I'll just be brutally honest: I loathe working when Big A is off. I loathe it. He's not the most intelligent of people, frankly, but he's a hell of a lot smarter than most of the department managers, which isn't saying much considering that I'm entirely sure one of the requirements for becoming a member of management is complete and utter incompetence. Plus he gets a bit of a pass because he's still fairly new, but I digress.
The point is that I like working with Big A. And when he's off, we get stuck with Luis the Fucktastic Wonder. Oh my god, he's a fucking idiot. Fucktastic is the department head for produce, which is on the other end of the store and pretty much removed from garden operations. So he has absolutely no idea what's going on to begin with.
Monday night, I closed the garden. Granted, I wasn't scheduled to be alone, but Fucktastic sent the other two girls over to pull back to school and set up autumnals. So it was just me and D in the department. I was on register, D was watching the gate, since company policy is that we are supposed to have a people greeter on every entrance to watch for shoplifters. D isn't a people greeter, but management only schedules a couple of them in the evenings and garden doesn't seem to be on the list of priorities for one.
Now, I got in at 4 pm, and at 5 D needed to go on break, since he'd been there four hours with no break yet. Since he was on the door, I paged management to call the department so I could get someone to cover for D's break. Fucktastic called me, and this conversation ensued:
Fucktastic: We don't have enough door greeters in tonight.
Bitch Goddess: I know that, it's why D took over the door when Becca left, but he needs to go on break and I'm the only other person back here.
Fucktastic: Well, go ahead and send him on break.
Bitch Goddess: I still need someone to cover the door, can you send someone over from another department?
Fucktastic: Can't you handle it? It's only fifteen minutes.
What I wanted to say was, “No, you dumb fuck, I can't handle it alone. I haven't been able to do any of the ninety thousand other things I need to get done because store policy requires me to be chained to the register before 7 pm. Now you want me to watch for shoplifters, despite the fact that I can't fucking do shit about them anyway because I'm an hourly associate, and asset protection doesn't seem to give a shit about responding to calls?”
Unfortunately, because I need this stupid job, I swallowed my pride and said, “Yes, Fucktastic, I suppose I can.”
Fast-forward to a bit before 7, D has just gone to lunch, and I was milling around waiting to close the register so I can go on my fifteen and shovel some food down before I finally get to do the rest of the work I need to do. Awesome T came over at quarter til to tell me to close down early and go on break while he locked the gate for us (only management can lock the gate and they usually make us keep it open for an hour after we shut down the register) and then do what I need to do.
After my break, I put stock away and started on the watering around 7:30. Now, watering takes an hour or so with two people, and I was on my own, so I just wanted to focus on getting it done before my shift ended at 8:30. At a quarter to 8, I was finishing up the first half of the job when Fucktastic came out and started asking me where my coworkers were. D was about to leave, CG and Lady A were in back to school, and Skinny M wasn't on the garden schedule that night, he was cashiering. So I told him I was alone. He told the front manager over the walkie that I was watering and walked away, only to come back ten minutes later to tell me that they REALLY needed me up front for the last half hour of my shift:
Bitch Goddess: I really need to finish watering, the notes from our plant guy say that he's not sure that our closers have been doing it lately.
Bitch Goddess: Can you at least send CG or Lady A over to finish, since they're both here until ten?
Fucktastic: Lady A is on the front end right now too, and I need her back in school stuff when she's done, but I'll tell CG to get it done when she gets a chance.
Bitch Goddess: … Okay, fine. I'm going.
I just didn't feel like arguing with him any longer; I wasn't making any headway and he is dumb as a bag of rocks anyway. So I spent the last half hour of my shift on register.
The kicker? They didn't even actually need me, it wasn't busy, and I spent most of that thirty minutes standing there contemplating how long it would take the cops to figure it out if I were to smash Fucktastic's head in with a shovel.
Then I left Big A a note begging him not to subject me to Fucktastic's special brand of dumb fuckery and left for my two days off.
