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Stories from Work!
* We have this one regular who seems to be around an awful lot. He and I get along well because we are both Red Sox fans, though I take a certain amount of ribbing for also being a Tigers fan (today he saw me in my Detroit hat and Varitek shirt and claimed it was like wearing stuff for the Celtics and the Lakers, like excuse me, I may know shit about basketball, but I do know that the Lakers are evil). Today, when he came in for the third time in three hours, I couldn't resist teasing him a little.
"Dude, don't you have somewhere you, like, live?"
As a matter of fact, no. No, he does not. Oops. Fortunately, he was too busy taking my remark as a sign from the universe or something to be offended.
* I learned today, in idle chatter to my coworker, that another regular is a Texas native, and thus AN ASTROS FAN. Since I thought I was the only Astros fan in Maine, and possibly all of New England, I was ecstatic, and raved on about Morgan Ensberg and our pitching rotation and how we're two games ahead in the wild card race after those first two abysmal months. When I paused to breathe, he admitted that he mostly keeps track of the team through his brother. Well, now he doesn't need his brother. He just needs to walk through the door when I am working.
* Except not next week, because I am scheduled to work at the Cumby's store that is like two minutes from my house. FOR A FULL FORTY HOUR WEEK. YAY MONEY. Also, it's eight to four instead of seven to three, and obviously I don't need a bus, so I get to wake up at seven fifteen instead of five fifteen. (Which means, for those of you who might be keeping track of such things, that I will be much more available for fake!chat next week.) I like the store I work at because I like the people, which is why I didn't transfer, but I am liking these benefits muchly. It's a busier store, so I may go insane, but we'll see.
* Corporate is becoming increasingly anal about absolutely everything in the world. It is suddenly policy that we can only keep two hundred seventy-five dollars in the cash safe, where we keep extra money for our drawers. Yeah, why don't you guys running two registers with everyone paying in twenties with a limited amount of small bills available? Also, a new guy, first day on the job, was kicked out of the store last night for OMG MY GOD THE WORLD WILL END wearing jeans instead of tan pants. On his first day? WTF? I could see if he'd been there for a month, but for all we know, he will not be able to afford any tan pants until he gets his first paycheck. Also, he had too much money in his drawer (during the day, the limit is seventy-five, which is tricky enough; after nine PM, it's fifty. HAHAHAHAHA no), so there was trouble for that. I will be interested to see if things are clamping down so tightly at the other store, too, because I swear they are trying to kill ours.
* So who gets yelled at for all this? The employees who made the mistakes? No. Our manager. Who was not there. She gets yelled at for everything we do. The DM sees me not wearing my nametag, which I take off a lot because I hate having random strangers know my name, doesn't say a word to me, and later reams Lori. Corporate decides that our registers need to line up with the edge of the counter instead of being pushed back a few inches (?), doesn't mention a thing to any of us monkeys, and lays it on Lori and the assistant manager. She came back from a meeting in tears today, and later Jim and I saw her crying against her friend. UGH. Lori is sweet and a good manager and having personal problems to boot. It drives Jim and I (and the others, too, I would imagine) to watch the company treat her like shit. Jim, who on top of his anger issues was recently forced by his health to quit smoking pot, is ready to go to the regional office next door and just start killing people. I'm not sure how much I am actually exaggerating there.
* Jim is wicked cool, though, and as someone who has experience with much better jobs (he has a degree in science-y something or other and has been working the types of jobs one gets with that sort of degree) he has a very clear perspective on how badly Cumby's is really treating us. Lori is the only reason he hasn't simply walked out yet.
* I hate Cumberland Farms.
* I actually followed up on the "help wanted" sign in the porn store down the street today. They've already got someone. This is probably not a bad thing.
* HATE. Want new job. I will miss my coworkers and some of the regulars, but not the anti-human policies or the useless tiny paycheck. College starts back up shortly, and kids will be leaving to go back, so hopefully the job market will open up soon.
