could go in morons in management, but I don't work there, so here it goes.
1) Where this takes place is a right-to-work state-- which, for practical terms mean "if you're a bother, we fire you at some later date for shit/no reason"
2) Burrito Hell is a substitute name-- another tex-mex food item and something that rings
3) BF works there.
I got called tonight because there wasn't anything in the store's first aid kit. So why did they need me? No one had a car to get anything-- for a fucking second degree burn! Grease dumped on the back of a coworker's hand-- just from the description of "there's blood" told me, someone's who's first aid course is almost 10 years behind her, that this was serious.
No hospital. No workmans' comp. Not even a report-- in the logs, to the health department, nothing. I had to use my BF's own money and hoof it to the store to get burn ointment and appropriate bandaging, for under 15 bucks. I barely managed it.
And I have to wait a few days to call corporate or find another phone, 'cuz I already filled out a survey in the last six weeks.
Originally, I was going to give coirker (dude numero tres at the store) a ride to his place to get the stuff, but his psychotic gf won't even stand the idea of him in a car with something that has a vagina. Why they told her my gender I haven't the slightest.
FFS.
The burn was about the size of a tennis ball, very pussy, already raised a few millimeters off the back of his hand. hair was still in place, and very slight blood seemed to be beading at the pores. He couldn't keep it under cold water for very long, because the pressure hurt too much. I told him the skin was still cooking, and he just shrugged it off. Stupid fuck, now that's definitely going to blister!
AND the GM for the night's all "suck it up, and no you can not leave."
YOU SUCK BH GM! No love. Not at all.
1) Where this takes place is a right-to-work state-- which, for practical terms mean "if you're a bother, we fire you at some later date for shit/no reason"
2) Burrito Hell is a substitute name-- another tex-mex food item and something that rings
3) BF works there.
I got called tonight because there wasn't anything in the store's first aid kit. So why did they need me? No one had a car to get anything-- for a fucking second degree burn! Grease dumped on the back of a coworker's hand-- just from the description of "there's blood" told me, someone's who's first aid course is almost 10 years behind her, that this was serious.
No hospital. No workmans' comp. Not even a report-- in the logs, to the health department, nothing. I had to use my BF's own money and hoof it to the store to get burn ointment and appropriate bandaging, for under 15 bucks. I barely managed it.
And I have to wait a few days to call corporate or find another phone, 'cuz I already filled out a survey in the last six weeks.
Originally, I was going to give coirker (dude numero tres at the store) a ride to his place to get the stuff, but his psychotic gf won't even stand the idea of him in a car with something that has a vagina. Why they told her my gender I haven't the slightest.
FFS.
The burn was about the size of a tennis ball, very pussy, already raised a few millimeters off the back of his hand. hair was still in place, and very slight blood seemed to be beading at the pores. He couldn't keep it under cold water for very long, because the pressure hurt too much. I told him the skin was still cooking, and he just shrugged it off. Stupid fuck, now that's definitely going to blister!
AND the GM for the night's all "suck it up, and no you can not leave."
YOU SUCK BH GM! No love. Not at all.
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