--Bitch Goddess of the Gardens
To begin with, I bring cookies to work. Per company policy, I cannot share them with custies, but am able to share them with employees. This has made me one of the more popular individuals due to blatant bribery!
Normally, I get a single bucket of cookies, and they last a whole week. A week ago, I change up the flavor of cookies, to keep things interesting, and appease as many constituencies as possible. (The venom between oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip is amazing.) This last week, I brought in white chocolate chip with pistachio cookies, double batch, expecting a rush. They lasted two days.
People noticed right away the the amount was limited, and while most people limited their cookies, a handful instead sent nuts.
How it broke down was that about half kept their same cookie habits, about a quarter cut back to share with more people, and a quarter increased their cookie intake on seeing. What happened is the greedier ones went and took three to four times as many cookies.
And that is the tragedy of the commons, in cookie format.
I had a coworker who left a while back, who we couldn’t stand.
I swore to Shift Leader 1 I wouldn’t speak this woman’s name anymore, so how about we call her Mrs. Mertz? Anyone ever watch ‘I Love Lucy’?
She worked at the store once before and was a damn awful kiss-ass, and got away with anything she wanted. She ended up quitting, and about a year ago, re-applied. Shift Leader 1 told IncompetentFuck Manager to not rehire her, but he did anyway. Even my current Manager (Then the Assistant Manager) to not re-hire this woman, but he did anyway. Like the Incompetent Fuck he was.
Mrs. Mertz is black, and she LOVED to play the race card. I could have said ‘Hey, Mrs. Mertz, I just finished REPAVING THE PARKING LOT and FIXED THE ROOF. I’m off to make water to mop, will you see if the napkin dispenser sitting right next to you needs to be refilled, so I can do that real quick?’ and her response would be "You’re just asking me to do that because I’m black! You’re racist!"
She tried to get me fired. She seemed to think her word was all that was needed. She could snap her fingers and she expected you to do it. Never mind that in the chain of command on my shift I’m third in line. I’m right under the Shift Leaders. No power, but god forbid something happens to either of them, I’m in control. Meaning she was under me.
I was filling the hot chocolate machine, and had to use a large knife to open the bags. She called me over to help her because OMG THERE WERE TWO CUSTOMERS THERE AND IT WAS TOO FUCKING MUCH! …really? I ran over to help her and just wanted away from her, so I told Shift Leader 1 and IncompetentFuck Manager I was going to sweep the parking lot. Came back in about ten minutes later and Mrs. Mertz was in my face.
Mrs. Mertz: YOU LEFT A KNIFE OVER THERE!
Terah: Huh? Oh! Crap. Sorry, your ‘huge line’ caught me off guard.
Mrs. Mertz: DON’T YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THAT IS?!
Terah: Uh… yeah. I do. I forgot it, I don’t do that often. Thanks for getting it for me.
Not good enough, it seems. She stormed into the back and came back up a little bit later. I went to get cigarettes, and was stopped by Shift Leader 1 and IncompetentFuck. They asked me if I left a knife on the counter. I said yes. They asked why. I explained about the ‘huge line’, said I was sorry, I would try to not do it again. That was it.
I went back up, and Mrs. Mertz had this smile like she was watching Scott Peterson getting stabbed in the testicles with a rusted garden rake.
Mrs. Mertz.: So. What’d they say about that knife?
Terah: …’no. Bad Terah. Bad, bad. Don’t do that again.’ *Smack on my own wrist*.
She stormed off again and I could hear her yelling at them through the door! She said I should be FIRED for it. Just on and on, I had customers asking what the hell was going on. She never came back up that night, she was told to clock out and leave.
She was fired a few months later, for insubordination.
There was one moron I used to work with who would inconveniently call her boyfriend during a busy dinner just to chat!
The first few times, I had to pick up her tables, but I quickly realized it wasn't fair when she was keeping the tips. So I eventually stopped helping out, and just let her get into trouble.
