The Scoop
So, okay, my first day at work was a nightmare. (Firstly, I should explain that where I work is a gargantuan tourist attraction. As well as it should be because it's in the dead center of the Garden of the Gods. There is, however, and I didn't know this at first, a second location along the strip of the downtown historic Manitou Springs district. The first location is a madhouse and the second is at a snail's pace.)
I was trained at the Manitou Springs outlet (the slow store) and I wasn't fully expecting my boss to be a creepy bitch. Thinking about her enrages the hell out of me. She's one of those people with a superiority complex, doesn't listen to you when you strike up a conversation because, obviously, the world revolves around her and so, therefore, only when she starts up a conversation is it a worthwhile experience. The first thing out of her mouth was an insult about my attire. Forgive me for not having the proper uniform you wrinkly, old fuck. Gee whiz, it was only my FIRST day on the job, how the hell would I have known what to wear? And it wasn't as though I wore anything horrendous or offensive. (Unless there's something about black pants and green t-shirts that I should know about).
The next issue was about where I parked. Heaven's above, you'd think I had said, "I walked here from the moon." when I told her I used the public parking down the street. "You walked?" (Gasp! I walked!) "We have our own parking." she says in an 'everyone-knows-that' type way while throwing her arms up in a surrendering gesture as if to say, "You're hopeless and so not worth my time!"
Bitch... Oh, and she showed me the shop's 'parking'...if you could call it that. Pitiful really. You have to remember the buildings along the Manitou strip are over 100 years old so, the parking for employees was a muddy, dirt road at the end of a tight alley. Only two cars can fit and two cars were already there so, where the hell was I supposed to park?
The day didn't get any better. I caught on to the register pretty quick (ghetto register...you have to manually figure out the change and I have never, EVER been good with numbers and when she noticed my hesitation, she embarassed me in front of customers, "What, can't you count?" and then, after the line dies, she pulls me aside and says, very darkly, and overly serious, "You need to learn to count. There is a way the register can help you figure it out, but I would rather you learn how to count." OMFG! I wanted to smack her. I'm not an idiot. I may not be good with numbers, but that doesn't make me a cousin marrying retard. And where does she get off lecturing me? She's not a teacher and I'm many things, but I'm certainly not a dumb ass elementary school kid that needs reprimanding. JESUS!)
Anyways, I was great with the customers (even if I do say so myself), cleaned up the front, put stuff away, made commission on two items, and all the while she was leering over my shoulder, criticizing my every move. I made the mistake of cracking my knuckles. Lord, you'd think the world had just been coated in fish guts. "Don't do that." she says, closing her eyes tightly as if it's a strain to look at me, "It annoys me and it's bad for you." I swear, if I didn't work for this woman I would've said, "Oh, gee, thanks mom." or "Oh, woe is you! My cracking knuckles to much strain on itty-bitty baby?" or both. Both, I think. Yes.
We then sat down in the office and discussed day off requests and such. She stressed the day off requests, giving me the evil eye whenever she brought it up as if I were an unreliable pig and looking to slack off every chance I could. Then we discussed earrings and she, again, stressed that lip rings and nose rings would not be tolerated. I have neither and don't want either so I don't know why this was a major issue with her. Maybe to her I look like an untrustworthy rebel. *shrugs* Then, and this REALLY bugged me, she says, and she wasn't joking, "If you have any supremist tattoos you will hide them or lose your job." At this, she got up and left the office. And I'm sitting there going, holy hell, what was that about? Do I look like a slacking, sporadic piercing, white supremist? Do I talk like one? Smell like one? Wow. The woman thinks she knows everything about me (she's dead wrong in her assumptions), but she hates me. I don't know why, but she hates me. So, that was manager number one that I dealt with.
