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I worked in a pharmacy located in a rich town, and the people were horrible. So many of them had drug dependencies and would get mad if we couldn’t fill their prescriptions. Meanwhile, they are trying to get us to fill something that looks like it’s been written in crayon on loose-leaf paper, or narcotics that had expired over a year ago.
I had one man that threw a book at me because he was angry that we were filling a crying infants medicine ahead of his stool softener. We had people urinate on the floor in front of us, one lady even defecated on a stool in the waiting area. I know that when you sign up to work in retail, you should be aware that you will be dealing with people like this, but when I would tell people things that happend there they were flabbergasted.
Aside from the customers being horrible, the working conditions were insane. I would work 10-hour shifts and would not be allowed breaks (the girls were not allowed breaks). We had to eat standing up between customers, who, when they saw you to the side of the counter, would walk over to you instead of to the regular pick-up area and sneeze and cough all over your lunch. The guys were allowed out during their shifts to wax their cars & get haircuts, even if they were just hired. The manager that worked there always formed a tight bond with the teenage boys that worked there because he always had them driving him around to places because he got his license taken away after too many DWIs.
Anything we purchased we were instructed to not ring in to the register and to put the cash in an envelope the manager kept in the back. (wonder where that money wound up going?) His girlfriend would also come in and fill up bags with expensive toiletries and cigarettes and leave without paying. Meanwhile, when the owner came in, we were all scrutinized for stealing because there was always money missing.
The worst part was how the manager acted when I left. I was there for seven years. Mainly because I was able to make alright money there and I had a child I was supporting. I was seeking employment in the career field that I wanted during the last two years I was there, but since it is not an easy field to get into it took a while. For seven years, I did the ordering for the store, all the return processing, worked the cash register, helped fill prescriptions when they were busy (at least two hours a day and ALL day on the weekends I would fill prescriptions), I made sure I was there to open the store and would work until closing when they had a fill in Pharmacist working because I would be the only one with a key, and the manager wanted to take the weekends off.
I truly felt close to most of the people I worked with seeing as I spent so much of my time with them. I gave four weeks notice when I left instead of two so that they would have enough time to replace me. Everyone was generally happy for me except for the manager. Even the owner of the store was happy for me and wished me well and thanked me for all I had done. The manager got mad at me and threw things around and yelled, “That’s just great!” really sarcastically. He wouldn’t speak to me for four weeks, and made me clean the bathrooms!
Even now if I go in there, he won’t even look at me. I still don’t understand why he was so surprised that I grew up and got a real job. Nobody keeps their high school/college job forever.
The boss at My Very Worst Job had a habit of sharing too much information. I was at work one afternoon when the power when out. When it came back on, my boss returned and I was joking with him about how dark it is in the office when the lights are out. He laughed and said that he’d been in the bathroom when it went out and it’s really dark in there. We chuckled together and I thought that was the end of it.
“Yeah, it’s pretty funny,” he continued, like he was embarrassed but wanted to tell me something anyway. “I’ll tell you, because it’s just the two of us and I know you can keep a secret…
“So, I was in the bathroom and well, I’m of a certain age where doctors start checking for various illnesses and diseases by using stool samples. So, I was actually trying to collect my sample when the power went out. It was soooo dark! *chuckle chuckle* Anyway, I’ve got the collection stuff all ready and I don’t want to loose my opportunity…”
I lowered my face and covered my eyes. He charged on:
“Actually, you’ve probably never had to do this, but basically you collect the stool on a piece of cloth, then there’s this little scooper that you use to take the samples to send to the lab. Aaaanyway, I’m standing there, all of a sudden in the pitch black, all ready to collect my sample and I don’t know when I’ll get another chance, so I pull out my cell phone, open it up and set it on the counter, just for a little light. And when I’m right in the middle of things, someone calls and the ringer makes the phone vibrate right off the counter, because I’ve got my hands full and can’t answer it. Then, when it hits the floor, the battery pops off, so I’m in the pitch black again. But now, I’m crawling around with the scooper in one hand, trying to find my phone and the battery with the other. Hahaha! I’m glad the power came on when it did, because I might have been in there all day. I finally found the battery and it was clear over on the other side of the bathroom, under one of the urinals…”
At this point I was wishing the power would go off again so that I could escape under the cover of darkness.