She had been there over a year and still didn't remember any of the closing routine or duties.
I've never run into anyone quite that bad, but I had some coworkers at a theater I worked at whose math skills left much to be desired.
The boss had the prices set, with the taxes included, to make the math easier.
At one point medium drinks were $1.10 and large popcorns were $2.50.
Some of my coworkers could not figure out what four medium drinks or two large popcorns would cost without pulling out a calculator.
This story was originally posted on May 30, 2011, nickname updated to current
I've been meaning to send this one in for a while.
Today allow me to tell you about my restaurant job and the dumbest fucking person I ever worked with.
For the sake of argument we'll call her Lisa, and she was as dumb as a box of hammers... no, forget that, at least hammers are useful. I used to wonder if her parents had any children that lived. She made Kelly Bundy from "Married with Children" look like Stephen Hawking.
When she first was hired, two things (alright three things) were evident. She was a very beautiful girl, and all the genetic material that was supposed to go into her head went to her chest instead. She was 18 and had the chest of a porn star, which she made sure to accentuate by wearing shirts that were at least one size too small (all servers had to wear white button down dress shirts) so she couldn't button the top two buttons, showing off a generous amount of cleavage. Yes, this rock stupid girl was a server.
Now instead of making this an ultra long post about every stupid thing she did (this post would be longer than Freeman's book, and I can't remember it all anyway) I'll limit it to just two. Just to give you an idea though, she would walk up to people in mid conversation, and with NO IDEA what the hell they were talking about, would try to get in on the conversation, didn't get most of the jokes we told, and just said stupid things out of left field.
Now as you all know, being a server requires a decent memory. You have to know what's on the menu, how much it cost (basic math skills), who ordered what, any changes that were made, who had what to drink when you swing by for refills, and generally know your shit. Lisa did not have a decent memory, she never wrote down her schedule and almost always forgot when she was supposed to be in (she would glance at the schedule, swear she had it memorized, and either be late, or not show up at all).
She also had the most atrocious handwriting I have ever seen. I've seen toddlers with better handwriting. Luckily for the cooks, the orders were sent in to the kitchen by computer and printed out. She also couldn't spell. I'm not even talking about server shorthand, I mean she spelled words phonetically. No, I'm not kidding.
She had a recook ticket. These were pink tickets we used exclusively for recooks (not used very often, only if it was an honest mistake on the part of the server). These were not put in through the computer, but handed directly to the cooks. This leads to another problem, Lisa would take food from off the line without checking to see if it was hers (the tickets were RIGHT NEXT TO THE FOOD!).
So she comes in and grabs a steak. Not only does she not check the ticket, she didn't know the difference between Fillet Mignon and a New York Strip. So she wrote up a pink ticket for a recook after the customer took a couple of bites of the steak before realizing A) it wasn't Fillet Mignon, and B) it wasn't cooked the way they wanted.
So the kitchen gets a recook ticket for a -- I really wish I were making this up -- a "filay minyon". This was one of the few times her handwriting was (mostly) legible. The cooks got such a kick out of it, it was shown to all the other servers.
Situation number two.
With many complaints filed about her performance, one of the managers finally took her aside and had a talk with her. It was during a dead period between the lunch and dinner rushes. The manager took Lisa aside at an empty table at the bar, I was standing at the host stand which was about 2 feet away from the table where they were seated. I noticed them out of the corner of my eye, but didn't really pay any attention, I was busy watching the TV over the door, reorganizing the seating chart as servers were cut, cleaning the front doors, changing the specials board and sweeping. I almost forgot they were there. This is important.
That night Lisa's mother comes in. Turns out Lisa was sent home (I didn't even notice her leave), and told her mother that the manager yelled at her, cursed her out, and even hit her! Mind you, I was TWO FEET away from them most of the time, and even forgot they were there because I couldn't hear their conversation. Not only did I back up the manager, who was getting the third degree from Lisa's mother, but the bartender, the other servers and of course the other two managers all stood up for her.
