LJ Idol 10: Heel Turn
Charlie wasn't entirely surprised sitting there in Mr P's office, flanked by Denise the HR rep on his right, and Steve, Mr. P's assistant, on his left. Mr P adjusted his glasses and read from the paper in his hands.
Item #1: Being too friendly with subordinates.
“We see you talking with girls more than you should be,” Steve said. “Their productivity is not compliant. Have you looked at your recent numbers?”
Item #2: Not enforcing company policy.
“Two weeks ago I caught your night person drinking a soda,” Steve continued. “Last week your day girls were spoken to more than once about gossiping. They need to be more closely supervised, and I don't mean discussing their boy problems with them.”
Item #3: You have yet to document anybody.
Mr. P peered over his glasses. “Let me reiterate that if you don't document it will potentially be grounds for your dismissal.”
“Why should I document anybody if anybody hasn't done anything wrong?” Charlie said in a small voice.
Denise shook her head. “Oh, Charlie, when I see not reprimanding one of your employees for something we both witnessed? That alone is grounds for me to document you.”
“You know better,” Mr P added. “It's not like you're brand new to management.”
Slap on the wrist with a written warning. Charlie let Denise leave first while Steve stayed behind and closed the door. Around the corner Denise gritted her teeth. “Dammit, Charlie, I TOLD you, game face the minute you walk in here! I TOLD you if you don't develop that game face your ass will be in a sling! What's the matter with you?”
Charlie looked down at his feet. Denise sighed and retreated to her office.
He noticed the girls - Valerie and the new girl he mentally called Kewpie because of her cheeks - huddled together at the bench, giggling at something Kewpie held. The racks of cookies were still at attention next to them, untouched.
“Oh, Charlie, you've got to see this! It's a riot!” Valerie's eyes sparkled.
“Um, you should put that away.”
“Why?” Kewpie asked. “There aren't any customers around.”
Charlie tapped a rack. “I thought you girls were going to package these while I was gone. There's a big hole over there on the shelf.”
“Oh, yeah, we will. But we wanted to see this first,” Valerie said.
Charlie sighed. “Valerie, please, don't do this.”
“Do what? C'mon, I know you want to see this. Hey, what's the matter, Charlie? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I don't want to write either of you up, so please, put the phone away and package the cookies, OK?”
The girls looked at each other. “Write us up? Why?”
Charlie sighed. He grabbed a rack, squeaking-wheeled it over to the bench nearest the bulk case, grabbed a handful of cookie boxes, and started packing. The girls studied him for a moment, then quietly returned to looking down at Valerie's phone.
Charlie coughed. They didn't move. He coughed louder.
Kewpie giggled, “You catching cold there?”
“Are you girls going to help me pack these or what?”
“In a minute,” Valerie intoned. She looked up toward the floor, noticed Denise lingering by the cake case, and quickly slipped the phone into her apron pocket as Kewpie grabbed the second rack of cookies. Charlie looked up, noticed Denise, and gulped.
Denise stood there, looking first at Charlie, then at the girls, back at Charlie.
Charlie took a deep breath, straightened himself, and marched over to the girls. “WHY HAVEN'T THESE COOKIES BEEN PACKED AFTER I ASKED YOU TO DO THEM? WHY?”
The girls stood there, silent.
“I've never heard you yell before,” Valerie murmured.
“WELL MAYBE I SHOULD YELL MORE. NOW GET THESE PACKED AND OUT THERE, NOW!”
Charlie glanced over at Denise but Denise was gone.
The next day, Mr. P's office, this time with Valerie and Kewpie, no Steve, Mr. P leaning back in his chair, listening to Denise.
“He didn't have to yell,” Kewpie said.
“I can't believe he wrote us up,” Valerie added.
Charlie concentrated on a spot behind Mr P's head.
“It doesn't matter,” Denise said. “If Charlie asks you to do something and you don't do it, then yes, he has every right to react and document it.”
“But he could've asked us nicely,” Kewpie said, trying not to pick at her fingernails.
“He did ask you nicely, as you put it,” Denise replied. “Isn't that right, Charlie? He asked you, and when he returned, according to him, not one cookie had been packed because both of you were watching a YouTube video. I saw the whole thing. Isn't that correct, Charlie?”
