I work in a warehouse. We are all backlogged due to short staffing and booming business. The work is about as hard as to be expected. There are a lot of boxes, pallets, dirt, and heavy lifting. I work the shipping docks. It is my job to check what the pickers have brought me against the order lists for each customer and to make sure these orders are on the correct dock. We wouldn’t want an order meant to go to Route B when it’s supposed to be on Route A, after all.
As I said, business is booming and we have a lot of orders to pick, package, and ship every day. I am doing my best to keep up, but it’s difficult to do so with fifteen docks that have two rows of pallets stretching into the product aisles. I get a lucky break when a new hire is introduced to me one day. Or so I think.
This new hire is young — maybe eighteen or nineteen. She definitely doesn’t look like the warehouse type. She has a face full of makeup and long fake nails that she probably spent a decent penny on. She is wearing the thinnest closed-toe canvas shoes I’ve ever seen; they could technically qualify as sneakers but offer no support or protection. She is wearing a light pink jogger’s suit. She basically looks completely unprepared to manhandle dirty boxes of construction supplies. I sigh and think that she will learn to wear T-shirts and pants she doesn’t care about soon enough and will lose the nails by her first paycheck.
I quickly discover that she is a talker, which is fine because talking usually helps speed up these sixteen-hour days. I start to train her on how to check the product and it seems to go okay. She asks a few questions for clarification and she seems to understand the basics. I keep her close to me so that I can watch for mistakes and help her along. Our talk often goes to relationships and we gal-pal chat a bit as we work. The first day seems to go well for her and I have hopes that by the end of the week, she will be blazing through the work alongside me.
The first few days give little complaint. Her constant chatter does start to grind on my nerves; it turns out that I’m not much of a gal-pal type person after all. A new work week arrives and that’s when everything goes downhill. [New Hire] was allowed to work mostly by herself Friday and we continue this her second week. I catch her on the phone once on Monday and tell her that it isn’t really allowed to have full-on phone calls. Texting is fine as long as it’s quick. Tuesday and Wednesday find her repeatedly on the phone with her boyfriend. By her second Friday, I have to tell her to get off her phone almost once an hour. As she leaves for the day, I remind her of the phone rules and she says she understands.
Week three arrives. I see her come into the building about an hour late. She tells me she will use the bathroom and then come right back. I say okay and continue to work. It takes me about two hours to realize she never did come back, and I go looking for her. I find her at the other end of the warehouse, ducked behind some product in the door aisle, arguing with someone on her phone. I give her a look, and after a few minutes, she hangs up. We walk back to the shipping docks, with me reminding her about the phone policy. She understands and we get back to work. Sometime later, I look up to realize that I am alone on the docks again. After a search, I find her in the bathroom on the phone. I corral her back to the docks and her shift ends about an hour later. This continues for the rest of the week.
Week four comes and she’s staying on the dock. I think it’s finally gotten through to her that she’s here to work and not talk to her boyfriend while hiding in random places. It takes me part of the day to realize that she’s not even working. She has wireless headphones on and is still talking with her boyfriend. She has been hovering near the pallets she’s supposed to be checking but is doing nothing. I’m beyond frustrated because I am now babysitting in addition to doing the same amount of work I was a month ago. I quietly tell her off, stating that she needs to work and that, at this point, I don’t care if she talks to her boyfriend while she does it as long as she is actually doing the work.
That is basically the last time I talk to her. She spends her time hovering near the pallets and ducks around to the other side of them if she sees I am looking at her. If I head toward her, she suddenly walks off toward the breakroom and comes back when she sees me deep into work again. My managers and finally the big boss occasionally come by to ask where she is and I honestly tell them that I don’t know.
It took another few weeks before she is fired. It all finally caught up to her. It seems her boyfriend was more important than a job that was willing to pay her $3,000 a month with a raise within six months. She never did stop wearing the full makeup, nails, or inappropriate shoes. I guess some people simply aren’t made for warehouse work.
