A Case Of Pig-Headed Management

| Michigan, USA | Working | February 26, 2013

(Note: I am petite young woman working in the meat department of my local grocery store. One of my jobs is to make the sausage, which requires hand mixing ten or twenty pounds of pork and spices, and then stuffing the meat into casings using an older, hand-cranked machine. About halfway through my shift, the produce manager wanders in to gossip with my boss.)

Produce Manager: “You shouldn’t have a little girl working back here. See, she’s not strong enough. She’s going way too slow!”

My Manager: “Give her a break; she’s probably just tired. She’s done about 70 pounds today, and that thing is hard to crank.”

Produce Manager: *pushes me out of the way* “Here, I’ll show you how it’s supposed to be done!”

(The produce manager cranks the handle as hard as he can, producing incredibly uneven sausages, sometimes splitting the casing, sometimes not even filling it. I’m doing my best to move the casing along in time, but he soon runs out.)

Me: “Okay, stop. You’re out of casing…hey, stop. STOP!”

(By this time, he has sprayed raw pork all over the wall of my work station.)

Produce Manager: “You can’t even do half the job right!” *storms out*

(Once he’s gone and I have started cleaning the wall and preparing to remake his batch of sausage, my manager speaks to me.)

My Manager: “Sorry about that. Don’t listen to him. You’re the best we’ve ever had working here.”

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