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lbd_nytetraynWhat a fucking day. I'm really finding myself becoming disenchanted with TRU. Last week, Friday I believe, was annoying to the point I really, REALLY wanted to go off on someone.
Damn bitch at work, who NEVER hears/understands what I say the first time I say it, suddenly seems to think she has perfect hearing. I'm at the service desk, as she's next to me helping a customer. I'm going through the drawer marked "scissors"(among other things) looking for scissors to cut a gift card in two. No scissors inside. I ask out loud, to anyone listening but to no one in particular, "where are the flippin' scissors?" That was exactly it, verbatim. She starts to ask what I said, basically accusing me of using some, how shall we say, "less savory" language there. I told her EXACTLY what I said, and she basically was calling me a liar. That was enough to piss me off, but not so much I couldn't just drop it.
Until later. Manager asks me about using inappropriate language, and I tell him too exactly what I said, adding "I didn't realize that "flippin'" was a bad word, and I made it clear that I was rather insulted by this whole thing. And by "insulted," I mean "this is really starting to piss me off." I so wanted to be called on that again, just so I could go off on her sorry ass, starting with "I wasn't using bad language before, but if it's bad language you want, I'll give you all you can handle." Might not be exactly what I had in my mind to say, but the idea is the same.
I should also mention she'd been getting on my nerves all day by calling me back to my register constantly whenever I tried to do ANYthing constructive. Sometimes twice within a minute, which is hard time to beat when customers are constantly asking for help. Can't even go to the washroom without her calling me back...
Apparently, though, TRU has some stupid policies. For starters, if there are three people in line, they're apparently supposed to open another register, though that seems to apply more when I'm the other register, rather than when I'm the main one. This sickens me. I've run registers in a grocery store on every major holiday as everyone is doing their last-minute shopping. I've worked a steakhouse register with people lining up out the door on Thanksgiving because they don't want to cook. The very idea that three people is enough to open a second register makes me want to vomit. It's pathetic. It's stupid. And as of late, there aren't enough people to even have two register open, as usually the only back-up I have is working the service desk.
It does, however, give me great pleasure to be able to have a really fucking long line stretching back and not break a sweat while they're probably getting all nutso.
Oh yeah, I talk alot, btw. So my throat tends to dry fairly quickly. But I'm not allowed to have a drink at the register. However, "I can go get water from the fountain by the washrooms when I need to." Yeah, if I want to be called back to my register before I take five steps. "Not professional" is what I hear. Tell that to all the talk show actors, hosts, and comedians, who oft keep refreshments by their side, usually on stage in the case of the latter two, and drink while the camera is rolling. I'm sure a 7.4/hr cashier is held to a much higher standard of professionalism and respect than any of those people. "Johnny Carson was a hack! See that cashier with his name on his vest at TRU? That is a real pro, there." My ass.
Before I left for my rather sizable number of days off(Saturday through Tuesday), I tried to check the schedule. Wasn't finished. Was told to call in, which I did. I was told I didn't work til Wednesday, 11-5(before, it would've been 11-6). I thought that was odd, considering. Manager doing the schedule, who'd told me to call, said he thought he had me for Sunday at 1-6(actually closing, which is more a "whenever we're done" sort of deal), and I asked, and was assured that Wednesday is when I was to come in.
So I come in today(actually yesterday, technically, now) and I get asked by two managers where I was on Sunday, to which I told them of exactly what happened. Apparently, they were really "short handed." I let them know I'd have gladly come in to work, I needed the hours. All they had to do was call. But they "were so busy there was no time to call." I may not be a manager, but if I'm shorthanded as bad as he says, I'd fucking make time to call. I believe Red said I should raise more hell on that, but as I see it, I got fucked, they got fucked, that's good enough for me I guess, leave it for now.
Also, I get a list when I come in. My priority job is to run the register. Whee. Secondary jobs, which of course I guess I'm supposed to be told to do(and was, in one case) were "piecing"(making the product on shelves look nice) of the register aisles, reshops(putting stuff back on the shelves out of carts), and cleaning the men's room. I pieced my own aisle and ran the register the rest of the day. Again, as noted, I was even called back to my register from the washroom when someone said they'd cover me. So with the knowledge of how that kind of thing works, I didn't even bother with the other crap(which I honestly would rather have been doing, if I thought I could), and resigned myself to play with this mechanical expanding/compressing ball.
