Not my job, actually: My management. From Neetin (ASM1)'s words of telling me that the bus strike is an 'inconvenience' and asking for a doctor's note when I'm sick for a day, to Chris' (ASM2) refusal to let me give away a shift when I need to wasn't bad enough-
Donald, the Store manager (The guy who impressed me a lot when I first met him, because he seemed incredibly competent, if a little smarmy: at least it was a smarmy I could see and understand) did a series of FUCKING ASSHOLE moments today.
First? He was supposed to work a 1:30-9:30 shift. He took a second break at 6 and didn't come back for almost 45- when he did come back it was to find John had stepped outside for a minute to speak to his cousin. He bitched John out for being gone 'for too long'. I took my 15, came back. The store is EMPTY, there are 5 reps on the floor, Donald is standing out the front of the store. John asks if he can take his break now; donald tells him he has to wait. Just bacause.
Little more than an hour later, he took off (and went home, but we don't know that yet), leaving us with no senior staff and Ben in charge with the keys. We can't get into the safe if we need a starter kit of a $50 card, and have no one of authority.
He left at 7:30. He didn't tell any of us where he was or why he was going or when he'd be back.
The guys called at 8:30, and he said he wasn't anywhere nearby and he'd be back around closing.
At 9 he hasn't shown up. We start to close tills after 9:15 because we were major busy with clients till then. Ben is also not leader material and so didn't think to kick anyone into gear before closing to get some things done. But we still manage to work at it. My till is over 140 dollars though- so we call Donald up, and he says he'll be there shortly. We figure out it's an issue with input from till 5, fix it, get everything settled and figure we're just about done.
Donald comes in, 9:25. First words out of his mouth? "Who did the cabinents?----Well, they don't look done.----Where's John and Andrew?" HE goes to the back- John's changed into his normal clothing.
Donald asks him why the back isn't clean- John tells him he was about to organize it, it won't take a second. Donald tells him he should have done it before getting out of uniform. you don't get out of uniform till you're done.
My manager is in a fucking BAND T-SHIRT and KHAKI SHORTS while he chews this guy out for being out of uniform.
He sends John home. He then chews US out for not taking charge, for Ben not delegating and for all of us closing tills. There's a discrepency in my till- the declared amount is 100 bucks short. odd. John had double counted for me- Donald calls him back into the store. We find the money (in the float) and John asks if he can go- since he clocked out.
Donald says- in the snottiest damn voice: "It's not my fault you clocked out. I'll pay you for your time, go clean the back."
He continues to chastize us and tell us 'we'll discuss this later'. Apparently this is all our fault because we should have inherently known to do his job for him when he wasn't here.
We didn't get out till 10:10. 40 minutes late.
I nearly told him off right there on the spot- only two things stopped me. One, I need this job for going to California in July,
and two, he didn't directly speak to me, save to acknowledge that I was busy.
But it was a damn near thing, lemmie tell ya.
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I do not have an appropriatley enraged icon.
Donald, the Store manager (The guy who impressed me a lot when I first met him, because he seemed incredibly competent, if a little smarmy: at least it was a smarmy I could see and understand) did a series of FUCKING ASSHOLE moments today.
First? He was supposed to work a 1:30-9:30 shift. He took a second break at 6 and didn't come back for almost 45- when he did come back it was to find John had stepped outside for a minute to speak to his cousin. He bitched John out for being gone 'for too long'. I took my 15, came back. The store is EMPTY, there are 5 reps on the floor, Donald is standing out the front of the store. John asks if he can take his break now; donald tells him he has to wait. Just bacause.
Little more than an hour later, he took off (and went home, but we don't know that yet), leaving us with no senior staff and Ben in charge with the keys. We can't get into the safe if we need a starter kit of a $50 card, and have no one of authority.
He left at 7:30. He didn't tell any of us where he was or why he was going or when he'd be back.
The guys called at 8:30, and he said he wasn't anywhere nearby and he'd be back around closing.
At 9 he hasn't shown up. We start to close tills after 9:15 because we were major busy with clients till then. Ben is also not leader material and so didn't think to kick anyone into gear before closing to get some things done. But we still manage to work at it. My till is over 140 dollars though- so we call Donald up, and he says he'll be there shortly. We figure out it's an issue with input from till 5, fix it, get everything settled and figure we're just about done.
Donald comes in, 9:25. First words out of his mouth? "Who did the cabinents?----Well, they don't look done.----Where's John and Andrew?" HE goes to the back- John's changed into his normal clothing.
Donald asks him why the back isn't clean- John tells him he was about to organize it, it won't take a second. Donald tells him he should have done it before getting out of uniform. you don't get out of uniform till you're done.
My manager is in a fucking BAND T-SHIRT and KHAKI SHORTS while he chews this guy out for being out of uniform.
He sends John home. He then chews US out for not taking charge, for Ben not delegating and for all of us closing tills. There's a discrepency in my till- the declared amount is 100 bucks short. odd. John had double counted for me- Donald calls him back into the store. We find the money (in the float) and John asks if he can go- since he clocked out.
Donald says- in the snottiest damn voice: "It's not my fault you clocked out. I'll pay you for your time, go clean the back."
He continues to chastize us and tell us 'we'll discuss this later'. Apparently this is all our fault because we should have inherently known to do his job for him when he wasn't here.
We didn't get out till 10:10. 40 minutes late.
I nearly told him off right there on the spot- only two things stopped me. One, I need this job for going to California in July,
and two, he didn't directly speak to me, save to acknowledge that I was busy.
But it was a damn near thing, lemmie tell ya.
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I do not have an appropriatley enraged icon.
Mood: enraged
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