“Anyway, pretty funny story, huh? Just don’t tell anyone. It’s way too embarrassing! Hahaha!”
Mercifully, the door opened and another employee entered. My boss accosted him in the doorway.
“Hey Keith! Want to hear a funny story? This happened just now when I was in the bathroom and the power went out. See, I was trying to collect a stool sample for…”
Yeah, it’s a pretty funny situation, just not one I want to share with my boss.
New in town with very little savings, I needed cash fast so I went to a temp agency. I was excited when they offered me a temp-to-hire position as a data entry clerk for a large mortgage company. I arrived for my first day at 7:45 a.m. at a sprawling corporate complex and got very confused as to exactly where I was supposed to be, as no one had told me there were multiple buildings. Finding my new supervisor at exactly 8 a.m., I was icily informed that “Eight a.m. means at your desk and working at 8am, not walking in the door at 8 a.m.” We were off to an excellent start.
My new boss brightened quickly however and began gushing about what a wonderful place this was to work, going on and on about the elaborate Christmas party the company held each year. It was early July, so I wasn’t sure why all the emphasis on Christmas, but whatever. We arrived at our area and I was shown a desk where a woman was already sitting. A second computer had been placed at the edge of the desk with a folding chair. I incorrectly assumed that this would be a temporary spot for me for training and/or until they found me a desk of my own, but oh no, I was to be permanently wedged into this tiny corner, on a chair that soon sent shooting pains through my lower back.
This was a mammoth mortgage company that did billions of dollars worth of business each year. My department’s job was to deal with one specific form that would be faxed over from brokers. We’d call up the loan number in the database and enter the information from the form. Simple enough, except there could not be any blanks. If there were blanks on the form, we had to call the broker to ask for the information. At least 80% of the forms had at least one question left blank, so there were a lot of phone calls to cranky brokers who tried to ask me questions I could not answer. When I said where I was calling from, it was very common to hear “Oh thank God! I’ve been on hold with your customer service people for an hour!” And then they’d ask a question I couldn’t possibly answer. It should be noted that not one single aspect of the mortgage industry was explained to me, so I didn’t actually understand what information I was asking for nor could I answer even the most basic question. Neither could I transfer calls to customer service as that was a separate phone number. The brokers I called got understandably very, very upset with me.
Then there was my desk mate: A loud, harried woman who wore heavy perfume and proffered the opinion that it was “disgraceful” that I was unmarried at my age (I was 25) and tried to fix me up with her 19-year-old son. I declined. This woman never, ever, ever shut up and had a loud, braying laugh like a donkey. When I asked if we could move our single telephone so it was between us so I wouldn’t have to stand and reach awkwardly over here to make those horrible phone calls, she barked “No!” and proceeded to complain about having to share her desk with me, as if it was my fault.
Then there were the breaks. Or rather, the lack of breaks. Several times a week we were given the “opportunity” to work through lunch and then get lunch for free. “Lunch” consisted of a single slice of plain cheese pizza, which was cold by the time it got to you. Technically, you could insist on taking your proper lunch break, which I did once, but I was the only one who did not take them up on their oh-so-generous cold pizza and they acted as if I had spat in the CEO’s face. Also, we had to get permission from our team leader to use the bathroom, which was humiliating and ridiculous.
All this was for a whopping $8 per hour–barely above minimum wage. Eventually I found a retail job offering $10 per hour and quit the evil mortgage company via voicemail without giving notice.
I’m currently a grad school student getting a master’s degree in Counseling Psychology. My school sends out a listing of all the jobs in the area that pertain to the counseling field, which is where I found an available job as a Counselor Assistant at a rehab. My interview went very well and I found out that the CEO was a graduate of my program. I got called the next day offering me the Saturday and Sunday 8pm to 8am shifts. I wasn’t too keen on that, because I was still trying to make friends and it would make it more difficult when two of my weekend nights were booked and I would also be prevented from going to church on Sunday. But I took it because I figured my shifts would change as I integrated.