Mom was even more pissed when she realized her daughter lied to her, and mumbled "I'm going to fucking kill that girl," as she stormed out.
Lisa was fired a week later after no-showing two shifts in a row.
Her total time working there?
Three months. Frankly most of us were surprised she lasted as long as she did. We guessed it was her big ol biddies that kept her there that long.
--Son Of Thrognar
I don't know why but I find it sadder when tills come up short due to sheer incompetence rather than theft. Perhaps it is because people can try to fix criminals, but you can't fix stupid.
I swear to Thrognar, ice cream shops attract people who think it will be a fun slacker job. Ha.
When I worked at ye olde seasonal candy and ice cream shoppe I had my first shift with a girl, whom I dub iPod, about two weeks into the season.
Three people were scheduled and it was a warm sunny day, so it was a bit busy. Snarky coworker and I were bopping around scooping cones and doing cash. iPod was sitting on the lone stool mucking around on her iPod.
If we needed her to do anything at all that shift we had to harass her endlessly to get off of her ass and do it. Finally, she announces her shift is over and she's leaving.
I glance at the clock and tell her point blank she has 5 minutes left in her shift. My patience was long gone at the point.
She declares it to be "close enough" and flounces off to clock out. Snarky and I shared an incredulous look and then went back to the shop that was jam packed full of people. Snarky and I both complained to the manager separately about how iPod was worse than useless, she was in the way all fucking day on that fucking stool.
iPod is the one and only person the non confrontational manager has ever fired. I was thrilled.
This story was originally posted on April 15, 2011
My story comes from a few years back when I worked in a small chain of family owned grocery stores. So a little background for this story: first and foremost from day one I worked the morning shift, 6 AM till 4 PM, Monday, Tuesday, Friday, Every other Sat Night Shift 2 PM till 10 PM, and Every Sunday Morning 8 AM to 2 PM which was the entire time the store was open.
So, like I said I usually worked from 6 AM till 4PM that was till one day when this one girl came in that I disliked greatly because she bitched about one thing or another over and over again. Today her complaint was having a really bad headache. She mentioned this several times before 4 PM, she worked from noon to 7 that day. She mentioned in passing that the next day (my day off) that she needed to go buy a new car but because she had to work wasn’t going to be able to.
90% of the time this girl was late to work because she had to rely on other people to get her to work. So being the nicey nice that I am I offered to work her 4 hour shift for her the next day 4PM to 8 PM.
She was pretty grateful about it and I wasn’t all that worried it was extra Money for me. Another hour passes and I’ve got about an hour and a half left I send the girls who have the night shift off on their Lunch breaks because otherwise they won’t get them once I leave. Three girls each taking a half hour, I sent the girl off last as she was last to arrive. At 5 minutes to 4 the Store manager comes back and says to me.
SM: Wolfie you have to stay till 8.
Wolfie: What? Why?
SM: I sent Stupid home (Will call dumb bitch Stupid from now on)
SM: She said she was really sick had a bad migraine.
I sigh and agree its only 4 more hours I can deal with it, done it before when we had a girl walk on the job. The thing that irked me here was that technically after 2PM I was the Deli Manager so yes it was my job to stay so no issue there, it was the fact that she never even asked me if she could go home just waited for her chance to escape the Deli and go over my head. But moving on.
So I worked her remaining 4 hours and then went home to some much needed rest only to come in to all hell breaking loose. My Manager the DELI Manager rips into me the minute I walk into the Deli.
DM: Why in the FUCK did you send Stupid home early yesterday?
Wolfie: I didn’t she asked the Store Manager and he sent her home, he made me stay for her shift.
DM: Well now you’re on Overtime because Stupid says you’re covering her shift today.
Wolfie: That’s correct.
DM: Well then… you’ll be working your shift all by your self tomorrow. I can’t be over my hours.
Wolfie: Okay, that’s fine.
