THE USUAL
Just about every time I enter the break room over the last couple of days, I see an absolute filthy mess.
I don't mind, really. I don't particularly care. The one thing that bothers me is that the room stays in a filthy condition for hours on end, until the janitorial crew cleans it up at night -- but if I leave my coffee cup out on the counter for ONE LOUSY MINUTE, some do-gooder zealot has to throw it out.
Once they've thrown my cup out, they leave the break room without even touching any of the other filth and trash that piles up in the place across they day. All that stuff doesn't matter to them. Just as long as they throw out my coffee cup. Just gotta do it. It's a divinely decreed imperative from God that I must not have a coffee cup.
There's a male employee who harasses the young women who work at the store. He says all sorts of dirty stuff to them, touches them, and pokes them. The women have complained high and mighty, but for some reason that joke-for-an-employee STILL keeps his job.
They're willing to let a known sexual harasser work for the company, undisciplined, WHILE HEAVEN FORBID I SHOULD LEAVE MY COFFEE CUP ON THE COUNTER FOR SIXTY SECONDS.
I'd say it's time to appeal to a HIGHER POWER. I have my ways. It shall be done.
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