Our manager, the unpredictable passive-aggressive yet spineless "Miasma" uses texting as her preferred mode of communication - probably because it is most likely to cause misunderstandings, and she can vent without seeing the pain on the face of the person she is inflicting it upon. I do not have a smart phone - I can do texts, but can only have 25 in my inbox at a time, or the inbox will not accept new messages - so, when she is shooting them off a dozen in a minute, I can't keep up.
So, in a few minutes I am getting messages like - Why aren't you responding? when I can't physically do so. At such times I have phoned her, and it goes to voice mail, and she doesn't return my calls. When I text her to say I can't keep up, and would she please call because there seems to be a misunderstanding and perhaps texting is adequate for complex discussions, she will refuse, saying she's said all she has to say.
Her evil minion, the newly hired self-appointed Queen of Cashiers also using texting as a main mode of communication, with backstabbing gossip a close second, which is why they have become such good friends.
I had a conflict with cashier Dislexa involving her sending me - a supervisor - absurdly micromanaging texts on my time off, and that she spends hours of her shifts standing at the register and texting, then waits till closing time to begin to face (to pad her hours), and demand that we both stay behind - I told her she should have been facing earlier instead of texting - and set off a firestorm, which I wrote about a few days ago.
Miasma sent me a barrage of texts that evening regarding her darling Dislexa, and it was extremely difficult to deal with any of them because of my inbox issue, but she was still texting me at 11:45pm asking me why I had not responded to her texts, and I said it was too complicated for me to do via text, and I would respond asap in another mode of communication.
That night - my elderly dog started to get ill - crying out in pain. Mind you, I lost another one of my elderly dogs to cancer just 6 days ago and am still grieving her. We had a frightening, sleepless night together.
I was not supervisor on Christmas Eve, therefore it was not my duty to send out the final financial reports, and I went home when the store closed. Arriving home, my dog did not greet me, and when I went to investigate, he was lying on the bed and crying. I rushed to examine him and offer him comfort and offer him another pain med. Ding! Ding! Ding!
Miasma was texting me. "What was the total? /HELLLO?/LOL/ ARE YOU THERE! /YOU FORGOT TO SEND ME THE TOTA/LOL." I texted back that I didn't know I was supposed to, and she texted back, "YOU KNOW B**** can't text me! So you should have!" I said I didn't have the number in my head, sorry. She texted back she was angry, and I texted back that I couldn't help her with this, and that my dog was very sick and I (and I was running out of characters plus my hands were shaking) needed some rest.
So that was my Christmas Eve, after handing her the biggest Christmas week sales in stores history while she sat her on fat ass with her family and enjoyed the holiday.
(Polo-Neck Strip Mall Monkey is crying) Pain meds have helped my dog, thank God, and got us through fucking Christmas. A massive storm is about to hit, his usual vet is away, and I am scrambling trying to find a vet who will see him - and clinics are closing due to weather emergency - but I got an appt for Friday, my day off - and in all likelihood, I will be saying goodbye to my best friend.
So, today, Day AFTER Fucking CHristmas - she calls me to tell me she is running late. No problem. Then she texts to say she will be in at 10:30 because she has a headache. PARTY ON GIRL! She finally showed up at 11:30, and I'd had a very busy morning running the store on my own as people rushed in to get supplies before the massive storm. She didn't say hello, doesn't speak to me, and was storming around, growling, "The store is a DISASTER!" The Main Office phone, asked me if she was doing her order. I paged her to come to the phone. She told the Main Office that she didn't complete the order because her employees left the store in a total mess, and she was too busy fixing it to do the order, and that they could thank her lazy employees. She left out the part that she was 3 hours late and hungover as a motherfucker.
I just stayed out of her way.
At one point she overheard me telling one of our nice customers that I have to put my dog to sleep Friday. Didn't change her mood, and she thrashed around for another 2 hours, and I stayed out of her way as best as I could. Her Evil Minion Dislexa arrived for her shift.
Miasma finally angrily confronted me and said, what the hell is going on? What's with the attitude? You haven't spoken to me. I said, well, actually, I thought you were the one who was not speaking to me and were angry at me, because you are acting very upset today, and since you said you weren't feeling well, I thought it best to give you space.
She said, "well, I'm sorry to hear about your dog, but that is totally irrelevant to the real matter at hand. The main thing is the disrespect you showed me in your text telling me about your dog. It was abrupt and insulting."
I said I had already told her that my phone cannot process the numbers of texts she sends me, and that one of the reasons I do not like to have complex exchanges via text is because misunderstandings arise very easily.
I said I had to give my dog priority, and intended to deal with misunderstandings later. She said, "I don't understand what your dog has to do with this at all. Imagine how hurt I feel by your disrespect."
I said that was unintentional - that texts do not always effectively communicate. which is why I don't like them except for very short, simple messages.
Hours later, she offered to let me go home early because the store was dead. Yeah, bitch - the big rush happened before the storm hit when you were at home puking up your fucking eggnog, leaving me to handle it by myself. I bet that's as close to a fucking apology as I can hope for.
What a fucking douchebag.
The supervisor who closed Christmas Eve is coming in later, and no doubt she will ream him for leaving the store in a disastrous state on Christmas Eve (It was not) and blame us for her not getting her order done - and I know she will leave out the part about showing up 3 hours late, hung over as a mother fucker.
--Polo-Necked Strip Mall Monkey