Charlie kept his gaze on that spot behind Mr P's head as the voices swirled around him.
Item #1: Being too friendly with subordinates.
“We see you talking with girls more than you should be,” Steve said. “Their productivity is not compliant. Have you looked at your recent numbers?”
Item #2: Not enforcing company policy.
“Two weeks ago I caught your night person drinking a soda,” Steve continued. “Last week your day girls were spoken to more than once about gossiping. They need to be more closely supervised, and I don't mean discussing their boy problems with them.”
Item #3: You have yet to document anybody.
Mr. P peered over his glasses. “Let me reiterate that if you don't document it will potentially be grounds for your dismissal.”
“Why should I document anybody if anybody hasn't done anything wrong?” Charlie said in a small voice.
Denise shook her head. “Oh, Charlie, when I see not reprimanding one of your employees for something we both witnessed? That alone is grounds for me to document you.”
“You know better,” Mr P added. “It's not like you're brand new to management.”
Slap on the wrist with a written warning. Charlie let Denise leave first while Steve stayed behind and closed the door. Around the corner Denise gritted her teeth. “Dammit, Charlie, I TOLD you, game face the minute you walk in here! I TOLD you if you don't develop that game face your ass will be in a sling! What's the matter with you?”
Charlie looked down at his feet. Denise sighed and retreated to her office.
He noticed the girls - Valerie and the new girl he mentally called Kewpie because of her cheeks - huddled together at the bench, giggling at something Kewpie held. The racks of cookies were still at attention next to them, untouched.
“Oh, Charlie, you've got to see this! It's a riot!” Valerie's eyes sparkled.
“Um, you should put that away.”
“Why?” Kewpie asked. “There aren't any customers around.”
Charlie tapped a rack. “I thought you girls were going to package these while I was gone. There's a big hole over there on the shelf.”
“Oh, yeah, we will. But we wanted to see this first,” Valerie said.
Charlie sighed. “Valerie, please, don't do this.”
“Do what? C'mon, I know you want to see this. Hey, what's the matter, Charlie? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I don't want to write either of you up, so please, put the phone away and package the cookies, OK?”
The girls looked at each other. “Write us up? Why?”
Charlie sighed. He grabbed a rack, squeaking-wheeled it over to the bench nearest the bulk case, grabbed a handful of cookie boxes, and started packing. The girls studied him for a moment, then quietly returned to looking down at Valerie's phone.
Charlie coughed. They didn't move. He coughed louder.
Kewpie giggled, “You catching cold there?”
“Are you girls going to help me pack these or what?”
“In a minute,” Valerie intoned. She looked up toward the floor, noticed Denise lingering by the cake case, and quickly slipped the phone into her apron pocket as Kewpie grabbed the second rack of cookies. Charlie looked up, noticed Denise, and gulped.
Denise stood there, looking first at Charlie, then at the girls, back at Charlie.
Charlie took a deep breath, straightened himself, and marched over to the girls. “WHY HAVEN'T THESE COOKIES BEEN PACKED AFTER I ASKED YOU TO DO THEM? WHY?”
The girls stood there, silent.
“I've never heard you yell before,” Valerie murmured.
“WELL MAYBE I SHOULD YELL MORE. NOW GET THESE PACKED AND OUT THERE, NOW!”
Charlie glanced over at Denise but Denise was gone.
The next day, Mr. P's office, this time with Valerie and Kewpie, no Steve, Mr. P leaning back in his chair, listening to Denise.
“He didn't have to yell,” Kewpie said.
“I can't believe he wrote us up,” Valerie added.
Charlie concentrated on a spot behind Mr P's head.
“It doesn't matter,” Denise said. “If Charlie asks you to do something and you don't do it, then yes, he has every right to react and document it.”
“But he could've asked us nicely,” Kewpie said, trying not to pick at her fingernails.
“He did ask you nicely, as you put it,” Denise replied. “Isn't that right, Charlie? He asked you, and when he returned, according to him, not one cookie had been packed because both of you were watching a YouTube video. I saw the whole thing. Isn't that correct, Charlie?”
Charlie kept his gaze on that spot behind Mr P's head as the voices swirled around him.