Anonymous

Ahhh, I love Spring--all the newbies make it fun.

No, really. There's so much more fodder. It makes my head spin with delight to think about all the nutjobs and half-baked people who are not only shopping, but working here.

On the front line, we have "Attitude Girl," who also happens to be one of the "I know" sisters. I am a daughter, and I have a daughter. I know the attitude that daughters invariably give their mothers--and I don't have to put up with it from snotty newbies.

I want a T-shirt (or a company approved pin) that announces to all comers that I am not psychic. I don't know what you've been told about how far we're allowed to go away from our posts--I know our managers, and I know what I've been told, and I know what's been done over the past almost 8 years. (I also do know what this particular piece of work was told about where she could and could not go when she's in the garden center.) I also know that if someone truly does "know" what she's doing, she'll do it--not just tell me "I know" in a snippy tone when she's reminded of it.

If a customer comes in and asks for a cart, and you don't have anyone currently at your register, you offer to get them one--period. This is a no-brainer, especially outside in the garden center where the carts are kept less than 20 feet from the registers. I mention it to attitude girl--no, I was not my usual bitchy-snippy-bossy self when doing it--and I got a full-on daughter to overbearing mother attitude filled snappy tell off.

I don't think she expected to be informed, in a matching mother to daughter snappy come back, that not only do I not know what she's specifically been told, but she can ditch the attitude, because it's uncalled for. I informed her that in the almost 8 years I've worked there, I've NEVER heard of anyone being told that to point to the carts and roll their eyes.

Today, Attitude Girl was wearing non-approved workout pants. Now, the dress code is pretty clear, and for all intents, it's fair. Sure, technically the guys can't wear capris, but hell, I'd like to see 'em do it--even if it was just to make a point. Anyway, sweatpants, lounge pants, and the like are definitely listed on the "What Not to Wear" list--personally, I don't think customers should be allowed to come in wearing them either, but try getting that put into a workable policy! Yet, there she was...and no one was, as far as I could tell, even making a mention of it to her.

The "Wanderer" is the other totally great co-worker on the front end. I enjoy having to look for her when she's supposed to be out there. I absolutely love having to page for the previously mentioned "code 3" and have management call and tell me that "the Wanderer is out there--why do you need a code 3?" And then, when I tell them that she's not there, they come out, look around, and ask me, "Where's the Wanderer?"

I also enjoy hearing her snap, "I know" when I remind her of policy or just mention in general how things are usually done. I want so badly to snap back, "Well, if you know, they why aren't you doing it right?" But I don't, because I'm not allowed. I have to behave--they can snap and snarl at me, though. (thanks, Asshat)

I honestly think that a big big big part of her problem is that she "knows" I don't have any real authority. So what? I have something better--I have the authority that comes with respect from my peers. You may not think it's much, but you're probably also wrongly counting on my continuing to cover for your pathetic ass. HAH! You continue to "know" and do things YOUR way, because one of us will be here in the long run, and you won't (I've survived this place and WORSE than you, toots)

And speaking of her ass, the 3/4 of her pasty white ass we all get to see when she bends over (and she does bend over often) is fan-freaking-tastic. Ugh. I've already commented that she needs to be told to "say no to crack" and that every time I have to see it, they're going to hear it. (and they know that what comes next is my asking if they want to see mine, too--and I'm am assured that NO they do NOT--HAH!)

Then they wonder why there are flames shooting out orafices.

*sigh*

I also hate that my current work arch-nemisis (previously known as Liar, Liar) is still up to her old tricks, but since I'm outside, I have little-to-no contact with her. And I like it that way. But, since I've been "spoken to" twice about "my attitude" towards her, I can't say anything, even when she does irritate the snot out of me.

I have discovered, however, the common denominator in all this--the Asshat manager. He has his pets (don't we all?), and unto them, no evil shall be attached. Even if they're being total idiots and assholes. Now, that is probably why he likes them so much--they're assholes just like him.

It's a club! Assholes Anonymous! Come, introduce yourself...we won't ask you to change, but we will support your achievements as assholes! I guess this qualifies as an epiphany, too.