Closing Time Nightmare Revenge: Flutilicious Gets Her 15 Minutes Back

 

CLOSINGNIGHTMARES

From Flutilicous, March, 2016:

My coworker and I were threatened with write ups last week. 

The reason why.....we were busy.

This happened last Sunday.  It was the last day of a (basically) half-price sale (The sale was $50 off of every $100 spent)so of course it was crazy busy. 

On a normal Sunday we have three people on the schedule for the majority of the day.  For some reason one of our usual Sunday people needed it off, however the SM did not bother to schedule anybody else in her place.  We had a part timer (R) who worked open to close (we are only open 7 hours on Sunday), the SM worked four hours and I worked four hours. (the extra hour is opening and closing the store).  Since it was the last day of the sale we also had to change the ad signs. 

R took care of the majority of the customers in the morning while the SM spent most of her time in the back, and she started a big project that she knew she wouldn't finish, never mind that it's against company policy to do any tasks on weekends.  The store closes at 6:00, the last customer did not leave until 5:30. 

The SM called at least three times after she left to see what the sales were (why the heck she just didn't stay all day is beyond me...well yeah, she's the SM, if she doesn't want to work a full day she doesn't schedule herself for one). I finally got back to her at 5:45 to tell her that we were at almost $2500 in sales (more than double what we do on a 'normal' Sunday).  When you consider that the sale was basically half price, we sold about $5,000 in merchandise.  SM tells me to start the ad change so we can be out by 6:30. 

OCTOCAROL 075I couldn't find the signs I needed because the SM didn't put them back in the right place when she did the last sign change, and the window signs were torn from when they were changed for the last sale (again, the SM's doing).  By the time we got everything together, finally got the window signs put up, we had about 10 minutes to change the rest of the store...so we basically were running like headless chickens to get the signs up.  We didn't even touch the rest of the store...the SMs mess was just as she left it (maybe a little worse because custys shopped it), stuff was still in the fitting room from the last custys.  We ended up punching out and leaving at 6:45.  Monday morning SM sends a nasty group text yelling about the state of the store and since we only had two transactions in the last hour we weren't busy...then she threatened a write up.  

R responded that most of that was HER (SMs) mess that she left, and I responded that if she even tried to write us up for having a $2500 sales day that I would turn in my keys.  R had already given her notice and only had two more days to work.  I wasn't scheduled again until Friday.  I punch in, check my time and find out that SM had adjusted R and my time back to 6:30 on Sunday...basically having us working the last 15 minutes without pay.  I talked to R on Friday, she said she has already contacted the DM and was going to go to the RM and HR about it.  I said I'll find a way to get my 15 minutes back (which I did...that's coming in the next paragraph).  

Friday I worked and I was livid about the time adjustment.  The AM opened and I closed.  All the AM could do was complain about her period, left me to deal with the custys while she hid in the back.  My first hour at the store we did $1100 in sales.  After the AM left another part timer, T came in and worked a 4 hour shift.  Before she left, the AM decided she needed to talk down to us like we were children and tell us what needed to be done, and tells us not to worry about recovery since it was just two of us and it was a busy day.  T and I worked our butts off, did another $1,000 in sales and got everything done that we were supposed to.   Saturday morning, the SM says we didn't recover the store because we only sold $57 in the last hour and she found one hanger out of place.  Commence another 5 year old discussion that we aren't doing our jobs...despite the fact that we had high sales for the rest of the day.  (Yes, the SM judges the entire day based on the last hour). With everything we did, one hanger out of place isn't all that bad.

How did I get my 15 minutes back? 

I volunteered to take our deposit to the bank on Saturday.  There's a McDonald's on the way to the bank so I pulled in, got some breakfast, sat in the parking lot and ate it, then went to the bank.  When I got back to the store I told the SM that the bank was busy.  So basically I got paid  for sitting at McDonalds eating a sausage biscuit with a cup of coffee.

--♫Flutilicious

 

read more Closing Time Nightmare stories here

 and for more Cashier Hell tales go here

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Corporate Caused Hell and Toxic Managers: Store Savior or Amoral Douchebag?

 

Droid

From Confused in Hell, March, 2009:

Due to recent company budget cuts, my company just busted me down from full-time to part-time, with a corresponding reduction in hours.

This after 5 years of loyal service (or servitude, depending on how you look at it). After 5 years of feeling fairly bulletproof, I now go to work every day terrified of getting fired, just like every other part-time employee.

Not only that, but they also expect us to work harder now. Like we could! They expect more work and more dedication, while they continue to give us less and less. I've lost all my medical benefits! I can't get my teeth fixed now! 

One time when I was late, my store manager says, "You know, this kind of makes me question your integrity."

A couple of days later, when I agreed to stay an extra hour, he says "You're my hero."

WTF? I'm either a person of questionable integrity, or I'm a hero.

Would ya mind picking one and sticking with it please?

I'm either the savior of the store, or I'm an amoral douchebag.

I'm so confused...