My first day I worked Friday during the day. I found out that the role of Counselor Assistant wasn’t anything like I was expecting. I was told that my job was to be a “glorified babysitter” since the clients couldn’t be trusted. I was also told that the guy who would be training me for my weekend shifts was actually the one I was replacing, but not to tell him because he didn’t know he was being fired. That made me really uncomfortable, but I kept plucking away. While filling out my paperwork, I saw that the only note on my application from my interviewer was that I was young, but likable. The guy who I was replacing had an idea of what was going on and so he asked me straight up if I was his replacement. Not wanting to rock the boat that soon in my job, I told him I didn’t know. He was then fired.
After a few weeks, I was given the Friday night 4pm to midnight shift, so there went my entire weekend. Something I noticed pretty quickly was that regardless of what I did, even following the rules, I was criticized, but not given an alternative. The clients, who were there for drug, alcohol and gambling addictions, don’t want to listen to anyone, but I was always being fussed at for not being able to make them listen. As time passed, there was a lot of turnover. After a staff meeting, the weekend supervisor told me that the guy who hired me (who was actually just the maintenance guy…WTF?!) told her that he didn’t want to hire me, but only did because the CEO knew my advisor and that they didn’t think I could do the job because of my age and the fact that I look younger. I used that as motivation to prove everyone wrong.
Not too long after that, there was a regime change where the CEO and my weekday supervisor were fired and things seemed like they were looking up. Then my partner (who I had grown quite close to) couldn’t make it so the old weekend supervisor stayed later. I had found where a co-worker hadn’t properly documented something with a client so I did. Then I got in trouble for writing about it because it would get my co-worker in trouble. She also told me that the mental health field might not be the best fit for me and that the clients thought I was a joke (which I knew was not true). The next night she got mad because two clients had been complaining to me about being sick and wanted to go to the hospital. Turns out they both had bronchitis and my supervisor was just mad because she had to stay later while I was with them at the E.R. This was then brought up at an administrative staff meeting (which my friend told me about) where I was turned into a scapegoat for not following a procedure that doesn’t exist — I checked the handbook.
I was going to turn in my notice but had a change of heart and decided that if they wanted me gone they would have to do it themselves. After hearing that this new guy had told my partner that my overnight shifts were now his I went ahead and typed up my two-weeks notice, but before I could print it out, I got the call. I was so relieved to be away from such a toxic environment (in the three months I worked there 14 people quit or were fired), but irritated that I let myself get fired because I had been so close so many times to quitting.
MVWJ was working at a certain buffet “steakhouse.” I took the job because I heard through the grapevine that some of the servers got really good tips. It was not the cleanest of places and everyone seemed kinda trashy to be honest. On the very first day, I learned that one of the managers was sleeping with a fellow waitress and that was why his wife was always coming by and staring us down. I couldn’t believe how much food would go to waste. People would pile on food just to leave it untouched. I just kept telling myself that I would make awesome tips. Yeah, those awesome tips were about $15 to $30 after eight hours.
There was a sink right next to the dish washing area where you were supposed to be able to wash your hands after dealing with filthy plates. For three weeks it had no soap or paper towels. Yet, we were not allowed to use the restaurants public restroom an we’d get written up if we did. So, one day at work, I got feverish. I remember having what I thought was a mosquito bite on my thigh. Well, I became delirious from the fever and was rushed to the ER where it turned out that I had a staph infection that they had to lance. My mom wound up buying me tons of hand sanitizers to keep on me at all times.
When I got back to work I just kept getting the crappiest customers. One table was filled with a bunch of punks who kept demanding refills even though they had plenty of drinks. They would laugh and thought they were so hilarious and cool. Another time there were four redneck guys with their sons. They were busy teaching them to call us crude names, telling us we had nice butts and tits. My final straw was during Father’s Day. We were extremely busy and I had one table that I thought maybe I’d get a decent tip from. After bringing the guy his steak, his wife wanted something specially made so I went to bring in her order. I had just cleaned off a table, washed my hands and was exiting the dish washing room, rubbing my neck. The guy comes up to me and asked if I cooked the food.
Me: “No, sir. I’m just the server. Is there anything you need?”