So I settle in to my four hours and go home thinking nothing of it, I can handle a Thursday Morning by myself no big deal at all right? ...Wrong. I get in to the store at Six AM start setting everything up and I’m ready to go when the store opens at 8 AM. It’s a slow trickle through out the day and its pretty easy going. At 3 O’clock I get a call from Mousey one of the other girls I work with and she says she’s going to be about 20 minutes late. I’m fine with that. I’m tired, but I keep trucking….
Then Stupid calls in and ever so nicely tells me she quits. NO big deal 2 more people are coming in they can handle it on their own. Then Mousy calls and says she can’t make it in and she’s really sorry so I’m prepping to work another long shift with Skirt who calls at 4:45 and says:
Skirt: I’m not coming in today,
Skirt: I’m sick, I won’t be in today.
Wolfie: I’m here alone you have to come in.
Wolfie: She didn’t know I was alone, you have to come in.
Skirt: She said I didn’t, bye.
And she hangs up… so here I am at 4:45, 45 Minutes over my shift already with no one coming in to relieve me. I call the Store manager back and explain the situation and he shrugs and says I can try to call someone in.
I try knowing all along that I’m gonna get in trouble from the DM for having more Overtime than I’m supposed to. No one will come in they all say no or they have other things there doing. I’m fucked totally and royally screwed so I call DM and she tells me to just work till close.
So here I am… stuck by myself during the dinner rush, which pretty much has me going non stop from 5 till close at 10. At one point the Produce guy brings me a pop and I actually have to ask customers to wait so I can grab a drink as I’ve been going non stop for the last 3 hours. At 8 O’clock I’m supposed to pull the hot case and I can’t get to it.
The Store Manager comes back and asks why the Hot case hasn’t been pulled and I tell him bluntly I can’t get to it; its gonna have to wait.
He starts screaming at me in front of the whole store telling me I’m not doing my job and that he’s going to report me to the DM the next day. At this point I snap and respond as calmly as I can with:
Wolfie: I am back here all by my self, There is NO ONE ELSE working in the Deli. So either you send me a Stock boy to do dishes and to clean the Hot Case OR You or I will both be here till Midnight!
SM: I don’t have a stock boy to spare.
Wolfie: Well you better find one!
At this I stormed off to help another customer and then another. At some time the most wonderful stock boy in the store comes running back and asks me what he can do to help. I direct him on how to take the Hot Case down and how to do the dishes and he gets to work. He is total Awesome Sauce and by miracles of miracles we manage to get the Deli shut down by 10 and I go home to collapse.
I get a call at 6 AM the next morning from DM that goes much like this:
Wolfie: (half asleep) Hello…
DM: Why did you work till close yesterday?
Wolfie: Nobody came in…
DM: What do you mean nobody came in? What happened to Mousy and Skirt?
Wolfie: Mousy couldn’t get a Ride and you told Skirt she could call off.
DM: I did no such thing! Are you trying to screw up my schedule?! Owner is going to be so pissed!!
Wolfie: If he is, you tell him to talk to me about it, but right now it’s my day off and I’m tired and possibly getting sick…
DM: Oh, are you calling off Saturday?
Wolfie: DO I ever fucking call off?
Woflie: And why is that? Because you WON’T FUCKING LET ME!!!
(Note: I’ve gone into this Job with the flu, Strep Throat and Pneumonia. I was the BEST worker she had and she knew it. I didn't really have a choice; it was work sick or don't have a job. And for those of you who want to know, I wore a Germ mask when I worked with Strep, the Flu and Pneumonia. I'm not a complete idiot.)
I hung up at that point, and the owner did try to rip into me later that day, but I very calmly told him everything that happened and he apologized for the way I was treated and told me to take Sat off and Sunday too if I was working. He said he would approve the Time and a half I’d earned working almost 60 hours that week.
Stay strong RHUers!
Peace this Life and the Next,
--The Undead Wolfie