I work in a store where the rules are: no talking, texting, or listening to anything on your phone. Still, several coworkers spend hours on their phones while working, chatting with customers half-heartedly or just avoiding responsibilities.
We get a new manager who tries to flex and crack down. It doesn’t work. Her only move is to write people up and threaten to fire them. No one cares because we’re short-staffed, and everyone knows she can’t fire anyone. There are a few rule-followers like me… and the ones who do whatever they want.
One night, I got a phone call from my mother. She tells me she has just been diagnosed with a serious medical condition. I spent twenty minutes crying on the phone before hanging up.
When I’m upset, I need distractions. I’m not allowed music, audiobooks, or anything else on my phone… so I do the only thing left.
I work.
I clean that store’s soul. I move displays. I scrub under the coffee machines that haven’t been touched since the first Bush administration. I organize the tobacco shelf and print a clean spreadsheet showing where every single item goes when restocking.
I check every product for expiration, face every label forward, and front every shelf. I do the work of ten employees.
The next morning, the manager arrives. The first thing she does is tear down my chart.
Manager: “We’re not allowed to put up our own advertising for tobacco products. You could get fired for that.”
No praise. No thanks. Not even a nod.
That’s fine. I didn’t do it for her.
The next night, I show up for my shift, and she approaches me.
Manager: “There’s a reprimand you need to sign.”
Me: “A reprimand? For what?”
Manager: “You were on your cell phone for seventeen minutes last night. You know that’s not allowed. Now sign this and clock in, or I have to let you go.”
She has this cheerful little I have authority to treat you like s*** smile.
I grab my stuff.
Me: “I quit.”
She just sits there, stunned, suddenly realizing I’m the only overnight employee. She tries to coax me back.
I’m already in my car, driving home with a smile, when she calls.
Manager: “You have ten minutes to get back here, or you’re fired.”
Me: “How do you not realize I just quit? F*** you and your reprimand. Make sure my last paycheck is right.”
I hang up.
Later, I find out the recording of that call, and how she handled everything, gets her in trouble once I explain to the Market Manager why I was on the phone for seventeen minutes… a detail she never bothered to ask about.
I had a better-paying job in three weeks, one that actually respects me.
