the run from) in NYC. Turns out their coke-selling business was run from the office. The owner had no regard for anything decent. His two brothers were worse. The cousin would routinely put dish soap in the coffeepot to give people the "runs", when he was angry with the owner.
They would borrow employee's cars, have duplicate keys made, and then later steal their cars. They had 2 dobermans that would guard the shop that were very psycho and had to be avoided.
I was fired once for not taking crap from another painter, but re-hired again for a bit when I was going to college.
Some years later I learned that the two brothers had gotten killed in car accidents or something. Some 20 years later I was doing a software contract in a building across the street, and one day went and stood at the entrance of the old body shop (now an auto glass shop), peered in and pondered life's twists and turns.
