Several years ago, shortly after I graduated college, I worked at a furniture store for a while. I was originally hired as a front desk/secretary-esque person, but through various things, I basically ended up with the job and responsibilities of a manager without the corresponding authority or bump in pay.
When I started, I was told that I was going to be on “probation” for six months and that I would potentially get a raise after that probation was up. Six months passed.
Manager: “You’ve been doing really well and I’m going to give you a raise of seventy-five cents an hour.”
Me: “Great!”
The first payday came up after the promise of the raise, and the manager pulled me into her office.
Manager: “So, I’ve had to pay several bills, and I can’t give you the full amount of your raise; I’m only going to be able to give you twenty-five cents right now. I’ll give you the other fifty cents in a couple of months.”
This was before I realized how horrible this job was and how much under-the-table and frankly illegal s*** went on at this store, so I naively believed her, although I was a little disappointed. Honestly, I should have gotten it in writing — not that she would have honored it at all; she would have figured out some way out of it — but again, naivety.
Me: “Okay.”
Months went by, and the rest of that raise never came around. Every time I tried to bring it up to [Manager], she gave me something about bills taking the extra money. (A lot of that was her not paying the vendors until they yelled at her and threatened to not make the furniture.)
Finally, almost a year went by. Costs were going up, and while it wouldn’t necessarily have been the end of the world without it, having that extra little bit would’ve helped me, so I went to [Manager] again. On this day, her husband (who technically owned the store) was there.
Me: “Hey, I’m wondering if I could start getting the rest of that raise you told me you were going to give me.”
Owner: “You know what, we need to talk about that. Can you meet me at [Nearby Coffee Chain] on Sunday? We’ll talk before the store opens.”
By this point, I was seriously jaded at this job and never believed anything they said, so I knew I was probably not going to get anything. But I agreed.
That Sunday, I got to the coffee shop and [Owner] wasn’t there. He finally walked in almost an hour late, blaming traffic. I just brushed it off although I knew that if I’d been almost an hour late, he would have lectured me about it.
Owner: “You’ve been doing really well. [Manager] has told me how helpful you’ve been and everything you’ve been taking on. So, you know that you wear a lot of hats; you’re helping the salespeople input orders and taking payments, and you’re accepting deliveries at the warehouse. You’re assisting with opening and closing the store and with the floor moves when needed. You also need to function as a secretary for [Manager] and for me.”
I noncommittally agreed, despite the sinking feeling that told me this was going to go about as well as I knew it would.
Owner: “So, what I’m going to do is give you a seventy-five-cent raise.”
Me: “Is that in addition to the original fifty cents [Manager] still owes me?”
[Owner] either didn’t listen or purposefully ignored me. I know which one I think it was, but you decide for yourself.
Owner: “You’ll be getting a seventy-five-cent raise starting with the first paycheck of next month.”
That part made sense since we were technically at the end of a pay period and payday was the upcoming Tuesday.
Owner: “We really appreciate all you do. Please keep up the good work.”
And off he went after promising me a whopping twenty-five cents — since I took away the original fifty I was still owed — thinking he’d just changed my life. He went home and I got to go open the store for another not-so-joyous Sunday.
I finally found a new job, but I had to suffer for another six months. I took the new job and ran out of there so fast I’m surprised I didn’t leave tracks. I didn’t even stop to consider reporting to Labor & Industries, although I honestly could have gotten a lovely settlement (between the wage theft, the fact that I regularly worked seven days in a row without a day off because the manager always managed to have a valid reason/excuse/whatever, and just general business practices) if I’d bothered to pursue something.
I will admit that I didn’t think about shedding a tear when I found out they’d closed about a year after I left.
