I've been busy as all get-out, seeing as how our company had the brilliant idea to remove HR from the stores altogether. Most of it is now done on the district level, with the ASMs doing hiring, but maintaining all that paperwork and maintaining payroll for the hourly associates now falls to us in the office. Oh, and by the way? We're expected to use 30 hours to do it, and they didn't feel like this increase in responsibility warranted a pay increase.
What really got me to write was something that happened to my brother, who I recommended work for this company, something we both regret. He won a random, company-wide drawing (Twice!) for a gift card. According to his manager, the Store Manager withheld awarding the card because one of his metrics was low, due to some malfunctioning equipment. I guess the Assistant Manager talked to him, and my brother got the cards, but that just left a bad taste in my mouth.
Speaking of malfunctioning equipment, the keypad on our cash counting machine broke down. It still weighs the money, but we can't assign the counts to registers, or calculate the shortages, or add checks to the count, using the machines functions. We've been doing that all by hand, and it's frustrating. To make it worse, when we called in to get it repaired, we were told we no longer had a contract with the company that made it, and we're supposedly getting a new machine "soon."
Suffice to say, I'm seeking new employment. While I didn't want to go back to retail grunt after working in the office, I just need some money for a CNA course, so I might suck it up and get a short-term job at Wally World or something. Just enough for the course and some money to move to a place with a lower cost of living.
Everything will be just fine,
I’ve not wrote in, RHU, because the bullshit has gotten so deep, I don’t know where to start. Every day brings a new round of misery and I am getting physically SICK of the idea of going into work because of the childish drama and mind games.
Chatty Cat can’t get her few days off she needs to go to the doctor or take her mother to the doctor. Chatty Cat has neuropathy in her feet, and for those of you who don’t know, it causes terrible pain and makes it almost impossible to stand up on them for even short periods. Her mother can’t take herself to the doctor because she’s had both feet amputated for complications of the same thing and has uterine cancer now. SO! Chatty Cat can’t get her OR her mother to their appointments, and if she IS actually given a day off for the doctor, it’s in addition to her 2 days off, giving her only 4 days a week.
No, she can’t go get a second job to make up for it, because this place will actually fire you if you get another job on top of it.
SignGirl can barely get ANY days off, and can’t spend any time with her children. Her daughter met her at the front door having cried so hard because she missed her mom that her nose was bleeding. She can’t even get to talent shows, to school functions, to after school activities. And the manager doesn’t care.
Shift Leader 1 got in trouble for some of the WORST FUCKING BULLSHIT I HAVE EVER HAD TO PUT UP WITH and this is my breaking point.
Last Friday, I was in the Gas Station with Giggles. By the time I finally got to the trash, it was raining and I barely had any trash bags left. Enough to do the inside trash with, but not the outside.
Let me repeat: I HAD 3 TRASH BAGS TO WORK WITH. I COULD NOT FIND ANY MORE.
I pulled the inside trash and took it out. Because it was raining, we don’t have to pull outside. Not like it mattered, because we couldn’t find the trash bags for outside.
On Tuesday, I am speaking to Shift Leader 1, and she mentions that she had just gotten in trouble with the manager because the outside trash had not been pulled on Friday. She asks me why this was and I reminded her that it had been raining and we could not find the outside bags. They were NOWHERE to be found.
Well, the asshole shift leader on 3rd TOOK PICTURES of the overflowing trash. There’s actually a posted rule that says, "I don’t care if a previous shift didn’t do something: You are here for 8 hours, you can do it yourself." Of course, that only gets applied if MY shift mentions something wasn’t done. If ANOTHER shift complains, no one remembers it.
It seems ChattyCat heard us. It’s not a secret, Shift Leader 1 was not told to not tell anyone about it. So ChattyCat looked at the asshole in question that night and said, "Really? Pictures?" That’s all.
Yesterday, Shift Leader 1 is called BACK in the office, and the manager demands to know WHY she told ChattyCat about the pictures, because she wasn’t supposed to mention it. She explains to the manager that she hadn’t directly told ChattyCat, that it had been heard while she was telling me about the trash.
Manager: Well WHY would you tell Terah about it?! You shouldn’t have said ANYTHING!
Shift Leader 1: She’s the one who "didn’t do the trash!" And we didn’t have trash bags, anyway. We can’t ever find the ones we need.
She got told to just go to work and we told the maintainance worker about it, because his mother-in-law is Shift Leader 2. We just wanted to know where to find the outside trash bags, that’s all we asked for.
WE GOT IN TROUBLE FOR NOT DOING THE OUTSIDE TRASH BECAUSE WE COULDN’T FIND BAGS BECAUSE THE MANAGER HAD THEM HIDDEN FROM US SO WE COULD NOT DO THE OUTSIDE TRASH.
And because of previous instances of people going over my manager’s head for problems, we can’t even report her anymore because it will get us in trouble for 'going over her head.'
The next time I write in, RHU, it may be because Terah has exploded on everyone and quit.
--Terah, The Gas Slave
Unless The Eulogy Is "Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead," This Is Not An Appropriate Advertisement For That Sort Of Thing
Once I worked in a blood bank and we were getting crank bomb scares (it was the 80's).
We would call the police and close up shop.
On the weekends, the switchboard was closed and all calls went through the Lab. I overheard a lab employee say that they got another bomb scare call, but since all the others were phoney, they laughed it off.
Once I heard, I told the charge nurse that I wasn't planning on my family having to find my body in the rubble the one time there was really a bomb!
We closed up shop and put a note on the door saying, "Closed due to bomb scare."
The donors who came in asked if they still get their T-shirt even though they couldn't give blood!