I hope that ball is still there tomorrow. Wish I'd remembered to stash it somewhere...
Further making the day miserable was the fact I received almost NO help I asked for, leaving me to my own devices which I'm not even supposed to use, such as looking a price up myself. And during lunch, hearing about how the old-timers who've worked there since '85 are getting jerked around in favor of the "new people"(I bet that one lady, not seen her before, dunno her name, didn't realize I saw her thumbing in my direction with that) hasn't made my outlook any brighter.
Oh, and my hours are cut even further now. 23 hours for the week. Provided I don't see any further shrinking of hours(that works two ways, as they refer to stolen merchandise as "shrinkage"), that means that with four weeks of work, I can just barely make rent, and have 30 bucks leftover. Whee.
So, with all that out of the way, I just have to say this:
Fuck YOU, Toys R Us.
And that seems like a good lead-in to my next bit: I want Unicron, and Lord Elohim is probably right; this thing will no doubt be VERY hard to get once Christmas shopping starts, all too soon. And with my above-mentioned wage, even with my piddling 10% discount which doesn't even negate tax, I stand no chance of seeing it for some time... especially at like $89.99.
...just like the Optimus Prime and Rodimus Major reissues we apparently just got in. Highway robbery, those are. It's like, $29.99 or $39.99(I think the latter) for Rodimus here, and like $69.99 for Optimus. Unbelievable. But people buy 'em. Lots of 'em in one case. Guy was buying 6 Rodimus and 4 Optimus for friends, he said. Came out to about 400-something dollars(got a 15% tax on there, too). So naturally, I asked if I could be his friend. He agreed, but I bet I'm still not getting either one. Sigh...
What a day. And I get to have another one in t-minus 9 hours, 13 minutes(I've apparently spent the better part of an hour typing this, for those looking at the timelog).
Whee. Fucking whee.
LBD "Nytetrayn"
Damn bitch at work, who NEVER hears/understands what I say the first time I say it, suddenly seems to think she has perfect hearing. I'm at the service desk, as she's next to me helping a customer. I'm going through the drawer marked "scissors"(among other things) looking for scissors to cut a gift card in two. No scissors inside. I ask out loud, to anyone listening but to no one in particular, "where are the flippin' scissors?" That was exactly it, verbatim. She starts to ask what I said, basically accusing me of using some, how shall we say, "less savory" language there. I told her EXACTLY what I said, and she basically was calling me a liar. That was enough to piss me off, but not so much I couldn't just drop it.
Until later. Manager asks me about using inappropriate language, and I tell him too exactly what I said, adding "I didn't realize that "flippin'" was a bad word, and I made it clear that I was rather insulted by this whole thing. And by "insulted," I mean "this is really starting to piss me off." I so wanted to be called on that again, just so I could go off on her sorry ass, starting with "I wasn't using bad language before, but if it's bad language you want, I'll give you all you can handle." Might not be exactly what I had in my mind to say, but the idea is the same.
I should also mention she'd been getting on my nerves all day by calling me back to my register constantly whenever I tried to do ANYthing constructive. Sometimes twice within a minute, which is hard time to beat when customers are constantly asking for help. Can't even go to the washroom without her calling me back...
Apparently, though, TRU has some stupid policies. For starters, if there are three people in line, they're apparently supposed to open another register, though that seems to apply more when I'm the other register, rather than when I'm the main one. This sickens me. I've run registers in a grocery store on every major holiday as everyone is doing their last-minute shopping. I've worked a steakhouse register with people lining up out the door on Thanksgiving because they don't want to cook. The very idea that three people is enough to open a second register makes me want to vomit. It's pathetic. It's stupid. And as of late, there aren't enough people to even have two register open, as usually the only back-up I have is working the service desk.
It does, however, give me great pleasure to be able to have a really fucking long line stretching back and not break a sweat while they're probably getting all nutso.
Oh yeah, I talk alot, btw. So my throat tends to dry fairly quickly. But I'm not allowed to have a drink at the register. However, "I can go get water from the fountain by the washrooms when I need to." Yeah, if I want to be called back to my register before I take five steps. "Not professional" is what I hear. Tell that to all the talk show actors, hosts, and comedians, who oft keep refreshments by their side, usually on stage in the case of the latter two, and drink while the camera is rolling. I'm sure a 7.4/hr cashier is held to a much higher standard of professionalism and respect than any of those people. "Johnny Carson was a hack! See that cashier with his name on his vest at TRU? That is a real pro, there." My ass.
