Tweet
Today, being, of course, Labor Day for us American types. Originally created as a day for all the laborers and workers and such to take a day off from the daily grind, spend time with their families, etc.
Capitalism being what it is, it's turned into another excuse for sales and the glut of spending. As a result, while office workers and "coprorate" types get the day off, us retail drones and wage slaves usually have to trudge in to work to deal with all of the shoppers who want to take advantage of sales and the day off to spend money.
And many of them try to sound sympathetic to our plights, telling us "Oh, I'm sooo sorry you have to work today!"
Eh heh. No. No, you're not. If you were really as sorry as you say you are, you would not be out shopping. Especially not at the wholesale club. We don't have sales. We have instant rebates and coupons and such, yes, but those have been in effect for the last week and a half, and will be valid for another week and a half from now. So anything you're buying today, you could have bought tomorrow!
*huff* Today was just ... blech. Swamped with customers-- some sucky, some entitled, some sympathetic without really being sympathetic, some just... there.
Herself was on duty, and griefing about the fact that she had Miss Newbie behind the desk with her (current theory-- Herself feels threatened by Newbie being trained for "her" job), griefing about the fact that Shorty was doing FLS/SCO duties (and not all that well-- but Shorty's new at both jobs, so I forgive her for that), griefing about a lot of little details that really don't call for her raising her voice.
I ended up doing re-shops for most of the shift, and I got asked where <product> was every time I turned around.
The store had a cookout going for the crew today, but due to the circumstances of my schedule, I arrived at the store just after the first batch of burgers had been eaten, and didn't get a break until after the next batch was already gone.
I ended up getting conscripted into throwing out a couple of boxes that a kid had puked in-- because Herself asked Miss Newbie to do it, and Miss Newbie passed the buck to me. I gloved up, got a big trash bag, and-- fighting dry heaves-- bagged the boxes, knotted the bag, and carried it to the back to the dumpster.
Then Hoss and I had carts to do, and we had to dodge traffic, since we were doing it earlier than we usually do carts (store normally closes at 10, we were closing at 8 today), and one SC literally passed me by INCHES, coming damn near close to clipping my right foot, then cut us off so she could swing around and park in the handicapped spot.
Then we had about ten clock vultures swoop in within five minutes of closing.
Fortunately, I'd been on the ball with the re-shops earlier, so all that still needed doing when we got the last of the customers out was trash, damages, one cart of re-shops, and some quick cleaning. Not without some more griefing by Herself.
Fuck this so-called holiday.
Capitalism being what it is, it's turned into another excuse for sales and the glut of spending. As a result, while office workers and "coprorate" types get the day off, us retail drones and wage slaves usually have to trudge in to work to deal with all of the shoppers who want to take advantage of sales and the day off to spend money.
And many of them try to sound sympathetic to our plights, telling us "Oh, I'm sooo sorry you have to work today!"
Eh heh. No. No, you're not. If you were really as sorry as you say you are, you would not be out shopping. Especially not at the wholesale club. We don't have sales. We have instant rebates and coupons and such, yes, but those have been in effect for the last week and a half, and will be valid for another week and a half from now. So anything you're buying today, you could have bought tomorrow!
*huff* Today was just ... blech. Swamped with customers-- some sucky, some entitled, some sympathetic without really being sympathetic, some just... there.
Herself was on duty, and griefing about the fact that she had Miss Newbie behind the desk with her (current theory-- Herself feels threatened by Newbie being trained for "her" job), griefing about the fact that Shorty was doing FLS/SCO duties (and not all that well-- but Shorty's new at both jobs, so I forgive her for that), griefing about a lot of little details that really don't call for her raising her voice.
I ended up doing re-shops for most of the shift, and I got asked where <product> was every time I turned around.
The store had a cookout going for the crew today, but due to the circumstances of my schedule, I arrived at the store just after the first batch of burgers had been eaten, and didn't get a break until after the next batch was already gone.
I ended up getting conscripted into throwing out a couple of boxes that a kid had puked in-- because Herself asked Miss Newbie to do it, and Miss Newbie passed the buck to me. I gloved up, got a big trash bag, and-- fighting dry heaves-- bagged the boxes, knotted the bag, and carried it to the back to the dumpster.
Then Hoss and I had carts to do, and we had to dodge traffic, since we were doing it earlier than we usually do carts (store normally closes at 10, we were closing at 8 today), and one SC literally passed me by INCHES, coming damn near close to clipping my right foot, then cut us off so she could swing around and park in the handicapped spot.
Then we had about ten clock vultures swoop in within five minutes of closing.
Fortunately, I'd been on the ball with the re-shops earlier, so all that still needed doing when we got the last of the customers out was trash, damages, one cart of re-shops, and some quick cleaning. Not without some more griefing by Herself.
Fuck this so-called holiday.
when they say that are the ones that say something like:
Right?
He is my Black Dragon (and yes, a good one) strong, protective, the guardian. I am his Silver Dragon, always by his side, shining for him, cherishing him.
Comment