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No Point Climbing The Ladder In This Place

, , , , , | Working | March 11, 2020

(I HATE my job and am only going in order to continue to be able to pay my bills. I’m looking for something else that pays similarly, as I’m actually making above minimum. It’s a sunny afternoon moving into early evening, and there are three of us in the store: me, a coworker who smokes, and the unbalanced kitchen manager, who is technically higher ranked than us but also not our boss. My coworker has just stepped out for a smoke and I have just finished a task that required the step ladder, which is typically kept in the far back corner of the kitchen. As I am moving to the kitchen to put the ladder away, I see the front door open out of the corner of my eye. I call out to the kitchen manager that I’ll be right back to properly put the ladder up and whip around to the registers, a good six feet away on a slightly raised platform. The intrusion was my coworker and as I’m moving back to the kitchen to finish with the step ladder, it comes sailing at me from the kitchen door. I leap back and it clatters harmlessly to the floor, but I am badly shaken.)

Me: “What the f***, [Kitchen Manager]?! I said I’d take care of it.”

(I am so shaken, I actually don’t remember if he responded, or how. He leaves for the night soon after. A few days later, the store’s general manager arrives at my apartment to give me a lift into work, as he insists on scheduling me before the buses start for the day.)

General Manager: “So, [My Name], I heard there was an incident with [Kitchen Manager] the other night.”

(I’m unsure where he’s going with this, and I’m already uncomfortable with him because he’s my boss and I have some fear issues with authority figures and this guy has already proven to be unreliable.)

Me: *cautiously* “Yeah.”

General Manager: “Well, how could you have handled that better?”

(I am stunned enough that I respond in a manner much unlike my normal self with management.)

Me: “Besides call the police because that was attempted assault?!”

(At this point, my general manager started spluttering, shocked that I had reached that very logical conclusion. He began to try to placate me, telling me that it wasn’t [Kitchen Manager]’s fault, that he hadn’t been taking his medication for a while. I let him know that that wasn’t an excuse and then, fortunately, we were at our store and I ended the conversation by walking away to clock in. In the end, the kitchen manager was let go, but unfortunately, that was well after I quit for a job that paid about $1 less per hour.)

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