#also!! i found out tonight that my asm is leaving too like!! what!!
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hi iām just gonna spill my guts under the cut donāt mind me
tomorrow is my last day of my current job. iāve been with the company for eight & a half years, iāve been at this store for four years, & iāve been in my current position for two years. while i am so incredibly over the company & working in retail, iām having the worst time coming to terms with the fact that i wonāt be seeing my coworkers every day anymore.
iāve been hugging people all week. yesterday was my last truck (iām the operations supervisor & the main job is running the truck unloading process) & i told myself i wasnāt going to cry & i made it seven hours into my shift but one specific coworker was leaving for the day & she told me she wouldnāt be in the rest of the week & i lost it & i couldnāt stop crying. i made it through today until i was walking to my car bc i had hugged another friend goodbye.
i was talking to one coworker & she said āwhen they hired me, she said āweāre like a big familyā & i said āyeah sure šā but i canāt believe how true it is. we literally are a family & itās hard to see someone leaveā. i literally see these people more than i see my own family.
i know iāll find new people to love & care about at my new job but it wonāt be the same. leaving my old store hurt too but it feels like this is hitting harder. i know iām doing what i need to do for me & my future but god does this part suck.
iām going to be an absolute mess tomorrow.
#iām going to a friendsgiving & then picking emily up from the airport all after work tomorrow like#donāt get me wrong iām excited for those things but iām like#how am i supposed to just act like things are chill lmao#i most certainly am not chill about this rn#also!! i found out tonight that my asm is leaving too like!! what!!#that confirmed for me that iām leaving at the right time#even tho i feel guilty that itās right before christmas#anyway thats all#iāll be here crying for the next. idk probably week#weāll see
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Bad Manager
Story time. All this talk of Karens has got me reminiscing about my time in retail. Way back in the wild of my youth, before my chick and i really started getting heavy into out relationship and she mellowed me out, I was a manager at the most ghetto Gamestop in the greater Sacramento area. I actually got the job like i got most things back then; After an argument over Dragon Ball Z. Thatās actually how i met my chick, and argument over DBZ, but i digress. I had a thirty minute debate with the assistant manager at the time and he immediately gave me an interview with the store manager. This is, of course, before i found out how sh*tty Gamestop corporate is in real life. In about a year, I worked my way up from seasonal part-time, all the way to Store Manager and i have a Karen story for each phase of my brief career.
Seasonal Part-Time: When youāre a part timer at the āStop, you are basically house b*tch. They make you do the most mundane bullsh*t. Clean the bathrooms, take out the garbage, vacuum the stores, etc. B*tch sh*t. The most mundane task you have, though, is f*cking alphabetizing the goddamn game racks. I HATED that sh*t. it was tedious and f*cking stupid. Once, it took me my entire four hour shift just to properly arrange the PS2 rack. Sh*t was whack, son!
So i finish this sh*t early one day, probably about an hour and a half before iām off, and this Karen comes in with her kid. He wants a PS2 game. Fine. This little asshole f*cks up the entire system because he canāt find his game. I kept telling the little sh*t that everything was in alphabetical order but he aināt care. Heās an idiot. After about ten minutes of watching this bundle of cooties and Capri Sun ruin my hard work, i ask him if he knows what āAlphabetizeā means and his mom blows up! She accuses me of being cruel and how i had no right to chastise her child and that she would have my job.Obviously, this dumb b*tch escalated the scenario and i had to get my manager. She actually demanded a free game because i asked if her kid understood the order of his ABCs.
Full-Time: Once you graduate to full-time, you get to be looked upon like you are a responsible individual and not house b*tch anymore. Thereās usually new part-timers for that. I became third key, a person whoās basically management but gets no management pay, after the ASM who hired me, left. Everyone moved up a rank after that. I started getting opening shifts and sh*t. This is before i was disillusioned with work life and still applied myself for faceless conglomerate who see you as expendable numbers. Donāt worry, weāll get there soon. Since iām Third Key, i get opening shifts now. Still donāt do payroll or take corporate calls, but i do everything else management does. As such, theeĀ are days when itās just me in the store. Iām the proxy manager because the two others above me make too much hourly and itās cheaper for me to act as management instead of paying actual management.