Him: “I’m just going to tell you something that you need to know. You should never touch your face or body while cooking food! It’s disgusting.”
Me: “I was rubbing my neck and I do not cook the food.” At this point I pull out my trusty hand sanitizer, “And I use this before and after I touch dirty plates or glasses. For my own health.”
Him: “Well I’m just telling you that it’s disgusting.”
Me: “Uh huh. Thanks.”
Naturally, I received no tip. I was more than happy when I quit.
MVWJ was a couple years ago at a florist. I love flowers and thought it would be an enjoyable job. It would have been were it not for The Office From Hell. The designers all attended church together. One of their husband was the pastor there and she was opposed to wearing any lower garment other than skirts as a religious conviction. Another’s husband was a deejay at the local Christian radio station, which they always listened to at work too. This would’ve been fine, except for the fact that I am an atheist and that wasn’t fine with them. The owner was like Ms. Swan, from MADtv, complete with insane clothes and incredibly rude, inappropriate comments. She would show up in her bedazzled jeans with gold and purple sequins and say things in a mocking tone.
Rachel, who hated Ms. Swan and totally lacked the social skills to acquire a job, was my supervisor, but fortunately for her she was leftover from when her sister’s rich husband had owned the place, and was therefore the only person there who could run it; even Ms. Swan could not. Rachel looked like Mariah Carey if she grew a beard, shaved it and covered the five o’clock shadow with creepy pancake makeup. What’s worse was that Rachel had the monopoly on the place and she knew it.
I spent six months kissing Rachel’s enormous ass and trying to read her mind. I would do something as she had previously instructed me to, only to be called stupid when she found out what I’d done. Bringing up the fact that I was following her directions would result in her explaining that I “should’ve known this was different” or denying she’d said it to begin with. I was terrified of screwing up, but when I did (always in a very minor way) Rachel would make sure I understood how stupid I was for it. In reality, I was very skilled at my job based on what the owner and other employees would tell me, but I always felt utterly inept and incompetent based on the abuse of my supervisor and spent my time at that job falling into bed at night and crying to my fiancé because the emotional stress was so much.
I mentioned before that I am an atheist, but I have no stickers on my car, no shirts, nothing displaying this information. I do nothing to advertise it, but of course, that wasn’t good enough for Rachel and the other ladies. Where I attended church and more importantly, would I attend church with them, became major focuses of our conversations. Gay people who came in ordering flowers for their partners were openly sneered at and declared “disgusting” by the employees (I’m also bisexual). African Americans who came in were made fun of as soon as they left the building. As the only one not partaking in their hate fest, I obviously didn’t fit in. Besides all of this (or maybe alongside it) was the fact that Rachel was almost definitely a painfully repressed 35 year old virgin and hated the fact that I had a love life. She would tell me how “cute” my fiancé was every opportunity she got, and even said at one point that she needed one of him for Christmas. This was not normal girl-to-girl flattery, but Single White Female-esque weirdness.
She would also call me at home every day I was off to ask about things she could’ve figured out or things that I had left notes about. This was a passive-aggressive move that started after I’d called her at home quite a few times, because she’d freak out if I made any decision without asking first. One day, after months of explaining to me that we could use the internet whenever we wanted, I was on NPR’s website while Rachel was on FOX News. Within hours, it was being explained to me that the “internet was for home.” My employment ended when I asked Rachel for a certain day off, to which she agreed. Weeks passed and when the day arrived I was about to begin my daughter’s birthday party when she called to inform me that it was a busy day and they’d have to cut me down to one day a week. I told them no thank you.
MVWJ was actually kind of pathetic, but thankfully short. I was 17, had absolutely zero job experience, and needed money. There was a small, trendy coffee shop in our neighborhood that had bounced from owner to owner for the past decade. I went in to interview with the latest owner, who seemed like a nice, professional guy. However, he would not be running the café. He’d bought the café so his wife, who spoke poor English, would have something to do. I spent most of my “training” helping a few of their friends lug huge refrigeration units and scraping the scum from the floor with a butterknife. It was on this day that the couple decided I would be paid national minimum wage, which was actually over two dollars less than state minimum wage. Joy. They paid me with straight cash and told me to come back the next day. I was their single employee, as they thought it was too much money to hire even one more person.
