It's fun to write about work....

So I went to a meeting with my GM and three other crew members at work yesterday. We talked about all the shit that breaks down in the store. The list of things either broken or malfunctioning now stands at eleven. This girl I work with, she’s a sweet girl…but she just kept talking and talking about pointless stuff. My GM tried to rush her along while me and another girl were trying not to laugh at a customers outfit. Jesus, it was like she pulled a shirt down over her ass, literally just her ass, and tied a belt around her hips to keep it there. Oh, shit, it looked horrible. Aside from my inappropriate snickering, I was pretty quiet most of the time….until GM asked my opinion on management. He knew exactly what he was doing, so I let the flood gates open. It’s not that I have a personal problem with anyone, but what they have going on now is absurd. I worked there for seven years, five as a manager, before I had my buh-be. It’s not that freaking hard. I told him the managers have no control now, and it’s the truth. I told him if the store manager isn’t there, then the shift managers fuck off. Fuck, I even told him that when the shift managers fuck off then I fuck off with them. The perfect example of no control. And since nobody else wanted to say it, I said the store manager plays favorites and the grill manger has an attitude problem. GM just kinda grinned at me….he knows me by now. It was a fun meeting…got an hour of pay to snitch on some people, if put bluntly. But that sounds bad, so lets say I got an hour of pay to help my GM improve productivity. Yes, let’s say that…either way it was possible overtime. Bye for now, more to come later. Meaningful lyrics time: Drink up, baby, look at the stars. I’ll kiss you again, between the bars. Where I’m seeing you there, with your hands in the air, waiting to finally be caught. -Elliott Smith, Between the Bars