Itās, like, six minutes before the store closes. My pat-timer is winding down their ABCing busy work because corporate decreed it so. Iām closing out one o the registers and setting the alarm on the safe to open because that sh*t takes, like, 30 minutes and my ass wants to go home ASAP. We are breezing, man, and about to be out this b*tch in record time. NOPE! Six minutes, man. I remember very distinctly because i glanced at the little clock on the register. Six minutes. This wild Karen rushes my door with her four goddamn crotch spawns six goddamn minutes before lock up! They destroy my store. My part-timer and eye can only watch in dismay. all that work. all that prep. all of it, mute. The f*cked up thing? This b*tch aināt even buy nothing. We were located next to a Togos.She had the audacity to walk up and small talk at me about how they were waiting for their sandwiches to finish and just needed to kill time.
I tell her that we were closing and she told me, and i quote, āNot with me and my kids in the store.ā 9 rolls around andĀ tell her we have to lock the doors and sheās like, āGo ahead.ā I explain to her that iām not legally allowed to lock up the store with customers on the premises. She looks me dead in the eyes and says, ā Well i guess youāre gonna get some OT tonight then, right?ā Iāll never forget that sh*t. That was the first time i felt Retail Rage. I wanted to murder this b*tch. Straight up keelhaul this hoe and set her little monsters on fire. I maintained my composure and after about forty extra minutes, they left. I ended up finishing the close by myself because i had to sen the part-timer home. thatās ABCs, Shelving, closing registers, re-timing the safe, etc. I didnāt get ot of that store until about 11 pm. And had a morning shift at 7. All because a Karen turned my store into a waiting room/playground six minutes before close.
Assistant Manager: My Store Manager got into some sh*t with corporate and they fired him on straight BS. Probably time card fraud, i dunno. I do know he had been with the company for eleven years so f*ck em. I got bumped up to Second Key. Got a little it of a raise. Made schedules now, officially, even though iād been doing that sh*t since i was Third Key. Itās fine. I can do refunds now and give discounts. Iām āThe Managerā and, boy, do you hear about it!
Gamestop is about money. They never want to lose a sale. As such, we have a POS system that letās you look up merchandise throughout the district. If we donāt have something, we can send you to another store that does. Thatās how this story starts. I get a call from another store asking about a game. We have one copy left. They tell me to hold it because someone is coming to get it. Fine. Karen comes in a backpack full of trade-in to pay for this game and get a few extra credits for a birthday gift. Whatever. Back then, we had to test every game that came i. This b*tch had, like, 30. Fine. She also had an old, ratty, PS1. The rectangle ones. That was going to be an argument because she was only getting, like, four dollars for it. She kept gloating about how she got it at launch when she was young and what not. Motherf*cker was as old as Jesus. Also, it rattled. We found out later that was because there was dead roaches in it but thatās a story for another day.
I finish this ridiculous trade in; Tested all the games, made sure they read on both PS2 and PSOne. a few were too scratched to read so i had to run them through the disc cleaner and they ended up being viable after. I trade all of this sh*t in, and the b*tch gets upset when i tell her sheās walking out with less than a hundred in credit and even less than that in cash. She blows up on me, demands to see my manager. I tell her i am the manger, and she just starts going in. I immediately disengage and become visibly indifferent because, if i donāt, i would have beat that b*tch up in front of her children. Like, straight up curb stomp cunts and sh*t. She berates me for being an hourly employee and how she makes more than i do the entire year in a week and all this other sh*t. She just kept getting more and more upset at the fact that i was indifferent to her bullsh*t. B*tch even drops the n*gga wit hte hard āRā a few times, like i didnāt notice. I maintain through all of this racist disrespect. That aināt what she expected and it definitely wasnāt the reaction she wanted. She demands the corporate number, takes all her games, leaves the Sony RoachMotel, and storms out. I get written up a week later for being an asshole to the customer. I literally just stood there while she turned bright red racist hulk, all over my person, but iām in the wrong. Okay, Karen.
Bad Manager: My Senior ASM quits because Gamestop is on that bullsh*t so now iām big man on campus. My DM is forced to promote me to acting Store Manager. Basically, iām responsible for everything the actual manager does, but i donāt get paid what the manager i pad. Itās that Third Key bullsh*t but, you know, not. By now, itās been about six months and i do not care. Full on disillusioned and well on my way to outright militant. Thatās what Retail does to you. It slowly kills your joy and makes you hate people. I already hated people but this? This sh*t just effortlessly validated why. So itās me and the other ASM in the store. I hire some regular to round out the staff an change literally everything about the store.