I had to arrive at four thirty to get ready for our five a.m. opening rush, which was a total joke. Maybe three people came in before seven thirty, but I was too busy preparing breakfast stuff to complain. The mammoth cleaning effort hadn’t been extended to the cooking/food handling equipment, which looked like they had been bought in the mid-eighties and hadn’t been cleaned since. I got to leave that greasy horror and run the till later that morning, and another problem became apparent. I had gotten very little training at the till, and they hadn’t briefed me on the drink names at all. So an order would consist of me stammering out “uh, hi” and the customer rattling off their drink order, which I would have to get the wife for. She would snap the drink names at me and get them all herself, skulking off to the back as soon as she was done.(I found out later she was watching me on the security video feed)
Enter a new customer, lather, rinse repeat. I eventually got a little better at orders, but then she would storm out and scold me for not including tax in the total. She didn’t know how to either, and so when she took the till to show me she just spent a half hour fiddling with it. After a few hours of stimulating conversation with our resident crazy homeless guy, I got paid for my shift in cash and was told to call in the next day if I could work. I went home and slept for a few hours, decided that the little money I was given really wasn’t worth it, and didn’t call.
The day after that, she called and chewed me out for not wanting to work, passive-aggressively hinting that I was just lazy and wanted to get money for doing nothing. I hung up after being verbally abused for a few minutes and that was the end of it. Six months later their little café experiment went belly up, and they just locked the doors and walked away, leaving all their equipment and the work of a few local artists (who still haven’t gotten their paintings back) inside.
Last summer, I got a job at a tanning salon until the semester started. Since I was a bit of a tan-a-holic I was up for the free tanning. I didn’t expect it to be great or horrible. But, I should have realized that things weren’t going to go well when the manager who hired me quit the day before I started.
After the first few days I realized that the assistant manager, M, and the owner were both crazy-ass bitches.
M was extremely rude and bossy–and addicted to pain killers. She would talk about how she didn’t eat anything fattening -”like avocados”- but would always eat candy (“no calories!”) and fat-free chips.
The second day of work I had to get balloons for a little event we were having and since the wind was blowing they got entangled. Of course, that was my fault. M kept saying “oh my god! what did you do?!” and actually pushed me out of the way and smacked my hand while I was trying to untangle them. This girl was only a year below me and I’m in my early 20s.
My fiance would occasionally bring me lunch and one day a manager from a different store was visiting the store. My fiance came in, dropped off my food, and told me bye. We’re not PDA when visiting one another at work. We just think it’s unprofessional. Well, apparently M feels totally different. When my fiance left, she turned to the visiting manager and asked her “Can you believe they are engaged?” The manager just said,”Oh, I didn’t know.” To which M replied, “I know! You wouldn’t be able to tell by how they act.” Then went on and on about how her boyfriend always kisses her when visiting her.
Let me add, that when her boyfriend visited her, they made out outside of the store and inside the store. They would also sit on the couch where she would lay down with her head on his lap–and she would remain there as customers are going in and out.
Now, as for the owner, she was absolutely crazy. From day one, she asked me when I’d like to work and what hours. I told her I prefered evenings but if she needs me for days I will do that (my fiance wouldn’t get off work til 4 a.m. so mornings were a little difficult for me) I also requested that I have Thursdays off (best for errands, doctor appts, etc.)
For the first two weeks, I didn’t have a written schedule. She would call me at 11 p.m. sometimes 1 a.m. and just talk about her problems and tell me how she’d get so coked up that she’d black out. I should have quit right then and there, but I wanted to tan for free and save up some money before classes started.
When I finally got my schedule, she asked me again what days I could work and I told her again that I need Thursdays off and I could work every day other than that. She then had a hissy fit. She asked me why I hadn’t told her this before. I explained to her that I did and she even wrote it down. She then calmed down and said OK. So, I worked every day except Thursday and was the only full-time employee. I worked 8-10 hours a day.
