Wo Unto You, Scribes, Pharisees, Hypocrites!

The other night one of the team leaders found some soft lines items at the last minute while we were zoning toys. He took them over to the soft lines department so that they could be put away. Technically, the rule is that if you find other departments' returns in your own department and you don't have them delivered at least an hour before closing, you have to put them away yourself. He was fairly new and didn't know that.

Here's the rub -- when anyone brings returns back to soft lines later than an hour before closing, they come absolutely unglued, and throw whiney b*ing tantrums over it. So when this new team leader I just mentioned did his thing, "Miss Beluga" the Soft lines team leader got on the walkie and chewed him out over the air, in front of the whole store.

That really pissed me off.

First off, the rule is that conflicts are supposed to be discussed in private and not on the walkies. Secondly, soft lines is not the only department in the store that has work to do. I'm so tired of their martyr game where they act like they're so picked upon. People bring me late returns all the time. I don't complain because I consider myself a team player and I do what it takes to get the job done.

The very next day, "Mz. Waffleboot" complained to "Miss Beluga" about all the planogram work she left for the stock people to pull on a Saturday morning, when that is the busiest day for the backroom people who have to work incoming freight. The rule is that planograms have to be set before the weekend anyway.

I never really liked "Miss Beluga" to begin with because she is such a whining b* about her department, but when she chewed out someone over the air over late returns, and then left extra work for the back room to do on their busiest day of the week, that really made me dislike her even more.

I said it a million times, and I'll say it again. If I ever become manager of a "big-box" retail store, I swear on a stack of ad circulars I will do everything within my power to make sure whining soft lines people shut the f* up and stay shut up. I will make them haul pallets of pet food or bottled water all day, so they'll learn what *real* work feels like.

A Hazy Shade ofWinter.

We've been having gorgeous Autumn afternoons, just like that Simon and Garfunkle song with the words "hazy shade of winter."

Speaking of gorgeous...I checked in with "Rupert," my co-worker who's love sick for Miss "K," our boss.

"How goes it with Miss blue-eyes?" I asked.

"Actually, they're hazel," he replied, sheepishly. "They're 'mood eyes.' You know, the kind that change tint with her moods." He went on to explain that while speaking with her briefly yesterday, sunlight from the Autumn sunset coming through the front windows shone in them, making them a brilliant emerald green. Yes, he explained, he still gets lost in them.

"Whatever you say, Romeo." I teased him. It all sounded like Romeo's famous line "hark! what light through yonder window breaks? 'Tis the East and Juliet is the sun..."

That evening, I watched Miss "K" give my friend instructions to quickly stock an end-cap at the last minute before everyone was to leave. He dutifully went to fulfill her request. Her wish is his command. It was like watching Helen of Troy, launching a thousand ships with her beauty; or like Annakin Skywalker hopelessly devoted to Padme Amidalla -- she a prestigous Senator, and he a lowly Padawan Jedi.

Ah, yes. That's my buddy Rupert. He's such a doofus.

Ancient Wisdom.

There's an old African proverb that goes something like this:

"When a great ruler passes, bow deeply (and fart silently)"

The last couple of weeks they've assigned the new electronics specialist to be hardlines team leader during the closing shifts. The power has gone completely to his head. He's been going around micro-managing everyone on the floor, even other team leaders who have been with the company for years.

They didn't want me for the position. Fine. Then they hire some guy right off the street with prison tattoos that say "trust no man" and give him the spot sight unseen. I had to answer his questions for a couple of weeks. Now he's in charge of the place. Almost everyone hates this guy. He had a couple of people so pissed off the other night they almost quit on the spot.

I don't know exactly what their beef with me is. I've gone out of my way to be helpful to as many people as possible, I work crazy hours on the weekend, (like closing at midnight, only to return at 5am to hang ad signs) I know more about electronics that this moron, I've been in management in more than one position and place, and they give the position to this bozo.

I need to spend more time in contact with....

The Powers That Be.

S.S.D.D. 24/7

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.

Monkey Business Career Strategy #3

SICK DAYS.

If your boss is a hard nose about "calling in," show up for work really sick. Spread your germs everywhere. Be especially sure to spread your germs on your boss. Breathe and cough all over his office, handle his paperwork with sneezy hands, the whole nine yards. When the jerk gets sick and has to call in for himself, rub it in. Tell him that you came to work sick, so what's the problem?

According to Forbes Online, some companies are having a problem with sickees actually showing up.

While hard to believe, there are the gung-ho employees who insist on being at work even if they're terminally ill. Companies actually had to find ways to dissuade these workers from showing up. Who knew? A survey conducted by CCH, a human resources information company, dubbed this behavior "presenteeism," and found that 54% of employers urge workers to stay home when sick, while 40% educate workers on the importance of staying home when sick. If you're lucky enough, you work for the 9% of employers who offer more sick days just to be safe.

(read interactive article here.) [link]

AH! C'est L'amour....