--Confused in Hell

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Thrift Store Hell: Two Letters From Lemkil

 

From Puppies In Prada

So I'm just going to let you read this.... abomination from Lemkil from a few days ago. Just... read it first, then read the rest of it....

IMG_0483

So.... Hoo boy. How do I even describe this? Potential sexual harassment? Standard harassment? Hostile work environment? I... don't even fucking know the laundry list of things this letter would have resulted in, in a corporate company. If this had been aimed at me, I would have stolen Thrognar's mighty hammer and wielded it with a scream of "FOR ASGARD!"

The actual story:

We have two electronics dudes. Scotty is one. The other is the subject of this... 'letter.' Let's call him James. We received a mini fridge at the door. James took it to an outlet and plugged it in. The idea was to let it run for a while and see whether it would actually chill. He left a note on it to that effect.

Steve passed by and out of random passing curiosity, opened it and stuck his hand inside to see how it was doing. It wasn't chilling. Steve fiddled with it, and discovered that plugging it in wasn't enough. There's also a switch you have to turn to "ON." He flips the switch, and the refer starts chilling.

Steve tells some of us the story, and there's some good-natured, and lighthearted ribbing amongst ourselves (James wasn't present at the time, he had some sort of minor family emergency, thus 'unscheduled time off.' The guy has two kids and a wife he absolutely adores, so they were probably involved), with most of us admitting that we've all been guilty of turning on the wrong burner on the stove before. It was a simple derp that any one of us could have done.

Nothing serious, nothing devastating, not even really a thing that will actually impact anybody at all in terms of workload.

And apparently Lemkil overheard.

Now you've read the actual story. Go back and read that monstrosity again. If it makes you even MORE pissed off, you know how I feel typing this. And you can imagine the horror that our poor Accessories Girl must have felt when she spotted that letter pinned to the COMMUNAL CORK BOARD in the break room for several days! She knew who it referred to, and it upset the hell out of her. She pulled it down, trying to spare James' feelings, and told one of our Leads about it. The Lead took it from Accessories Girl, made photocopies and planned to show it to Missy.

But wait! There's more... APPARENTLY this story doesn't end here. 

Lemkil somehow got wind that his note made someone upset and that was why his message was removed.

THIS appeared on the corkboard the very next day.

IMG_0480
"Spirit of jest." "Good natured comedy." Mother fucker, what color is the sky in your world?!

Good natured comedy is a sympathetic grin and a mild nudge of "So I hear you forgot to turn it on, huh?" Not... that. And then the knee jerk.... passive agressive? or just aggressive? I know it's only a note, but that doesn't seem all that passive.... response to someone becoming offended.

Keep in mind, this is Lemkil.The man who behaved in a violent manner toward objects and carts, who snarled at me when I called him out on his behavior, and who has (since then) screamed 10 F-Bombs at me in the span of two minutes because HE accepted a massive amount of sports items at the door. We were not supposed to accept them for a while because there was no room, and when I reminded him... F-Bombs leveled the city.

Missy is leaving. Maybe Lemkil is mentally incapable of handling the fact that the management is changing and is acting out in some way? (This dude is in his 40's or more, so Jesus fuck, how do you get to be that age without learning how to handle change?) Maybe Lemkil doesn't want to work here under new management and is hoping to be canned, rather than take it upon himself to find another job? Maybe this is some ass-backwards way of 'punishing' Missy for leaving, by trying to force her to have to deal with him before she goes?

I just... I don't understand this... I mean, I agree that it sucks that Missy is leaving (on the 15th no less, still no idea who the new manager is...) but there are WAY better ways to handle this, even if you just want to quit.

I'll tell you one thing... if all that commentary was truthful about planning to be harsh and 'professional' to employees, and that he will be actively hunting us all down for the slightest infraction, every fucking employee will either kill him and bury the body in the field out back, or simply leave the job on the spot.

Pray for us, RHU.

--Puppies In Prada

 


Retail Hell Memories: Toxic Manager Survivor

 

Grocery hell 2

From Triple Fucking M:

In 1995, after a long period of unemployment, I finally landed a job in a supermarket, overnights, stocking shelves. Just the fact that I was working overnights for minimum wage sucked badly enough, but my supervisor was also the biggest dick I've ever worked for. He, and his immediate subordinate would constantly berate me for not moving fast enough while they stood around drinking coffee. The stress was nearly unbearable, so eventually I told the Dick I was looking for another job. He seemed pleased.

A week or so went by, and he asked me if I was still looking for another job. When I told him yes, he said, "Well, look harder. I'm tired of seeing your face."

He even actually told me that he was going to make me quit!   

Weeks went by, and I endured unbelievable levels of Retail Torture at the hands of this insufferable dickwad.

Eventually he and his cronies realized that they weren't going to make me quit, so they played their last card: a transfer to a different department. They said I could either quit, or get transferred to the front end to bag groceries. The idea was that I, being a man, would never stoop so low as to move from the uber-macho job of stocking shelves at night to the girly-man position of being a bag boy.