Despite that, every week she expected me to come in on Thursday. Once she called me saying she needed me at the store because it was raining and she didn’t want to drive in the rain. I told her I wasn’t even in town. Another time she called on a Wednesday and asked one of the girls to ask me to work Thursday. I was picking up a friend who I hadn’t seen in 8 years from the airport who was visiting me for my birthday that day. She then said “What is with you and Thursdays?!” I told her I didn’t think it was a problem since it was my only day off and if it was I would have to find another job. She then backed off.
But not for long. My fiance had bought a “day of luxury” at a really nice spa for my birthday. Of course, it had to be on a Thursday since I had no other day off. At the spa, they asked that I turn off my phone and leave it in the locker. So I did. After 6 wonderful hours of being pampered, I’m dressed and heading back home. Then, I stupidly turn on my phone. I had three missed calls from the crazy owner, as well as two voicemails.
I checked the voicemails and she kept saying that it was important that I call her because one girl who was supposed to work 6 p.m.-9 p.m. called in, so she wanted to me to work it. Unsure what to do, I called my father to ask him if I should go in and he told me to enjoy my day off and calling someone to work three hours is crazy.
The next day at work, she calls wanting to speak to me. She demanded to know why I didn’t answer my phone the day before. I told her that I turned it off. She asked “ALL DAY?!” I told her that yes, all day. It was my day off after all. She then told me how unprofessional I was and that I should always have my phone on and answer it anytime she calls. I told her that on my day off I don’t have to answer her calls. She then hung up on me. I called her right back and told her I was quitting and putting in my two weeks. She just yelled “WHATEVER!” and hung up.
I went inside and told M that I was quitting. M started making fun of me, telling me that she worked even on her days off. I pointed out that I was the only full-time employee and had only one day off. I also told her that she comes in for three hours, leaves for four, then comes back for an hour just to talk with her friends that tan there. That just made her make fun of me to the customers. Every customer that cam in, she would point at me, tell them that I was quitting and how stupid, horrible, etc. that was. She told them that I was screwing them over right when they were at their busiest.
The next day, I called and told them I wasn’t going to finish my two weeks. They yelled at me that I was now banned from that tanning salon and that I am extremely unprofessional. I just laughed at them and hung up.
When I was a senior in high school, I was hired part-time at a grocery store as a cashier. The only training I received was “Um these are roma tomatoes and this is how you type in cash and check.” Everything was fine those few months, but by the time I graduated and new management rolled in it all went to hell. I gladly signed up to get called in and take on 40 hours a week (I had to wait about a year to go to college for financial reasons) but it turned out to be a huge mistake.
I hardly ever had breaks. Even though cashiering isn’t hard physical labor I am still human and I get hungry. I was usually the only person working up front. The other cashier would leave sit in the break room. The front end manager would either join her or eat chips in the office. I could never finish sweeping outside or refill bags because I couldn’t leave the front. I was called in and kept for an extra hour frequently. One of the few times I refused to come in I was screamed at because work is supposed to be a main priority. It was my only day off since I had already worked and extra day that week. The next day I was yelled at again for having so much overtime.
So basically I was yelled at for asking for breaks, not finishing tasks, for not working enough, and working too much!
Also there are so many individual stories I could tell about the horrible customers. Here are two summed up. There was a racist old man on an oxygen tank. He constantly complained about my white mother contributing to the downfall of “class and cleanliness” by marrying my Mexican dad. Another time I was backed up into by a truck while I was loading their groceries. The man sat down and started the truck right away. I unloaded the two carts by myself (only taking two minutes tops) when he decided it was time to leave. I wasn’t given any time to recover after I got back inside. There are also stories, of two drunk men, a nasty old woman, a cracked out woman, pickle lady, and sexual harassment I don’t have space for.
On my last few days of work, the old man pooped his pants (before even getting out of his car). I have sympathy, but it got everywhere! His front seat, the store scooter, and his back and legs. Also I found a large amount of warm hamburger meat stashed in the shelves, a broken jar of salsa (blamed on me), a broken jar of pickles (blamed on me), and an old woman had her leg gashed open by a pizza box.
