All good things...

They say all good things must come to an end...well, I don't know how many of you think this blog is any good...but I think it has been a good thing for me and it is at the end.  I would say that my goal when I started doing this a year ago was to write about the good, the bad and the ugly of being a cashier--but mostly it was for my amusement, a creative outlet and a way to stop myself from going crazy with boredom while I was at work.  For those of you who have followed along with me and maybe even sympathized a little, I can't say thanks enough for helping to play a part in keeping my sanity!  I hope you enjoyed it or found it helpful or funny or something...

So, now all that's left is to leave you with the "wrap-up":  I finally, finally, finally got a "real" full-time legal job.  I'm a paralegal again!  I'm nervous and excited and grateful--I really don't know what to expect or if I'm even going to like the job but I think everyone goes through that when you are about to start a new job.  Bill collectors rejoice because the check is coming in the mail--Really, I mean it!

For those of you out there looking for your dream job (or any job) hang in there, don't give up and keep chasing the dream because it's out there!  For those of you stuck in a job you hate...just remember your job is what you do...it's not who you are.  If you really hate your job try to use that as motivation to try to find something better.  And most importantly...always be nice to your cashier at the grocery store.

Thanks again, guys! 

Dear Grocery Store,

After the incident I felt a little helpless.  I really felt like what had happened was wrong but I couldn't figure out what to do to make the situation any better or improve working conditions for other people.  I thought about what I wanted to do so that she wouldn't get away with behavior like this in the future.  After a while a thought to myself...well you want to be a writer so use your words and write.  I definitely knew I was going to write about it here but I also wrote a letter to people in the corporate office.  I don't know that it will have any impact or make any difference at all but it made me feel better that I had taken some sort of action.  Maybe eventually I will decide that writing a letter just isn't enough and I will go all Norma Rae but for now it's enough.  So here is a draft of the letter that I sent to the corporate office. 
 
Dear Grocery Store,

I began working at Grocery Store part time as a cashier and I recently left when I received a full-time job offer.  However, even with another full time job I might have continued to work at Grocery Store part time (maybe a few evenings a week or a weekend morning) because I need the extra money--instead I quit and I am writing to make you aware of the event that actually led to my giving 2 weeks notice. 

One evening when I came into work one of the relief managers was actually scheduled to work behind the desk as a customer service associate.  She was not scheduled as a supervisor or manager.  I came in to relieve her as the next customer service associate scheduled behind the desk.  She noticed that my shirt was not tucked in properly so she asked me to tuck it in.  As she was getting ready to leave for the day she told another employee that she "wanted to slap me in fucking face" because my shirt wasn't tucked in.  I would hope you would agree that this in NEVER an appropriate response to a disagreement or conflict between two co-workers but this came from someone that your company has chosen to place in a management position in one of your stores.  As a manager profanity and thinly veiled threats made against an employee should never be acceptable or tolerated.  Perhaps she was merely venting her anger.  Perhaps she was frustrated but a necessary part of acting in a supervisory position is the ability to communicate in a constructive and productive way even if you are frustrated by a situation.  Certainly indicating that you want to "slap someone in the fucking face" is not an effective way to resolve a problem with another employee.  After that incident I decided that I did not want to work in that type of environment anymore and I gave my two weeks notice to the store manager about a week later.

You will notice that I did not mention which store I worked at or the name of the relief manager who was involved in this incident.  The reason for that is that in spite of her inappropriate behavior my goal is not for there to be any sort of disciplinary action or to rehash the event.  Rather, my ultimate goal is to have you read this letter and seriously evaluate your process for how you select mangers of your grocery store and how you train them to interact with employees.  How your managers treat and interact with the employees in their department is important because the managers and supervisors are the face of your stores.  They set the tone for the store and they need to treat all fellow employees with respect.  I believe that when employees are treated fairly and with respect then customer service is better and I know providing good customer service is your ultimate goal. 

I hope this letter will have you begin to consider how to make Grocery Store a better place to work for all of your employees. Thank you for your time and I hope you find a way to address this situation, perhaps through training or evaluation practices so that incidents like this will not happen to any employees in the future. 

Sincerely,

Concerned Cashier

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%.

