I was working a part of the store that I hadn't worked in a while, folding down some t-shirt tables, when I heard a voice from my past and cringed. You know how when you haven't seen a coworker for a while you hope against hope that they might have left? No such luck.
I heard her at the register, talking to a customer who had brought in a paid-for garment that still had the sensor tag on it. “Oh, that wasn't us, not us regulars.
That was the Christmas people, the holiday temp help! They're just not as careful, you know.” The custy hadn't asked who had done it. She just wanted that tag off. This dumb bitch just wanted to assign blame, and of course she was innocent of the whole thing. She's never left a tag on something.
Grinding my teeth against turning and yelling at her, I instead took a trip backward into the hell of knowing and working with this woman.
Let's call her Posey... because she's nosy as all get-out. We worked in different departments, but friends that worked with her reported Posey as being a nightmare. She stole customers. She took credit for things that were not her idea. If she didn't like you, she tried to get you fired. Seriously. When she tried to get one of my friends fired, and was told that as a vendor rep, the store could not fire him, she found out my friend's boss' information, and tried to get him fired that way.
Complaints to the managers fell on deaf ears because her numbers were good.
Besides being obnoxious, Posey had another problem: she was not entirely mentally stable. Every now and again, she would have a breakdown, and have to take extended leave. Her coworkers would get a break from her, but only for a few months. Because of FMLA, her job was protected, and she would show up again, much to our chagrin. Job protection is awesome, but you would think that maybe she would recognize that retail jobs are stressful, and probably a trigger for her episodes.
Now, Posey comes off as perfectly lovely to the customers. So when she would try to pimp out a coworker, they thought she was just being sweet. Posey had a coworker we'll call Gamer Guy. Gamer Guy was pushing 30, and while nice, was shy with girls.
Posey would lean over GG's shoulder and talk to his customers. “Isn't he nice? It's a shame he doesn't have a girlfriend. His family pushes so hard for him to get one, but he's shy.” Meanwhile, GG would be silently fuming, trying to ignore Posey and provide good service to his custys.
One night after work, Posey approached me and a friend in the parking lot and she asked my friend if she wouldn't mind going out with GG. My friend declined, being in a relationship, and Posey left looking disappointed. My friend and I laughed at her oddball behavior later, while feeling bad for GG.
Fast forward a few years. Gamer Guy had developed a crush on me, and despite my strict rule against office romances, I agreed to see him. We were fairly certain that at least Posey would stop butting in once he was seeing someone. How naïve we were! Posey approached me while I was working on the other side of the store, and after I had finished ringing up a customer, she told me that Gamer Guy needed to see me right away. She made it sound urgent, so I hurried over to his department.
He seemed confused as to why I was there. When I explained that Posey had said he needed to see me, his expression went from puzzled, to suspicious, to angry.
Apparently, in an attempt to form a comraderie with a customer, GG had tossed out a “Yeah, my girlfriend drives me nuts, too.” Posey had taken this to mean that our relationship was in trouble, and that we needed to talk things out, there on the sales floor in the middle of a shift. GG and I were both livid at her audacity, and I mentioned the parking lot incident to him. He looked like he was ready to hit someone. I told him to go to his manager, to go to HR. But he was embarrassed that this woman had invested so much time and energy into his love life that she would pimp him out like that, and meddle in his relationships. He didn't want anyone else knowing about it.
So Posey continues to work in my store, occassionally breaking down, trying to get people fired, and irritaing the hell out of her coworkers, her wrists unslapped.
All of which means I have to express my hatred of her through the nasty looks I give her when our paths cross.
May none of your coworkers be deranged Cupids.