Of course, I was seeing it a bit differently. Number one, I didn't have to work with a bunch of dickhead Retail Nazis, I didn't have to sleep all day like a frickin' vampire, AND I got to be up front, in the sunshine, up where all the girls are. 

I said, "Where do I sign?", and the next week I was up front, happily bagging away with a smile on my face.

I later found out that Dickwad had a bet withe assistant store manager that he could make me quit.

FOR 20 DOLLARS!

A few months later, all the Retail Nazis had been transferred to other stores, and I ended up working at the same store for five years, and was very nearly the highest-paid grocery bagger in the company.

And the girls loved me.  :)
 
My name is Triple Fucking M, and I'm a Retail Nazi Survivor.
 
June, 2009
 
 
 
 
 

 

 


Justice Served: "If You Have Time To Lean..."

 

F2From RHUer

My manager was absolutely anal about that loathed phrase, "If you have time to lean, you have time to clean!"

Stop to take a drink of water? The phrase was bellowed across the store.

Pause to retie that damn shoelace you keep tripping over? Storming over to you to snarl it in your ear as you struggle to balance on one foot.

Slip on something and have to grab a shelf to avoid landing on your ass? Crank it up to Volume 11, people!

Now keep in mind, our place can only be kept so clean during business hours. Even mopping the floor is only ever done before or after hours, because nobody has the time to mop around half a dozen customers who are trying to shop for their product.

So short of randomly tugging a clorox wipe out of its bottle and giving the front counter a cursory wipe, cleaning instead of leaning is utter bullshit. We have other duties, and it's not unreasonable to do the minor aforementioned things.

But my manager won't hear of it. So I finally got fed up and grabbed a disposable camera... or five... and was on my manager like a paparazzi on the tanned buttcheeks of a supermodel wearing a bikini. For five days that week, I filled my camera with instances of him "leaning" against random things. I learned that he was a "Do as I say, not as I do," kind of guy. It filled me with vindictive pleasure to get shots of him leaning but not cleaning.

The following week, I ninja'd my ass into the breakroom and tacked Every. Single. Picture. to the Announcements pegboard. I wallpapered that cork board and the wall around it with pictures of my manager leaning against all sorts of shit. I hung a custom made banner with my manager's FAVORITE line above them all.

Then I left it alone.

The manager came in at noon.

Silence.

My photos and banner disappeared without fanfare.

The entire day was spent blissfully unbothered by my manager's usual bellowing of the phrase. The day stretched to a week. Then to a month. Six months later, I got a job somewhere else. I never again heard that phrase so much as whispered in that store.

I forget what it cost to get all that stuff made, but the final verdict was: "Worth it."

--RHUer

 


To The Bosses Who Expect Us To Work During a Hurricane

 

1

From The Bitchy Waiter

As Hurricane Florence makes a beeline for the coast of the Carolinas and Virginia, millions of people are being advised to evacuate the area immediately and take shelter from the massive Category 4 storm. Most people will heed that advice, but plenty of others will be forced to stay and weather the storm because they have no place to go or simply cannot afford to leave. Others will make the possibly unwise decision to stay in place because of a reason that is completely out of their control: stupid ass restaurant owners and managers requiring them to come to work.

Every time there is a natural disaster of some sort, I’m bombarded with stories from servers and restaurant employees who tell me that their boss made them go to work. Such is the case with Beth who, despite living in a mandatory evacuation zone, will get written up as a “no-show” if she chooses to focus on the safety and welfare of herself and her family rather than the livelihood of her restaurant. “Even Wal-Mart is closed,” she says. And we all know that when the fucking Wal-Mart closes, that shit is serious.

I want to take a minute to speak directly to the restaurant managers and owners who are expecting their servers to drive through 125 mile per hour wind and sheets of rain just so they can sit in an empty restaurant making $2.13 an hour:

Fuck that. If you want to keep your restaurant open during a Category 4 hurricane, fine, but you better find yourself an apron, a chef’s hat and a clipboard because you should be the one who waits tables, cooks the food and seats the customers. Let your servers, cooks and hosts take care of their own property while you take care of yours. You can argue that you want to remain open to help serve the community in this time of need, but you shouldn’t expect your staff to do it. Why would you think they’d want to put your needs ahead of their own? So, what, they work their seven hour shift and then they can’t get home because the road have been washed out and there’s a fucking tree laying on their car? No. Just, no. For the sake of everyone’s safety, including your own, accept that a Category 4 is a major problem and it’s alright to let the restaurant be closed for a few days while you focus on more important things like sandbagging your home, securing outdoor furniture and staying fucking alive.

To all of you who are in the path of this hurricane, I wish you well. I hope it’s not as bad as they say it is and I hope the recovery is swift. Most of all, I hope that if you work for a boss who expects you to ignore this storm and come to work that your boss gets hit in the head by a tree limb just hard enough to know some fucking sense into them.

--The Bitchy Waiter