Today, my wonderful coworker (Mama Bear) said this to me, “Some people need to wear helmets so they don’t make a habit of licking windows.” And right now, that’s exactly how I fucking feel about my manager.
When I was hired, I told my manager that I couldn’t work weekends, not because I just don’t want to, but because I live out of town and I have NO WAY of getting to work. When I’m at my boyfriend’s, I can use his car or he’ll drive me, but if I’m at home, I don’t have access to a car. My parents are crazy busy on weekends and can’t take time to drive me into town to work. That’s the simple truth. I don’t have a fucking way to get to work on weekends.
Well, I went into work on Wednesday and went over to check my schedule and, lucky me, I see that I have to work the next 3 Saturdays. Immediately, I’m crazy fucking mad. Lately, my manager has been getting really lazy. She just doesn’t give a fuck anymore. She spends more time smoking outside than helping anyone, even if we have to physically go outside and tell her to get her fucking ass inside, she doesn’t care.
I told her that I couldn’t work all of these Saturday shifts because I would literally have to walk to work, which is 16km (Or about 10 miles) and she just said “That sucks, looks like you’re going to have to find a ride. Cool, I guess I’ll just fucking leave my house at midnight if I have to be at work for 8 AM, you fucking thunder-asshole. Then she proceeded to tell me that I’m going to have to work every Saturday from now on. And did I mention that my only day off EVERY WEEK is Sunday? I get one fucking day off every week.
But let’s fast forward from Wednesday to last night (Friday) when I went into work at 1 PM. I found out that my two managers, who were supposed to work 7-3 left at 11AM. Why? BECAUSE THEY WERE FUCKING DRUNK. Really fucking professional. But fucking Moses forbid that any of us are bleeding from the eyes and have a rabid raccoon stuck to our genitals, we still wouldn’t be able to leave early.
Seriously, if I have to walk 10 miles and work 6 days a week, I should be able to bring a cooler filled with beer to work and fucking drink my ass off. Plus, next week, I would have had to work Noon-8PM on Friday then come back and work 5AM to 2PM on Saturday! THAT’S AWESOME. WHO NEEDS SLEEP? Luckily, Mama Bear actually ripped my manager apart and demanded that we switch shifts, so now I only have to work 8-2PM.
And here’s another pleasant little pile of fucking shit. I’m getting my wisdom teeth out in July and the oral surgeon gave me a note saying that I’ll need a week off because my two bottom ones are on the nerve and they have to do something crazy with it, I don’t know. I was tired and not paying attention, not going to lie there. But my manager told me that I’m going to have to come in that weekend.
Uhm. How about fuck no, you fucking cocknose? I am NOT working while on percocets. I don’t care if she writes me up, but I have a note saying that I CANNOT FUNCTION. Better yet, I should go in and break everything.
Pain in my fucking ass.
However, here’s a story to warm your little fucking hearts.
I went to Tim Horton’s this morning (This being my 6th day and I didn’t sleep because I was too busy trying to do laundry and everything else) my feet hurt, I was bummed out and I looked like shit. I ordered my large double-double from an adorable girl, who I’d say was a little younger than myself. I left a $1 tip in their jar and stood to the side to wait for my delicious, life-saving liquid. When the girl brought my cup over, she said “You looked like you needed a smile. I hope you have a good day, hon!”
And this was left on my cup. It pretty much made my entire day. Thanks, adorable girl!