Second day of work, I was at the busy store and the manager there is awesome. He's pleasant anyway...a massive improvement over the first day. I LOVE the busy store! Tons of things to do, loads of people to talk to, and lots of fellow associates around. Time flies and it actually is fun. So, yes, I hope to work there MUCH more often so I don't have to deal with mega bitch. Which is a shame because I love Manitou Springs and enjoyed strolling around on my lunch break, visualizing things for my book (cuz that's where a character of mine lives). Eh, whatever. Job's got nice perks too. Fountain drinks = FREE, bottled drinks and food = 50% off, items purchased with cash or check = 40% off, items purchased with credit or debit = 35% off, and family and friends get 20% off...good, huh? (At Petco I only got 20% off purchases). So far, except for the first day which put a huge damper on everything, the job's going well. :)
I was trained at the Manitou Springs outlet (the slow store) and I wasn't fully expecting my boss to be a creepy bitch. Thinking about her enrages the hell out of me. She's one of those people with a superiority complex, doesn't listen to you when you strike up a conversation because, obviously, the world revolves around her and so, therefore, only when she starts up a conversation is it a worthwhile experience. The first thing out of her mouth was an insult about my attire. Forgive me for not having the proper uniform you wrinkly, old fuck. Gee whiz, it was only my FIRST day on the job, how the hell would I have known what to wear? And it wasn't as though I wore anything horrendous or offensive. (Unless there's something about black pants and green t-shirts that I should know about).
The next issue was about where I parked. Heaven's above, you'd think I had said, "I walked here from the moon." when I told her I used the public parking down the street. "You walked?" (Gasp! I walked!) "We have our own parking." she says in an 'everyone-knows-that' type way while throwing her arms up in a surrendering gesture as if to say, "You're hopeless and so not worth my time!"
Bitch... Oh, and she showed me the shop's 'parking'...if you could call it that. Pitiful really. You have to remember the buildings along the Manitou strip are over 100 years old so, the parking for employees was a muddy, dirt road at the end of a tight alley. Only two cars can fit and two cars were already there so, where the hell was I supposed to park?
The day didn't get any better. I caught on to the register pretty quick (ghetto register...you have to manually figure out the change and I have never, EVER been good with numbers and when she noticed my hesitation, she embarassed me in front of customers, "What, can't you count?" and then, after the line dies, she pulls me aside and says, very darkly, and overly serious, "You need to learn to count. There is a way the register can help you figure it out, but I would rather you learn how to count." OMFG! I wanted to smack her. I'm not an idiot. I may not be good with numbers, but that doesn't make me a cousin marrying retard. And where does she get off lecturing me? She's not a teacher and I'm many things, but I'm certainly not a dumb ass elementary school kid that needs reprimanding. JESUS!)
Anyways, I was great with the customers (even if I do say so myself), cleaned up the front, put stuff away, made commission on two items, and all the while she was leering over my shoulder, criticizing my every move. I made the mistake of cracking my knuckles. Lord, you'd think the world had just been coated in fish guts. "Don't do that." she says, closing her eyes tightly as if it's a strain to look at me, "It annoys me and it's bad for you." I swear, if I didn't work for this woman I would've said, "Oh, gee, thanks mom." or "Oh, woe is you! My cracking knuckles to much strain on itty-bitty baby?" or both. Both, I think. Yes.
We then sat down in the office and discussed day off requests and such. She stressed the day off requests, giving me the evil eye whenever she brought it up as if I were an unreliable pig and looking to slack off every chance I could. Then we discussed earrings and she, again, stressed that lip rings and nose rings would not be tolerated. I have neither and don't want either so I don't know why this was a major issue with her. Maybe to her I look like an untrustworthy rebel. *shrugs* Then, and this REALLY bugged me, she says, and she wasn't joking, "If you have any supremist tattoos you will hide them or lose your job." At this, she got up and left the office. And I'm sitting there going, holy hell, what was that about? Do I look like a slacking, sporadic piercing, white supremist? Do I talk like one? Smell like one? Wow. The woman thinks she knows everything about me (she's dead wrong in her assumptions), but she hates me. I don't know why, but she hates me. So, that was manager number one that I dealt with.
Second day of work, I was at the busy store and the manager there is awesome. He's pleasant anyway...a massive improvement over the first day. I LOVE the busy store! Tons of things to do, loads of people to talk to, and lots of fellow associates around. Time flies and it actually is fun. So, yes, I hope to work there MUCH more often so I don't have to deal with mega bitch. Which is a shame because I love Manitou Springs and enjoyed strolling around on my lunch break, visualizing things for my book (cuz that's where a character of mine lives). Eh, whatever. Job's got nice perks too. Fountain drinks = FREE, bottled drinks and food = 50% off, items purchased with cash or check = 40% off, items purchased with credit or debit = 35% off, and family and friends get 20% off...good, huh? (At Petco I only got 20% off purchases). So far, except for the first day which put a huge damper on everything, the job's going well. :)