Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Thursday, Jun. 28, 2007 - 11:58 p.m.

At morning meeting today, the GM was briefing us on the new district manager's expected visit today and wanted to make sure everyone knew the acceptable shrink rate and where the areas of high shrinkage (inventory loss, aka theft) are. This led to what was basically a group discussion on which areas were the correct answer, and since it was pretty much everyone talking at once, when it was over, I very quietly turned to the girl next to me and asked, "so what are they?" She started to answer, but before she could get much out, the GM had major fucking hissy fit, screaming at me in front of everyone about how this was an important meeting, but since I apparently know everything and have so much to say, perhaps I should lead the meeting, so why don't I just go ahead and hold my own meeting? Both of us girls stood there staring at him, and then I tried to tell him I'd just been clarifying which areas were the ones I needed to answer with if I were asked, and he cut me off and continued screaming. I tried again and was cut off again. When he finished screaming, I told him I'd only been making sure I understood the answer, and he said something about not caring and insulted me again, and then he finished the meeting. I really wanted to quit, but I didn't want to be a shit and walk out on the day of the DM's first visit, especially since I was the only person working the information desk. So I stayed. I spent the next two hours pretty much crying, but I stayed. I figured if he didn't apologize by the end of the day, I'd hand in my 2-week's notice.

He didn't. Even though during my lunch he walked into the breakroom when I was the only one in it and proceeded to ignore me.

By the end of the day, I'd managed to talk myself down enough to decide that perhaps I should line up another job before I go and quit the only bill-paying capability I have, what with not having been able to save up anything so far.

But as I'm sitting here tonight, I'm more and more dreading going in tomorrow. So I think to myself, I'll just call the store and ask the MOD that I get along with really well who the opening MOD is tomorrow, so that I can relax and start clean tomorrow. I figured it'd be either Mich or Mike, since that's who it usually is (or the good S, but she's on vacation), and that once I know that, my heart will stop pounding, and I'll be able to sleep tonight. Especially since at most, I work with the GM maybe once a week.

Yeah. No such fucking luck. MOD tomorrow AM? Mr. Scream. And Mike, who will be in at noon (I'm there at 8:45a), wants to discuss what happened today, as well as a conflict I'm having with C, the asshole from the breakroom that one day. I'd mentioned to the other lead cashier that I hate working with C because he always rolls his eyes and makes crappy comments to me when I need something from him, and she felt that that kind of attitude should be brought to the attention of management, since apparently I am not the first person to complain of it to her. But for some reason, she thought that with me being new, it would carry more weight, since I have no history with the guy. So Mike feels we need to have a sit down about that and the thing today. How awesome is that? I'd rather have my teeth drilled, and I'm actually having chest pains now. I seriously want to call and tell Mike I quit over the phone. :(

I hate stuff like this. I really, really do. It just makes me feel like the biggest asshat misfit in the entire world. I can't understand why I find it so hard to fit in with other people. When I was younger, I didn't either, but I didn't care as much, and I hadn't had 20 years of history to look back on and realize what a dysfunctional social fuck-up I apparently am. And it's gotten a lot worse since I started working in television. It used to be I'd start a new job and some of the people would hate me for the first 2 months or so, then they'd figure out that I wasn't really the bitch they thought I was, and they'd declare truce. And a few just always thought I was a bitch, but they usually tended to be the people I thought were useless assholes, so it didn't really matter. We kept out of each other's ways, and that was the end of it.

But now that I work jobs that only last 3 months anyway, I can't afford to have people think I'm a bitch for 2 or 3 months. The job ends before they figure out I'm not. And I'm not blaming them, I blame whatever it is I do that gives the impression. I don't know what it is, because at work, I'm always polite (90% of the time, anyway; nobody's faultless), I really try to stay on my best behavior (as opposed to here, because this blog is my turf, and you either like me or you don't, and either way, it doesn't make much difference, though truth be told, I would rather you like me. but I'm not going to curb my language or keep my opinions to myself so that you will, because this is my venting space where I get to say all the stuff I bite back when shit goes haywire in my life, which it seems to have been having a field day with for the last 6 years.), and I work really hard to keep customers and coworkers happy, because I hate having to deal with conflict more than anything on the planet. It scares the fuck out of me, so I work really hard to keep people happy and not mad at me. And maybe that's where I go wrong. Maybe if I were walking around all "fuck you AND the horse you rode in on; kiss my ass," people would be more respectful of me. Maybe it's the desperate need to please that marks me as an asshat. I don't know. I just know I'm so, so tired of never fitting in.

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