Monday, December 12, 2011
Karma is not your friend, buddy
We have two new employees! Good GRAVY, I had no idea how tiresome they would be. Now don't get me wrong: so far, there's nothing inherently WRONG with either one of them, just that they are so freaking GREEN, and it's question question question question question all FUCKING DAY. Seriously, neither one of them can work independently for more than 5 minutes without needing someone to rescue them. They won't answer the phones, they won't take initiative to do anything without being told. It's laborious.
First, we have Louis. I call him that because he vaguely reminds me of Louis CK. Vaguely. Mostly in the hairline. But the hairline is deceptive, folks: Louis is under 30. Exact age is irrelevant at this point, as he represents the 6th 20-something male that Boss has hired IN A ROW over the past 2 years. 6 of 7 hires since the day I was hired. Louis used to manage a chain steak restaurant here in town. The place where several of our customers worked and were found fortnightly on the police reports for driving drunk and getting caught with pot. He talks almost constantly of how many people he knows that can provide him with drugs. His roommate is a dealer. I should not know these things after only working with him for two weeks.
Second, we have Tiffany. Tiffany, Tiffany, Tiffany. Tiffany could not believe that I was old enough to have a 13 year old daughter--did I have her when I was a teen? No, I was 29, thanks. "Oh, I was seventeen when mine was born." Her child is still a baby. Tiffany just graduated high school. I finally get a second female to work with, and she's a teen mom. Shoot me. Ugh--that's probably not fair to her, but dammit, I'm tired of feeling like everybody's MOTHER. When she learned my age, Tiffany said, "Oh, my MOM's 43. She looks WAYYYY older than you."
I really want to like Tiffany. And if she keeps up comments like that, she may win me over. But the questions. Good lord the questions. I raised two kids and got them through preschool without so damned many questions! It turns out we were really, really spoiled with D-Rod. He learned super-fast and was super-motivated. We didn't know how good we had it. And with two of them at the same time, it is the most sanity-taxing thing I have ever known.
So, bear with me, this story will require some detailed and tiresome exposition to get through, but I promise there's a payoff!
Tuesday's schedule:
S-hole and J open.
D-ball is a mid-shift.
Boss and Tiff close.
Louis and I are off.
Wednesday's schedule:
Louis and I open.
Tiff is a mid-shift.
S-hole and D-ball close.
Boss and J are off.
Saturday's schedule:
Boss, J, Louis and I all work the same shift (a 9 hour day, our hours are shorter on Saturday).
Wednesday morning, I open with Louis. This is a nearly impossible feat: opening work is a LOT more intensive and time-sensitive than closing work, and Louis needs constant hand-holding. Naturally, that means we get super-busy AND I have to open an account. He interrupts me every 5 minutes to ask for help on the transactions he's creeping through. Between customers, instead of doing the morning work I'd assigned him, he stares serenely off into space or watches TV (we have a 42 inch TV on the back wall playing ESPN for our customer's entertainment and to goad people into looking up into the security cameras). He gets almost literally nothing done and does his best to prevent me from completing anything, too. Midway through, Louis relays a message: Boss called and informs me that S-hole has called off, could I work an all-day shift and close tonight? Why the FUCK not. 12 hour shifts are cake, right? Tiff rolls in shortly afterward, and things slow down even more. I literally cannot walk from one side of the branch to the other without being stopped with a question. Breathe in, breathe out, white fluffy clouds. It's 12 o'clock when D-ball gets in for his shift, and only half of the morning work is done because nobody will do it without me standing over them step-by-step. Seriously, people: a list of phone calls does not need step-by-step instructions. "Call these people and tell them they have something being rejected today." should be all it takes. I inform D-ball of the schedule change. He goes all slanty-eyed and smirky. Turns out that the day prior, while I was off, Boss called in and asked S-hole to close for him (so S-hole had to work a 12-hour shift). S-hole agreed only if Boss would work his shift on Wednesday. S-hole did not call in. Boss was just choosing to not show up. I was PISSED. No, PISSED isn't even the right level of how fucking insane I wanted to get on Boss's pathetic ass. I texted S-hole and informed him of the development. He joined me in my ire, and apologized, but he'd already dismissed the babysitter plans and couldn't come in. Not his fault at all. "Don't worry," I told him, "I'm gonna shaft him on Saturday." As I predicted, Wednesday was fucking CRAZY--busier than I'd hoped, and then multiplied by the fact that D-ball and I were not only doing all the work ourselves, but having those two newbies made it more like having ten extra customers there all fucking day.
So Friday night rolls around and I type up an elaborate text, then set my alarm for 3am. It goes off, I wake up and send Boss the text informing him that I'd overdone it trying to decorate for Christmas and my Fibro was acting up, I hadn't been able to sleep at all yet, and I was going to have to take a narcotic to get comfortable enough, and there was no way I could come in tomorrow, but please call me if he needed anything.
7am rolls around, and D-ball texts me: "lol you and j called in... Lets see how boss likes workin just him and a newbie"
Me: "Oh damn, karma's a bitch!"
D-ball: "He already texted me and i think s-hole saying if we could come in asap today, to do so.... Needless to say, I wont be going in. lol"
That evening, I got the giddiest feeling reading the "final bell" (the text we customarily send out to all our co-workers reporting the volume of work we'd done for the day)... For the 4 or 5 previous Saturdays we'd opened anywhere from 1-3 accounts, maybe 4 if it were busy. This Saturday, Boss opened 6 all by himself. Poor thing, I hope he didn't strain anything.