Catch 22

As I was searching through countless job postings I noticed that recently many of the jobs I was looking at that I would be really interested in required 5-7 years of experience.  It seems like a classic Catch 22 situation to me.  I didn't have 5-7 years experience because I couldn't find a job.  But how was I supposed to get the experience when I couldn't find a job because no one would hire me because I didn't have enough experience.  It just sort of goes round and round.  I was wondering if recent graduates or people thinking about changing careers are coming across the same roadblock?  Is this happening to you too?  How do you overcome the lack of experience problem? 

(Giving) blood, sweat and tears

I was recently reading a book about looking for a job.  It said that doing a "self-assessment" was important when looking for a job.  Doing an honest evaluation of your strengths and weaknesses helps in finding a job that is the best fit for you.  So here goes:

I am not a genius but I am not totally stupid.  I am well-educated and articulate (I hope).  I am friendly and I like to help people.  I am terrible at math.  I have much less tolerance for rude and ignorant people then I used to.  I am willing to work hard.  I am punctual.  So listing these qualities I would think that I would be able to find a fairly decent job out there...somewhere.  As I have mentioned (numerous times) before my hours at the grocery store had become increasingly erratic and I have been looking for another job--either a second part time job or (preferably) a full time job.  I spend time on the Internet sending out job applications and resumes.  I have been on a few job interviews...blah, blah blah.

I recently went on an interview at an office supply store.  The interview actually went really well.  They asked me the pretty standard questions.  I was intereviewed by two store managers and they really seemed to like the answers I gave to their questions.  I told them about my customer service experience and I told them how much I really loved office supplies (which is acutally 100% totally true--I can't explain it).  They asked me what my availability was and I told them.  It all seemed like it would be a pretty good fit.  So then the manager, Sara, says "the next step in the hiring process is the drug screening and then we can have you come in for training."  She said that every person has to take a drug test before they get hired.  Now, first I would just like to state for the record that I don't take drugs.  I don't even take Tylenol when I have a headache.  I don't take medicine when I have a cold.  My point is that I had no reason not to take a drug test--other then the fact that it is incredibly invasive, demeaning and offensive.  What the company is saying (before a potential new employee has even started working there) is that right from the start we are going to assume that you are using drugs and you have to prove to us that you are not.  Well, sorry buddy I'm not going to give you a blood sample or pee in a cup or whatever it is you have to do for a job selling office supplies at $8.15 an hour.  Has everyone lost their fucking minds?!?  I would just be a cashier ringing up paperclips and binders.  I'm not performing brain surgery here people. 

So I sat there for a second wondering what would happen next.  Sara handed me a business card with the name, address and phone number of a lab that was "right up the street" where they did the drug testing.  I took the card and said thank you.  She said, "Great.  After you go just give me a call and I can schedule to come back for training."  I smiled and said it was nice to meet them and walked out to the car.  I got into the drivers seat flipping the card around in my hand.  I was desperate for a job...but how desperate?  I went for a drive and when I got out of the car I threw the business card away.  I decided that there is a lot I am willing to put up with during my job search but I don't have to prove to anyone before I have even started working there that I don't use drugs.  Any palce that wants a blood sample is just not a place that I want to work.

Since the interview I have been asking myself 'Am I being too picky?'  'As I am looking for a new job are my standards and expectations too high?'  Well, the answers still aren't 100% clear to me but I guess I just have to go with my gut.  I didn't go back to the office supply store.  Maybe I'm willing to give sweat and tears to a job but not my blood.  It's just too degrading. 

When it rains its pours...