Before I left for my rather sizable number of days off(Saturday through Tuesday), I tried to check the schedule. Wasn't finished. Was told to call in, which I did. I was told I didn't work til Wednesday, 11-5(before, it would've been 11-6). I thought that was odd, considering. Manager doing the schedule, who'd told me to call, said he thought he had me for Sunday at 1-6(actually closing, which is more a "whenever we're done" sort of deal), and I asked, and was assured that Wednesday is when I was to come in.
So I come in today(actually yesterday, technically, now) and I get asked by two managers where I was on Sunday, to which I told them of exactly what happened. Apparently, they were really "short handed." I let them know I'd have gladly come in to work, I needed the hours. All they had to do was call. But they "were so busy there was no time to call." I may not be a manager, but if I'm shorthanded as bad as he says, I'd fucking make time to call. I believe Red said I should raise more hell on that, but as I see it, I got fucked, they got fucked, that's good enough for me I guess, leave it for now.
Also, I get a list when I come in. My priority job is to run the register. Whee. Secondary jobs, which of course I guess I'm supposed to be told to do(and was, in one case) were "piecing"(making the product on shelves look nice) of the register aisles, reshops(putting stuff back on the shelves out of carts), and cleaning the men's room. I pieced my own aisle and ran the register the rest of the day. Again, as noted, I was even called back to my register from the washroom when someone said they'd cover me. So with the knowledge of how that kind of thing works, I didn't even bother with the other crap(which I honestly would rather have been doing, if I thought I could), and resigned myself to play with this mechanical expanding/compressing ball.
I hope that ball is still there tomorrow. Wish I'd remembered to stash it somewhere...
Further making the day miserable was the fact I received almost NO help I asked for, leaving me to my own devices which I'm not even supposed to use, such as looking a price up myself. And during lunch, hearing about how the old-timers who've worked there since '85 are getting jerked around in favor of the "new people"(I bet that one lady, not seen her before, dunno her name, didn't realize I saw her thumbing in my direction with that) hasn't made my outlook any brighter.
Oh, and my hours are cut even further now. 23 hours for the week. Provided I don't see any further shrinking of hours(that works two ways, as they refer to stolen merchandise as "shrinkage"), that means that with four weeks of work, I can just barely make rent, and have 30 bucks leftover. Whee.
So, with all that out of the way, I just have to say this:
Fuck YOU, Toys R Us.
And that seems like a good lead-in to my next bit: I want Unicron, and Lord Elohim is probably right; this thing will no doubt be VERY hard to get once Christmas shopping starts, all too soon. And with my above-mentioned wage, even with my piddling 10% discount which doesn't even negate tax, I stand no chance of seeing it for some time... especially at like $89.99.
...just like the Optimus Prime and Rodimus Major reissues we apparently just got in. Highway robbery, those are. It's like, $29.99 or $39.99(I think the latter) for Rodimus here, and like $69.99 for Optimus. Unbelievable. But people buy 'em. Lots of 'em in one case. Guy was buying 6 Rodimus and 4 Optimus for friends, he said. Came out to about 400-something dollars(got a 15% tax on there, too). So naturally, I asked if I could be his friend. He agreed, but I bet I'm still not getting either one. Sigh...
What a day. And I get to have another one in t-minus 9 hours, 13 minutes(I've apparently spent the better part of an hour typing this, for those looking at the timelog).
Whee. Fucking whee.
LBD "Nytetrayn"
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no subject
Date: 2003-08-28 11:09 am (UTC)O_O
Date: 2003-08-28 09:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-29 04:08 am (UTC)I was going to comment that the Unicron I got wasn't anywhere near ninety dollars, when I realized you're talking about Canadian, and... um, yeah. Sorry bro.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-29 09:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-29 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-29 09:51 pm (UTC)This paycheck was for two weeks of work. 366 dollars. And it says I only had 54.15 hours for those two weeks. Something doesn't seem right here...
LBD "Nytetrayn"
no subject
Date: 2003-08-30 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-30 05:58 am (UTC)LBD "Nytetrayn"