First, we have Louis. I call him that because he vaguely reminds me of Louis CK. Vaguely. Mostly in the hairline. But the hairline is deceptive, folks: Louis is under 30. Exact age is irrelevant at this point, as he represents the 6th 20-something male that Boss has hired IN A ROW over the past 2 years. 6 of 7 hires since the day I was hired. Louis used to manage a chain steak restaurant here in town. The place where several of our customers worked and were found fortnightly on the police reports for driving drunk and getting caught with pot. He talks almost constantly of how many people he knows that can provide him with drugs. His roommate is a dealer. I should not know these things after only working with him for two weeks.
Second, we have Tiffany. Tiffany, Tiffany, Tiffany. Tiffany could not believe that I was old enough to have a 13 year old daughter--did I have her when I was a teen? No, I was 29, thanks. "Oh, I was seventeen when mine was born." Her child is still a baby. Tiffany just graduated high school. I finally get a second female to work with, and she's a teen mom. Shoot me. Ugh--that's probably not fair to her, but dammit, I'm tired of feeling like everybody's MOTHER. When she learned my age, Tiffany said, "Oh, my MOM's 43. She looks WAYYYY older than you."
I really want to like Tiffany. And if she keeps up comments like that, she may win me over. But the questions. Good lord the questions. I raised two kids and got them through preschool without so damned many questions! It turns out we were really, really spoiled with D-Rod. He learned super-fast and was super-motivated. We didn't know how good we had it. And with two of them at the same time, it is the most sanity-taxing thing I have ever known.
So, bear with me, this story will require some detailed and tiresome exposition to get through, but I promise there's a payoff!
Tuesday's schedule:
S-hole and J open.
D-ball is a mid-shift.
Boss and Tiff close.
Louis and I are off.
Wednesday's schedule:
Louis and I open.
Tiff is a mid-shift.
S-hole and D-ball close.
Boss and J are off.
Saturday's schedule:
Boss, J, Louis and I all work the same shift (a 9 hour day, our hours are shorter on Saturday).
Wednesday morning, I open with Louis. This is a nearly impossible feat: opening work is a LOT more intensive and time-sensitive than closing work, and Louis needs constant hand-holding. Naturally, that means we get super-busy AND I have to open an account. He interrupts me every 5 minutes to ask for help on the transactions he's creeping through. Between customers, instead of doing the morning work I'd assigned him, he stares serenely off into space or watches TV (we have a 42 inch TV on the back wall playing ESPN for our customer's entertainment and to goad people into looking up into the security cameras). He gets almost literally nothing done and does his best to prevent me from completing anything, too. Midway through, Louis relays a message: Boss called and informs me that S-hole has called off, could I work an all-day shift and close tonight? Why the FUCK not. 12 hour shifts are cake, right? Tiff rolls in shortly afterward, and things slow down even more. I literally cannot walk from one side of the branch to the other without being stopped with a question. Breathe in, breathe out, white fluffy clouds. It's 12 o'clock when D-ball gets in for his shift, and only half of the morning work is done because nobody will do it without me standing over them step-by-step. Seriously, people: a list of phone calls does not need step-by-step instructions. "Call these people and tell them they have something being rejected today." should be all it takes. I inform D-ball of the schedule change. He goes all slanty-eyed and smirky. Turns out that the day prior, while I was off, Boss called in and asked S-hole to close for him (so S-hole had to work a 12-hour shift). S-hole agreed only if Boss would work his shift on Wednesday. S-hole did not call in. Boss was just choosing to not show up. I was PISSED. No, PISSED isn't even the right level of how fucking insane I wanted to get on Boss's pathetic ass. I texted S-hole and informed him of the development. He joined me in my ire, and apologized, but he'd already dismissed the babysitter plans and couldn't come in. Not his fault at all. "Don't worry," I told him, "I'm gonna shaft him on Saturday." As I predicted, Wednesday was fucking CRAZY--busier than I'd hoped, and then multiplied by the fact that D-ball and I were not only doing all the work ourselves, but having those two newbies made it more like having ten extra customers there all fucking day.
So Friday night rolls around and I type up an elaborate text, then set my alarm for 3am. It goes off, I wake up and send Boss the text informing him that I'd overdone it trying to decorate for Christmas and my Fibro was acting up, I hadn't been able to sleep at all yet, and I was going to have to take a narcotic to get comfortable enough, and there was no way I could come in tomorrow, but please call me if he needed anything.
7am rolls around, and D-ball texts me: "lol you and j called in... Lets see how boss likes workin just him and a newbie"
Me: "Oh damn, karma's a bitch!"
D-ball: "He already texted me and i think s-hole saying if we could come in asap today, to do so.... Needless to say, I wont be going in. lol"
That evening, I got the giddiest feeling reading the "final bell" (the text we customarily send out to all our co-workers reporting the volume of work we'd done for the day)... For the 4 or 5 previous Saturdays we'd opened anywhere from 1-3 accounts, maybe 4 if it were busy. This Saturday, Boss opened 6 all by himself. Poor thing, I hope he didn't strain anything.
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