First thing to go was that whack ass dress code. I believe you do your best work when youāre comfortable so it had to go. The next thing i nixed was the ABCs. That sh*t was stupid and a waste of time. As long as the helves were neat, we were good. The next thing i did was spread the reserve and sh*t around. I held a meeting and everyone agreed that was best for the entire store. Numbers were met and no one straggled. Everyone got to keep their jobs and i didnāt have to cut hours. The last major change i instituted was letting staff play games, in store, during downtime. If everything was legit int the store and it was slow, go ahead, pop one of the used titles in a test station, and have a blast. I donāt care. Just donāt be a dick to customers because i donāt want to get hassled. I donāt want you to get hassled. No one wants t get hassled. The time that i was in charge of that store, our numbers were spectacular and we killed even the richest stores in the district. Itās dope how well a team works together when they have high morale ya dig.
One day, i get a call from my new Third key. He and his part timer, his wife at the time, were opening. I wasnāt scheduled to come in that day but he was hysterical. Apparently, this Karen didnāt like her trade in quote and called the f*cking cops. Sac PD was in my store, intimidating the sh*t out of my staff, all because this b*tch thought she deserved more than 20 dollar for her used Gamecube or some sh*t. I walk my ass all the way to work, on my day off, and diffuse the situation with the cops. I explain that prices are set by corporate and there was nothing we could do about the trade in value. I then ask way the f*ck they were even giving validity to this crazy b*tches allegations when she freely admits nothing of hers was actually stolen. Cops didnāt like my questioning their motives and hassled us for another thirty minutes but whatever. They left eventually. I left. The Karen left. The it came back.
This b*tch was in my store for a total of three f*cking hours, trying to sabotage every transaction throughout my Third Keyās shift. Eventually, he clocked out and left. His wife stayed for a few extra hours and this Karen b*tch took the opportunity to just assault her with insults. My part-timer maintained a strong facade. I was so proud of her, man. A lot of the sh*t said was very cruel personal attacks about my part timerās heritage and status. She was a Ukranian refugee, came over to escape Russian aggression. Gorgeous chick, for real. Very funny. Very affable. Bluest eyes iāve ever seen on a person. They were unnervingly clear and mad piercing. She was also dummy thicc. Like, she had that super stronk Snow Bunny charm. Letās just say i made sure to schedule her for a full shift when the Madden and 2K reserves went live.
Anyway, the actual scheduled ASM just hid in the back room while this assault was occurring because he was weenie. Sweet kid, total puss. Karen was going in on how immigrants were the worst and that since she couldnāt understand my part timerās accent she didnāt deserve to be in the country or have this job. She effectively called her a slut, several times, by insinuating she probablyĀ āF*ck your big black boss for this job.ā My part timer endured for hours. When she took her break, she immediately called me in tears. She filled me in on the situation. I couldnāt make it back to my store fast enough, man. i blew up on this Karen. I called her out on her elitist bullsh*t, her classist ignorance, and the fact that we didnāt need her stupid f*cking business. I attacked her appearance. infantilized her entire lifestyle. I told her she was a depleted cum-dumpster jealous that my part timer was so vibrant with because her genuine shine reminded the Karen of everything you lost by being a suburban cliche. A middle class punchline. I banned her for being a toxic b*tch. She left my store in gross, sobbing, tears. No one f*cks with my crew like that. I got written up again.
The next day, i was on shift and the Karen bought her husband in to āspeakā with me. Part timer and i opened and this big ass, corn-fed, white boy, walks in, bobbing his head around like a rooster. Iām half-sleep behind the register because insomnia, so i let my part timer do her thing. Iām over yonder, full Sith mode, Decepticon hoodie full cowl and bad attitude, wishing a motherf*cker would. And a motherf*cker did. This motherf*cker is right red, trying to assail my part timer, again, just like his wife did before.Speaking of Karen, sheās out front, pacing the entrance like a shark, expecting the fireworks her beau was supposed to bring. Not today, Satan. My part timer was standing her ground, using a lot of firm language, but this motherf*cker is big and i start seeing him using that size to intimidate.
I, immediately, physically step between dude and my part timer. Heās about three inches taller than i am so he presses my gangster. I pull back my hood, and tell him iām the manager of the store but i can clock out and just be a n*gga in the street if he wanted the Smoke. He didnāt want the Smoke. I called him a b*tch to his face, his wife a cock-gobbling hoe, and his mother a slut. He still did not want the Smoke. He bailed. His wife started gassing on him for being a b*tch as they both shrunk away like the cowards they really were. Never saw either one after that. I didnāt get written up for that though. No f*cks given. Bad Manager life. Gang gang, n*gga.
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