My coworker "Rupert" is in love with one of our managers, "K"

"K" is one of those women with a quiet, sweet demeanor, but wherever she goes you can always sense her solid, grounded, "mother earth" type presence, like an oak in the forest, but with singing birds in the canopy. Pretty and demure on the outside, intelligence and a tower of strength on the inside.

"K" has a set of big blue puppy-dog eyes. "Rupert" always tells me "Her eyes are as deep and blue as the ocean, and I tell you, everytime I look into them I'm lost at sea...."

"K" also happens to be a married mother of two, and that just makes her all the more adoreable for him. "Rupert" just LOVES caring, kind, and sensitive domestic types. He knows that for him it is all impossible, because he and she are both taken, and they're coworkers, but nary a day goes by when I don't spot him dreaming, pining for her.

It's really funny. When she comes up to give him instructions, he tenses up like a deer in the headlights, and he can barely stammer out a response. He then tells her "yes ma'am," and he'll move heaven and earth to get her orders done. That a slight, five foot woman can have such sway over a big, almost six foot man is just too cute for words!

It's a shame that such attractions happen like that, without hope of fulfilment. Ah, such is love.

If Wishes Were Horses, Beggars Would Ride

COFFEE CUP WARS, PART THREE.

It's really hilarious when you watch beauty pageants, and they ask the contestants what they wish for most. The girls will demurely purr while batting their oversize lashes over their puppy-dog eyes, and they'll say things like "world peace," "Thanksgiving with my grandma who passed away," and other such drippy syrup.

I confess I only have myself to blame for screwing my life up and ending up working retail at age 41, when I could have been an engineer or an attorney if I had run my life properly. It's my own fault, so I don't expect much now.

The one thing I really, really wish I could have, that I would even take less pay and a demotion for, is the simple human dignity of being able to keep a coffee cup of my own by my workspace and leave it there, unmolested and in peace, without somebody zealously throwing it out because it's against the rules. My own team leaders leave their KFC drink cups behind the camera counter, but freaking heaven forbid I should leave my ceramic coffee cup back there and someone just has to throw it out. A fellow employee was kind enough to spot my cup and grab it for me before it got sent out with the trash this evening

God Dammit.

It's a simple thing, really. It's not like I'm demanding they organize a union, or give me a month's paid vacation for cryin' out loud. A simple coffee cup. That's all I ask. A simple, f* coffee cup. What would it hurt them? They sit in their leather chairs, collect their six figure salaries and stock options, vacation in The Hamptons or Martha's Vinyard, but they can't allow me the simple human dignity of having a coffee cup where I work?

WTF?

Is it necessary for me to sell my soul to get a career where I can be considered enough of a legitimate human being to keep a coffee cup nearby, without someone throwing it out?

You're on MY turf, bub.

Since corporate has gotten uptight about the number of times customers have been pushing the help buttons in the store, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I decided to come out from behind the camera counter and establish a defensive perimeter around the call button on the counter.

I stand out in the middle of the aisle in front of the button and I annoy the living daylights of every customer who passes by it with syrupy-cheerful service and conversation. Anything to keep them away from the button. I suggest other products and direct them to areas AWAY from the button. Nobody's gonna push that button while I'M on duty, come heck or high water.

Naturally, management in their infinite wisdom, comes up with yet another way to complicate my job. While I'm trying to defend the call button with assertive guest service, a manager trainee comes by and orders me to go straighten the halloween costumes all the way at the other side of the store. I had to explain to her that the other managers told me I couldn't leave the camera counter because our call button numbers are in the red (which they have). She gave me a sideways look, and said "so you're saying that's not your department?"

Jeez. Don't sass me lady. Just because I've been stuck in retail since before you were born doesn't give you the right to treat me like an idiot. Just to be nice, I did what she wanted me to do, and went down to the seasonal aisle to straighten. No sooner had I gotten there when someone pushed the call button at the electronics counter.

Dammit. Another button push on the corporate report.

So, I had to high tail it back over to electronics. I try to do what I'm told, and I can't win. What do I have to do to get one of those jobs where I can sit in a leather chair, earn six figures, and shout at store managers over stuff I haven't the foggiest clue about in reality?

Monkey Business Career Strategy #2

"I took my daughter to 'Bring Your Children to Work Day,' " Joe said.

"She did nothing but gab on the phone, surf the Internet, and pretend to be doing things."

He shook his head. "Boy, these kids sure get the hang of office life quickly."

(stolen from www.fastcompany.com)

Monkey Business Career Stragegy part 1

Q: How can you tell if your company is strapped for cash?

A: When the H.R. department mentions that among the perks there's an opportunity to participate in the employee football betting pool.

Monkey Business Management Secret #21

MOTIVATION

The boss sent his secretary to get him a coffee.
She was upset, and said she wanted more responsibility.
So he said "Okay, get me a Danish too."


