Mooktastical posted:

This is great advice. What helps me is that old quote, "that which does not kill me, makes me stronger." Dealing with this kind of vitriol at least makes one less likely to perpetuate it, I hope.

I do night stock. I stock pet food, cat litter, paper towels, and toilet paper. My employer is a union shop. What this means is that any employee that is lazy or incompetent is shielded from getting what they deserve, while the rest of us have union dues deducted from our pay. That being said, I know unions are a necessary evil, and I even support mine despite my grievances.

The only reason I'm bringing it up it all is one of my fellow employees, who we'll call "Jim". "Jim" is from Ghana, and has accepted the lord Jesus Christ as his personal savior. He's quite fun to troll, when the opportunity arises. "Jim" also moves slower than molasses in January. He is not expected to improve, or even approach the productivity level of a normal adult. Normally, this would be accepted, but he recently got a second job, and had to request to come in later than the normal 11-7 shift. This allowed my ingenious bosses to cut his hours down from full time to less than even part time.

Toward the end of the night, after I was done stocking the dogfood isle, my supervisor asks if I'm going to be able to fit everything in with my other backstock. I tell him that I doubt it, as the skid that holds the 20+ lbs. bags is full to the point of being unstable. I ask him if I can work it, so as to clear some room off of it and make it more stable. This is when he tells me that I was obviously going slow tonight, and refuses. While we're having this conversation, I glance at the clock on my phone, and it's 5:14. I'm supposed to be done by 5 so I can pretty up the store with the rest of the wage-slaves. Tonight, however, I'll be doing some of "Jim's" isle during that time, since he will be sent home after 4 hours. Anyway, I go back into the stock room, and I start putting everything away. The little stuff fits onto its assigned carts without issue, but the skid of dog food is about 4 or 5 feet tall, and wobbles as I lift it up onto its assigned spot in the racks. Predictably, one of the 50 pounders falls off. On the way down, the raised handle of one of the carts breaks its fall, and it splits, spilling dog food everywhere. When I'm almost done cleaning up the mess, my supervisor comes in and quietly says, "Don't put this back up, I'll work it."

So I get it all picked up, and on my way out, I glance at the time. It's 5:48. I wasted about a half an hour due to an easily foreseeable pseudo-accident. Awesome. So I throw "Jim's" last skid in about 40 minutes. In this time, the rest of the crew has gotten the store all pretty-like, and I'm free to throw that huag skid of dog food. I end up getting it done with plenty of time to still clock off, with 5 precious minutes to spare.

Before I wrote this post, I didn't think it'd have so many . My apologies on that, hopefully it isn't a pain to read...