My sister had visited for the weekend.  She was taking the train back into the city on Monday and I took her to the train station.  The train station is up the road from the house (like a 5 minute drive).  I figured I would run her up to the train station and turn right back around.  I was so confident that I would be right back that I threw on jeans, an oversized t-shirt (aka my pajamas) and flip flops and left the house with just my car keys--no purse, no cell phone, nada.  The sky was an ominous gray--if you don't know where I'm going with this yet, don't worry--I'll get there.  While we were waiting at the station for the train I turned the car engine off but had the radio on.  Before you start with the lectures--I know, I know this uses up the battery!  But I figured we would just be waiting there for a few minutes and that it would be ok.  After we were waiting there for a while I turned the car off completely.  We sat in the car talking for a few minutes and finally the train pulled up into the station.  My sister got out of the car and got onto the train.  As the train was pulling away I turned the key in the ignition and heard the dreaded click, click, click of a dead car battery.  Right on cue it started pouring down rain.  Now just to refresh your memory--I didn't have my purse or cell phone (see above about how I thought I would just run my sister right to the train station and turn around and go right back home) so my only option was to walk back to the house in the rain.  Cursing myself and mother nature I took (or more like angrily snatched) the umbrella from the back of the car and started to trek in the rain, back home.  (As a side note I normally wouldn't even mind having to walk back home except as I had mentioned earlier I was practically in pajamas and didn't exactly have walking shoes on).  I had only been walking a minute or two and I and was wondering what I had done in a past life for my luck to be so bad when a car pulled up next to me with the driver calling my name.  I glanced up and saw it was a neighbor.  He asked if I needed a ride back to the house and I very gratefully said sure.  As he was driving back to the house I explained the whole, sad story to him.  He dropped me off at the house.  I was wet and stressed and worried about how the hell I would be able to come up with the extra money to pay for a new car battery.  I took a deep breath grabbed my cell phone--lying right where I had a left it on the bed by my purse--to call AAA.  I saw that I had a voicemail.  I impatiently grabbed the phone.  It was an attorney calling about a resume I had submitted.  So here I was dripping, cranky, with a dead car battery but I had to put on a happy face and call this attorney back.  So I set the wheels in motion (pun slightly intended) to have AAA get my car moving again and then called Mr. Attorney back.  Before I called him back I pulled up the cover letter and resume I sent him--I had sent it 2 weeks ago--which I think is like 10 years in dog years in calling back after you've submitted a resume!  I had forgotten what the job was even for.  So there I was trying to sound happy, professional and juggle that with AAA and the car battery.

Everything happens all at once...or when it rains, it pours (sometimes literally).  But I have an interview scheduled for tomorrow and we'll see what happens.

Show and tell...

So I have a job interview scheduled...yaa hoo!  I had had a few other interviews but this one seemed to be the most promising.  The job was for a full-time paralegal and the position was posted on Craigslist--since it was on Craigslist I didn't know the name of the firm ahead of time.  The other interviews I had were for part-time legal assistant work and I was really looking for a full-time gig.  The office manager called to schedule an interview and to gave me the details I would need.  After I got off the phone I quickly went online to research the firm.  It was a firm with a very good reputation in the city.  I decided to get to the interview, rather then trying to fight the traffic and one-way streets and circling the block trying to find parking I would take the train--good old, reliable public transportation.  I took the train and got there with no problems.  Much to my surprise the train didn't break down on the way there and I didn't get lost--actually having worked in the city before I found the office pretty easily.  OK...so far, so good.

I went into the lobby, smiled at the receptionist and told her I was there for a meeting with the attorneys.  I sat in the lobby for a few minutes making small talk with the receptionist/office manager and trying not to fidget.  I won't bore you with the details of the interview (unless you ask later).  I met with one of the partners first and I liked him right away.  We did the standard interview...tell me a little bit about yourself and this is what the job would be...blah, blah, blah.  Overall the interview was pretty short and sweet.

When the interview was over, I smiled, thanked them...you all know the drill.  When I left the office building I grabbed my cell to check the time and I realized the next train back home was leaving in 15 minutes.  the office building was a little bit of a hike from the train station so I got moving as fast as my short little legs in heels would carry me.  When I got to the train station I glanced at the board that showed the departing trains and saw that my train was leaving...now!  I raced through the train station and down the stairs to the platform.  As I hauled ass down the stairs I saw the train sitting there.  
 
I literally hopped on to the train.  Whew!  Just made it.  But you know it couldn't be that easy, right?  I found a seat, took a deep breath.  As the train pulled out the station I glanced down and noticed that one of the buttons on my blouse was undone--showing my sensible cotton bra.  All I could do the whole train ride back home was hope that the button had come undone as I was rushing to the train station and that it hadn't been undone for any part of the interview--because talk about a bad time to have a wardrobe malfunction...