Dec 11, 2005 22:01
Today *dramatic pause* I QUIT! *cue ticker tape parade and marching band*
In fact, I decided this morning, and wrote my letter or resignation during my lunch break.
Over the past week, I'd arrived at the conclusion that I'd just had enough of the place. But it took a while for it to dawn on me that resignation would be the best course of action. I've now worked there three years: I have the dubious honour of being the longest serving Customer Service employee and also happen to be the oldest in the department (woo, what an acheivement). Yet I'm still the only one without "Management Authorisation" (which isn't really such a big deal, it just cuts out a lot of red tape in the everyday chores of Customer Service). But definitely frustrating when it's handed out like candy to staff barely out of probation.
The concept of resignation had been slowly gaining momentum in my thoughts since returning. But both workplaces had their share of frustrations and I had a debt to repay. The shove into gear occured Wednesday, when I was called into the office at DSE to be told, in summary, that I was lazy and unapproachable.
I forget what jargon they used, but they were of the opinion that they had to manage me excessively in the day to day details of my job: reminding me to stand at the door when there weren't any customers to be served (elite "Door Greeter" and "Bag Checker" that I am) or to hop on a register when a queue formed. Standard operating proceedures, which while I might not perform with alacrity 100% of the time, they are done. In recent weeks, my enthusiasm has been somewhat lacking. Jobs to do on our daily checklist were done when the store was quiet. If already completed, my recently formed habit was to stand at the register and let my brain shut down for a while. For the quite simple reason that I was exhausted. Surprisingly, working seven days a week for nearly a month has that effect on a person.
As for being unapproachable, I regularly stood with my arms folded giving the unwary customer the notion that I might not be in the best mood to cater to their every whim. Well, there were two reasons for folding my arms: a) I was cold. The mall has some serious issues with its airconditioning system; and b) I really would rather be at home. Sleeping.
According to the new manager's dogma, during these quiet periods I'm supposed to be cleaning up the gaming cabinets (technically the domain of the computer guys - a.k.a. the laziest beings in the known universe), stocking batteries or facing up bulk displays. Anything at all really, so long as I kept busy. I'm also apparently supposed to grin madly until my muscles lock in place like some strange Joker parody, and converse expansively with every customer who passes through my register. Completely unawares, was I. Considering under the previous store manager's reign, we left Customer Service upon pain of death and that simple conversation was punishable by having our tongues removed. Being, as I was, overseas during this transition, I didn't get the memo.
But yes, I decided, I have been slack for whatever reason. And for the next few shifts I attempted to be this mythical efficient, effervescent being. Until I received eight complaints in three hours from various Customer Service staff about not being where I was required at a specific point in time. On 90% of these occasions I was already on my way to where I was needed when they interrupted my five second walk from point A to point B to berate me. This is especially irritating as the customer service area is not vast by any means. It is only possible for any journey from point A to point B to last more than five seconds if you are blindfolded, walking backwards and exceptionally drunk. God forbid I waste mere seconds of your precious time spent being a consumer whore.
These are only the most recent incidents. As previously described, I have endured multiple shift fuck ups despite repeatedly handing over copies of my roster, massive shift overload, unpleasant environment, and hence no real incentive to do my job.
Before I left for Europe, I basically endured everything because I needed and wanted the money. Now, there's no such restriction. Much debate was had over which job was to go. DSE certainly pays more. But every shift I'm more reluctant to be there. Above all, I need some free time. Not just for myself (Dear god I am so looking forward to having two consecutive days off - you have no idea how giddy the very idea of this makes me), but to investigate the industry I am actually qualified in, in an effort to pursue a career in something less depressing than retail.
So. Who's up for getting blind drunk in celebration this weekend?
rant,
work