A few years ago, when I was 20, I got a job working at a popular pizza chain answering the phone, placing orders and occasionally helping make pizzas. I got the job for extra money to help with college. The manager, “Chris,” seemed like a nice, cool guy. He was kinda cute and a little flirty, but I was a very naive 20 year-old, and didn’t think much of it. On my first day of work, a few of the fellow employees, Chris and I decided to head to a bar after work. At the bar, he was really fun and started flirting with me, but since he had a girlfriend, I just figured that he was just a flirty guy. A few weeks went by at work, I got into the routine of the job and became fairly good friends with everyone. I even got a job for one of my best friends. Chris and I would joke around at work, as would everyone else.
It all started falling into the drama category when one night, while everyone was at a bar for a fellow co-workers birthday, Chris started flirting with me and asked me on a date (oh, how I was so naive not to realize it was sexual harassment). I laughed it off, since he was drunk, and told him that I’m sure he is very happy with his girlfriend and he was just being silly. The next day, I pulled up into the parking lot and another car came squeeling to a stop at the spot next to me. I was a little taken aback and as I was grabbing my purse and hat, a woman knocked on my window. I realized it was Chris’s girlfriend, so I rolled it down. She looked like she’d been crying and proceeded to ask me if I was seeing him. I promised her I wasn’t and she asked if he had asked me out or had been hitting on me. I told her, honestly, that he had, but it was only when he had been drinking (how stupid was I?). She calmed down and thanked me for being honest with her.
I went into work and was a bit distraught. I went straight to Chris and told him I had to talk to him. I told him what happened and he just looked at me and said, “And?” I couldn’t believe that he saw there was nothing wrong with the situation. I told him that he needed to let his girlfriend know that he wants to be with her and maybe spend more time with her. He was just blase about it and said she needed to get over it. I emphasized that this made me uncomfortable and he needed to stop flirting with me. He seemed to get upset about this and then decided he was going home. One co-worker saw that I was upset and said, “Hey, I have a story that will make you laugh!” I am quoting this directly (it’s engraved in my mind, since I was shocked from how horrible it was): “My uncle worked at a school for ‘special people’ (he used a different word) and he took a girl into the janitor’s closet and had sex with her. She came out of the closet with her pants around her ankles, crying that her butt hurt.” He then began laughing like it was funny. I just stared at him in horror, excused myself and went outside to cry.
A few weeks went by without incident and I had begun to date a guy in one of my classes. One day he showed up while I was working and brought me a necklace that reminded him of me. I thought it was sweet, as did my best friend. But Chris told me that he didn’t approve of friends visiting employees while at work. Mind you, everyone had friends visiting and since we were attached to a gas station, everyone had people they knew coming in. Chris even said that the necklace looked cheap. I, stupidly, ignored him. About a week later, I got a phone call from work, while enjoying the day with my best friend. Chris said they were short on people and needed me to answer the phones. I told him I only had my shirt with me and had plans later. He said he only needed me to work for an hour and I could use his office to answer phones since I wasn’t dressed for work. My best friend decided to come with me and wait.
So, I went to work. When I got into his office he showed me how his phone worked and then went to make pizzas. Later he returned and suddenly closed the door, so it was just us in his office. He just stared at me and then this wonderful conversation happened:
Him: “So you have plans tonight?”
Me: “Um, yeah”
Him: “With that guy that came by a few weeks ago?”
Me: “No, me and my best friend are having a girls night out.”
Him: “I really don’t appreciate this.”
Me: “Wha-?”
Him: “You need to open your mind before you open your legs!!”
I sat there stunned for a second, then anger took over. I started screaming at him that he had no right to say that to me and that I quit. I took of the work shirt (I had a tank top underneath thankfully) and threw it at him. I stormed out of his office, told my friend that I needed to get the hell out of there. And that was the end of MVWJ. I actually saw Chris just a month ago at a local restaurant. He was there with some of the old fellow employees and they wanted me to come say hi. So, I went by and someone asked me if I was seeing anyone. I told them that I didn’t have time for a relationship. That’s when Chris said, “Oh, looks like she’s still a cold-hearted bitch.” I didn’t even know what to say except “Go f*** yourself” and left.
I found out last week, that he had gotten fired because he is addicted to meth.
