Chapter 3: Work Load

First off, I’d like to throw out there that this first job is where I met some of the best and worse people. Had it not been for this place I never would have become the person I am to day.

My first day went just as you would imagine, like a blur. The women around me were running around like chickens with their heads cut off (Little did I know that this was exactly how everyday would be).  The owner of the company, was very intimidating. He would walk around the office not looking anyone in the eyes and only ever went to talk to two of the main ladies there. Now, the thing about these two ladies were that they knew what the hell they were doing, no if’s, and’s, or but’s. They had your respect before you walked through the door. It was my honor to work directly with one of the head ladies, and for the next three years we would become a team like no other.

Let me paint you a picture, the office was an open floor plan with cubicles, so everyone’s space was your space. You could hear every conversation, every pen click, and every order that was thrown around. This building had multiple closed off areas or offices if you will, that had the same type of feel. This is where “the magic happened”, the owner had to keep local finance offices up and running. It was our job to make sure loans and employees were on the rise. If you are baffled by why employees needed to be on the rise, I will explain this all in due time.

My coworkers were all cut from their own piece of cloth. You learned quick who was of priority and who were the bottom dwellers. The owner would probably have like it better to be called the king, of this little kingdom. He orders his employees around with out thinking, but the crazy part is that he knows EXACTLY how he is treating you. He would tell you to do the simplest task, and if you were not fast enough or accurate enough he would ream your butt in front of everyone. Talk about being the laughing stock of the office. But the only thing was, you were not The Jester, but an example. It was purely for the owner’s display of power. Every employee never laughed about it, or made fun of you because they were once there and had every chance of being the next one.

So now that you have a picture of the environment, let me tell you about the women I worked with. My supervisor, Rubix, she had the finger speed that left sparks on her office phones. Yes phones, she had two phones on her desk that were always ringing at the same time. Objective of my job was never, NEVER, let her phones go unanswered. I could never leave my post unattended, if I did, Rubix would be next for a reaming. Then there was Slay, she was personally responsible for finding people to staff the our offices nationwide. Slay was never allowed to leave her desk, if she did, her and Rubix were in trouble. Then there was the Hobbit, she was responsible for getting the people Slay found hired and make sure the Owner had his daily serving of Ass Kissing. Then finally there was the Queen B of the office, so we will call her Mrs. B; Mrs. B, had the owner’s respect, he was never to cross with her the way he crossed everyone else. With that in mind you have an idea of the pecking order.

It took me a year to get use to this environment and learn how to perfect my position. What did I do you may be wondering? I did everything Rubix asked me to do and everything she never told me to do. Over the course of a few months, everyone could see the click me and Rubix had. When the boss went out of town to “shape up” stores and their sales volume, hell was breaking loose for those employees there. Everyone at HQ had never seen that type of rage, nor did we ever want to. Upon his return back to HQ there was no amount of preparing you could do to deal with the amount of work load that came when he walked through that front door. The only thing that went smoothly was the routine that Rubix and I had going, we were answering phones, assigning work, dealing with auditor, doing auditor work; to be honest, there is no amount of explaining that could can be done to show you how much work was needed to be done.

As an employee working there, you had no rights. You needed time away from work? You were biting your nails for an approval, the owner could shut you down with every excuse in the book. If you did not like it, there was the door. You had Jury duty? You had to provide proof, you needed proof for every time you needed to take off from work. It did not matter, his motto was “what is more important then being at work? You obviously don’t need the money if you are needing to take off.” So if you think this is ridiculous, then you will come to find out that there was no being late to work either. You would either get written up, suspended, or fired (depending on what your job was). So now let me shed some light on the pay that this wonderful job had to offer. If you were not on salary you were not making enough to make bread. Not for the abuse the owner put you through, not even if you made salary. But, if by some slim chance you were on salary, you had already worked there too long to find another job that would pay you what the Boss pays you. He had you any way he wanted you. You were either too young to be in charge, too stupid to send a fax, you made to much money to be just doing what he said, you would never be more then what he said you were, and you were never going to find a job that pays you what he pays to send a fax.

We were all faced with the fact that we would never leave that place.

We had to either get really good at nothing or get our asses reamed for nothing.

 

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