Denouement and the beginning of the end

I have a friend who is an English professor and denouement is one of his favorite literary terms.  Its official definition is "the final part of a play, movie or narrative in which the strands of the plot are drawn together and matters are explained or resolved."  Synonyms are finale, ending, finish or close.  I think that each of these blog entries stands on its own but I also hope that there has been a sort of progression that has made sense or a thread that sort of somehow ties this whole thing together--maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part.  This is the story of the beginning of the end of my time working at the grocery store. 

This doesn't come entirely out of the blue...over the past few weeks or month I have felt that my time at the grocery store has reached its denouement, it's natural ending point and here's why:

In addition to my job at the grocery store I also began working another job.  9:00-5:00 as an administrative assistant in a really nice office but the pay wasn't quiet enough to pay all the bills that keep rolling in so I decided I would hang onto the grocery store job.  I explained to them that I had gotten another job but that I would still be able to work 2 or 3 nights a week there.  So a few nights a week I would finish work at my "day job", duck into the bathroom to change into my grocery store clothes and hop into the car and head over to the grocery store.  Leaving the office I would almost always hit rush hour traffic so it took me a little longer to get there.  I would pull into the grocery store parking lot, dig my sneakers out of the back seat of the car, throw them on and run into the store.  I'm not really complaining about this (well maybe I am just a little bit) but I'll just say those were looonnngg days and leave it at that.  I went right from one job to the other grabbing a sandwich to eat in the car on the way and my priority was really just getting to the second job on time.

The uniform policy of the grocery store is that front end employees are supposed to wear sneakers or rubber soled shoes, black pants and the grocery store shirt, tucked in with a name tag--and I fully admit when running from one job to the other, no, I did not tuck in my shirt and I forgot my name tag about 50% of the time.  So no I didn't tuck my shirt in but I showed up on time and I did my damn job.

So on this particular day I was getting into work and I was working at the customer service desk and came face-to-face with the uniform Nazi.  The Uniform Nazi is a relief manager at the grocery store and training supervisor which means she conducts the interviews and does training with all the new employees.  There is also one or two days a week where she works behind the customer service desk as a customer service associate--which is exactly the same thing I do.  On those days we have the same job title and she is not a manager or supervisor.  Even if she is not actually working when she is just there grocery shopping she will find something wrong with the uniform you're wearing (shoes aren't right, pants are the wrong color, blah blah blah). Normally I tune her out and most of the time it wasn't a problem because I never really saw her and we never worked together.  Recently though it had been a problem because I would come in to relieve her from behind the service desk.  Here is one of my biggest problems with uniform Nazi--she is one of the fake people who smiles to your face and has a voice as sweet as pie and is chipper and cheery but when you turn your back she is a mean and spiteful old bitch.  And that is exactly what she did to me. 

First, she asked me to tuck my shirt in.  I didn't even want to engage her at all and she said it pretty quietly so initially I pretended I didn't hear her (ok, I admit that wasn't the most mature thing to do--but what the hell does she care if my shirt was tucked in since she was off the clock and she was leaving).  She asked me again to tuck it in and to avoid having to have any further conversation with her I sort of half way tucked it in (again maybe not my most mature moment but...) and she walked away.  As I was moving around my shirt came untucked and I just left it that way.  Uniform Nazi came back again and said something about it again and I told her that I had tucked it.  And at this point she is off the clock.  She was not working so what is she telling me to tuck my shirt in for?  She sort of looked at me at walked away.  She started talking to Carrie and told Carrie she wanted to "slap me in the fucking face" for not tucking in my shirt. 

Now I have a few problems with this:  First, I fully admit that I wasn't following the company uniform policy but does saying that you want to slap someone in the fucking face because their shirt isn't tucked in seem a bit excessive to anyone else?  I think maybe she needs to ask herself why an untucked shirt at a fucking grocery store upsets her so much that is threatening to slap someone?  I just don't think something that minor should set you off like that.  Am I wrong?  Second, this chick is in a supervisor/management position and this is how you handle a conflict with a co-worker?  It is never appropriate to talk that way to a co-worker but when you are a manage isn't it your job to resolve conflict in a professional and rational way.  You say you want to slap me in the fucking face?  What do you expect that to accomplish?  I will tell you that this accomplishes NOTHING!!  Does it make me tuck my shirt in?  NO it does not!  And my final thought on this is that you have to give respect to earn respect in return.  You talk like that and you have not earned my respect.  As a matter of fact now my shirt will never be tucked in again just to piss you off.  Finally, I think/ know the store has bigger problems to worry about then whether or not my shirt is tucked in.  Like off the top of my head...just as an example...employees showing up to work high.  I'm not making this up.  There are quiet a few other things too...that was just the one that came to me right away.  So I feel like in the grand scheme of things my shirt is the least of your problems.  When everything else in that store is operating exactly the way it is supposed to, then feel free to come back and talk to me about my shirt.

And that was it...the straw that broke the camel's back.  I put in my two weeks notice about a week later.  Will I ever work in grocery store again?  Well never say never...who knows what will happen in the future but whatever job I end up doing I know that I am willing to work hard but I also know that all employees deserve just a basic level of respect. I remind myself that 98% of the people I have worked with are good, decent people and that the miserable, terrible, horrible people only make up a very small 2%.