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(stolen shamelessly from www.fastcompany.com)

Monkey Business Management Secret #20

How to handle a Bear Market

Here's some nice little tips for market timing that I read over on another blog:

http://corporatecartoons.blogspot.com/2007/08/how-to-handle-bear-market.html

This Place Is A Pain...

The other night at work I stood up from a squatting position as I was zoning the shelves in the toy department. As I did so, I stepped wrong with my left leg, and as a result for the past several days my leg has been hurting, sometimes awfully, in the shin area, deep into the bone. It's really sore and the bone is tender. At the end of my shift it can become excruciating at times, such that I can't even walk. The weird thing is that once I get home, the pain goes away and I can walk.

Here's the interesting part -- last night I dreamed that Sherlock Holmes spoke to me. He said "look alive, Watson! there's dirty work afoot!" (the pun obviously a Freudian symbol) Then I saw a vision of a certain co-worker I've always had trouble with. I saw her holding a voodoo doll with my name on it. She stabbed the left leg with a huge pin, and stuffed cotton into the little mouth (probably referring to the cold I've been trying to shake for two weeks.)

This vision changed to a scene in a deep forest under a full moon, where I was standing in the center of a circle of huge stones. A big man came from out of the forest, and told me his name was "Grand Bay-wah" He wore a big coat and a Masonic Apron. He struck his staff upon the ground, thunder rumbled, and I started to hear the problematic coworker screaming, smoking, shrinking, and disappearing into the ground, just like the witch in The Wizard of Oz.

I woke up and I thought to myself "jeez man, can this get any weirder?"

"My Mamma Always Told Me...."

"STUPID IS, AS STUPID DOES...." As I deal with the kind of people I had to deal with today, all I can do is shake my head in utter disbelief. Just like ol' Forrest Gump.

If I were to go to Stephen Hawking and demand that he teach me Astrophysics in the space of an hour, I'm sure he would laugh at me so hard he would fall out of his wheel chair.

Continuing that analogy, today I had to deal with a steady stream of people demanding that I give them full educations in consumer electronics in the space of 30 seconds or less, about the length of their lazy, ignorant attention spans.

I'm talking people who are completely ignorant of all things techno, and they are too lazy or stubborn to learn enough about the products to know what they want. They want me to sell them. I'm sorry, but since I earn slightly above minimum wage, and not a proper salesman's commission, HOMEY DON'T PLAY DAT.

How does one explain to a fifty year old "Lawrence Welk" hold-over the difference between "digital" and "analog?" She demanded to know what it was because the words appeared on the product box. Lady, it doesn't matter. Just buy the damn phone and leave me alone.

Another lady held me up for fifteen minutes asking a rapid fire series of questions about the digital cameras, looking at me like I was speaking a foreign language as I desperately tried to explain the features in words small enough for her to understand. She insisted on taking notes, demanding that I repeat myself. Each answer I gave engendered three or more new questions, or at least a blank stare accompanied with the words "now, what is that?" All the while I was thinking to myself "puh-LEEEZE lady, can you go be stupid someplace else?"

While I was dealing with her, another guest was standing there with $350 burning a hole in his pocket waiting to be rung up for the VCR/DVD-R combo he wanted to buy. Finally the stupid b* let go of me and she left without buying a single thing. I apologized profusely to the VCR guest as I rung up his purchase.

I believe it was comedian Ron White who said that nowadays you can fix just about anything, like teeth, noses, breasts, abs, you name it. It's just that you can't fix stupid.

Zombie Retail Workers, News at 11 (part 2)

I've been battling a bad flu for close to three weeks now. I need to go to the doctor, but I work in retail, so that's obviously out of the question. (The company sent me a sign-up package for insurance -- yeah, like I can afford the premiums after I support my four kids. I don't get paid like the stuffed shirt college preppy executives who sit in their leather chairs, look at our numbers, and hand down rulings and reprimands without the slightest clue of what we have to deal with on the sales floor.)

I really have a difficult time working. Most days I'm totally exhausted from lack of sleep at night, because I can't breathe. Cold medicines don't even touch it. My face is ashen and pale, my eyes have huge rings around them -- I look absolutely ridiculous. Straight out of the movies.

Today I fell asleep while standing behind the camera counter. I've been gulping down a steady stream of Echinacea, vitamin C, chicken soup, and orange juice. I'm just going to have to try to sleep more, and take long steaming showers. Soon I will go speak with The Elders, and ask them for an Anointing.

I'm hoping this won't develop into pneumonia like it once did a few years ago. In which case, I'll have to go to an emergency room for X-rays and industrial strength antibiotics. I don't relish the thought. Half the time antibiotics make me feel worse than what they're curing.

As the Navajo say, when one is lost and can't find the way, turn within. I'm going to have to take some time and do some serious spiritual journeying, and perform a Cleansing. Then, I will try to ascertain whether or not I am the target of any directed spiritual malevolence. If that is indeed the case, then we'll see how this plays out, after I get done with what I can do.

[Numbers chap 21, vs 6-9]

"He who hath ears to hear, let him hear."