Last night I was supposed to do 7-11pm at my lousy part-time job. As some of you know from previous posts, the place had me miserable. There is nothing worse than working at a place where you are talked down to, but you can’t stand up for yourself because you can’t afford to get fired.
Well, I decided to take the plunge and leave because I can earn that kind of money anywhere. Plus I will most likely wind up in a place where I get better respect. (It would be hard to get LESS than I got there.) So I have gone into free fall because I don’t know how long it will take me to get a second job, but it’s worth a couple weeks of having to keep spending down.
My original plan was to go in 10-15 minutes before my shift started, hand in my hat and shirt, and say, “I won’t need these anymore…bye!” But that seemed too mundane. That would leave them scrambling to cover my shift, which would have been pretty sweet payback on its own. It would have certainly been a ballsy move, but I wanted something better than that.
My mind started to wander, and I hit upon the one thing that made me decide it was time to bail: last Thursday my manager brought to my attention that I had messed up the instant Lotto ticket count, but the funny thing was she criticized me for having done it wrong approximately three times. Well, excuse me, but a GOOD manager would have told their employee about the mistake the FIRST time. After all, if you don’t tell me I’m doing something wrong, I’m going to assume I’m doing it right. In fact, that is the assumption most people would make.
And then an idea came to me. The ultimate revenge. WAY better than just turning my stuff in and leaving.
I sat at home and waited for the store to call me. Around 7:05PM the phone rang, and it was my coworker (to be known here simply as S). Here is the conversation:
S: Is Steve there?
ME: Yeah, this is him.
S: Hi Steve, it’s me from the store. You are supposed to work 7 to close tonight.
ME: Yeah well, here’s the thing about that. You know how I screwed up the Instant Lotto count a couple times?
ME: Right. Well, since the manager didn’t see fit to tell me I had been messing it up until I’d made the same mistake three times, I didn’t see the need to bother telling anyone I quit.
I paused for a moment to see if she had some kind of comeback. There was nothing but silence on the other end of the phone. Let me tell you: there were so many things swirling through my head that I wanted to say…I wanted to go on about what a crappy manager they had there, how I hated the condescension, how I felt sorry for the fact that the only way she got joy out of life was by belittling others…but I chose to take the high road. I’d gotten my message across, and that was all that was needed. So I said “good bye” and hung up.
BOOM! That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call poetic justice.
In all honesty though, I’m glad to be rid of the place. You can be around negativity like that only for so long before it starts to drag YOU down as well. Now it’s over, and I’m glad to move on.