* We have this one regular who seems to be around an awful lot. He and I get along well because we are both Red Sox fans, though I take a certain amount of ribbing for also being a Tigers fan (today he saw me in my Detroit hat and Varitek shirt and claimed it was like wearing stuff for the Celtics and the Lakers, like excuse me, I may know shit about basketball, but I do know that the Lakers are evil). Today, when he came in for the third time in three hours, I couldn't resist teasing him a little.
"Dude, don't you have somewhere you, like, live?"
As a matter of fact, no. No, he does not. Oops. Fortunately, he was too busy taking my remark as a sign from the universe or something to be offended.
* I learned today, in idle chatter to my coworker, that another regular is a Texas native, and thus AN ASTROS FAN. Since I thought I was the only Astros fan in Maine, and possibly all of New England, I was ecstatic, and raved on about Morgan Ensberg and our pitching rotation and how we're two games ahead in the wild card race after those first two abysmal months. When I paused to breathe, he admitted that he mostly keeps track of the team through his brother. Well, now he doesn't need his brother. He just needs to walk through the door when I am working.
* Except not next week, because I am scheduled to work at the Cumby's store that is like two minutes from my house. FOR A FULL FORTY HOUR WEEK. YAY MONEY. Also, it's eight to four instead of seven to three, and obviously I don't need a bus, so I get to wake up at seven fifteen instead of five fifteen. (Which means, for those of you who might be keeping track of such things, that I will be much more available for fake!chat next week.) I like the store I work at because I like the people, which is why I didn't transfer, but I am liking these benefits muchly. It's a busier store, so I may go insane, but we'll see.
* Corporate is becoming increasingly anal about absolutely everything in the world. It is suddenly policy that we can only keep two hundred seventy-five dollars in the cash safe, where we keep extra money for our drawers. Yeah, why don't you guys running two registers with everyone paying in twenties with a limited amount of small bills available? Also, a new guy, first day on the job, was kicked out of the store last night for OMG MY GOD THE WORLD WILL END wearing jeans instead of tan pants. On his first day? WTF? I could see if he'd been there for a month, but for all we know, he will not be able to afford any tan pants until he gets his first paycheck. Also, he had too much money in his drawer (during the day, the limit is seventy-five, which is tricky enough; after nine PM, it's fifty. HAHAHAHAHA no), so there was trouble for that. I will be interested to see if things are clamping down so tightly at the other store, too, because I swear they are trying to kill ours.
* So who gets yelled at for all this? The employees who made the mistakes? No. Our manager. Who was not there. She gets yelled at for everything we do. The DM sees me not wearing my nametag, which I take off a lot because I hate having random strangers know my name, doesn't say a word to me, and later reams Lori. Corporate decides that our registers need to line up with the edge of the counter instead of being pushed back a few inches (?), doesn't mention a thing to any of us monkeys, and lays it on Lori and the assistant manager. She came back from a meeting in tears today, and later Jim and I saw her crying against her friend. UGH. Lori is sweet and a good manager and having personal problems to boot. It drives Jim and I (and the others, too, I would imagine) to watch the company treat her like shit. Jim, who on top of his anger issues was recently forced by his health to quit smoking pot, is ready to go to the regional office next door and just start killing people. I'm not sure how much I am actually exaggerating there.
* Jim is wicked cool, though, and as someone who has experience with much better jobs (he has a degree in science-y something or other and has been working the types of jobs one gets with that sort of degree) he has a very clear perspective on how badly Cumby's is really treating us. Lori is the only reason he hasn't simply walked out yet.
* I hate Cumberland Farms.
* I actually followed up on the "help wanted" sign in the porn store down the street today. They've already got someone. This is probably not a bad thing.
* HATE. Want new job. I will miss my coworkers and some of the regulars, but not the anti-human policies or the useless tiny paycheck. College starts back up shortly, and kids will be leaving to go back, so hopefully the job market will open up soon.
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Sweeeeeeet. Because, you know, shit must be worked out, and all that.
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