I started off working for "Target" back when I was still at school. It was supposed to be a temporary job, but I was there for about four years. I worked as a "check-out chick" as they are called in the vernacular, and it was not an enjoyable experience. I remember that when I first started, I used to make jokes about the store, and the customers used to love it, because the other "register operators" were quite dour. That was however, until one day... I was on shift and "doing my thing", when this guy came to my register to buy a few things. We chatted (as you do), and I remember him asking me about my employment conditions, and whether or not I was happy at Target. Since the question was highly inappropriate, I decided to make a quip at the expense of the store, and I jokingly replied that it was fine, but it wouldn't mind a bit more money. The next thing I knew, I'd been called in front of one of the managers. He informed me that a Social Worker had complained that the staff weren't getting paid enough, and had then (kindly) fingered me for giving him that impression. The manager asked me if I were happy, and I looked him the eye and told him that if I hadn't been content, I would have left. He backed off straight away, and then ran off somewhere. I guess I must have scared him from the reaction I received . So after that, there were far fewer jokes .
The problem, with the job was that it was so mind-numblingly dull, that it was a form of torture. The worst part was when they would give you a five-hour shift (with a fifteen minute break), and then give you another four or five hours with a one-hour gap in between. They called this a "split shift", because it meant that they didn't have to pay you for a lunch break (bastards). It was even worse when we had to work until midnight on sale days. I used to have nightmares about being on the registers when I got home and went to bed *shudder*.
After about four years of this, they dropped my shifts down to one every fortnight, and then refused to give me any more. They said that it was because of availabiliy, so I fiilled out a form for them and, lo and behold, they didn't have any available shifts for me. Because of this, I was forced to resign. They couldn't fire me because I was very good at my job, and my belief is that I was gettin too expensive to keep on, as they had cheaper fifteen year-olds around who would do the same job but for far less. I went home and decided to draft a polite letter to the Store Manager describing the many problems with the store. I sent the letter off and, to my suprise, I received a letter back from the Manager asking me to come in and discuss the letter with him. I decided that I would, and I went in later that week. Ironically, one of the problems that I had mentioned in the letter was a lack of communication, and when I entered the Manager's office, there was a stranger there. He introduced himself, and apparently, he was the new manager. It turned out that the old manager had left a month prior to this, but only a few (upper Management) people knew . We discussed various aspects of th e letter, and he played a very official line, but couldn't defend half of the problems. At the end, I asked him if I could place the letter (which was respectful, and perfectly reasonable) in the "tea room" so that the other staff could read it, and thus hopefully engage in some constructive analysis. He felt however, that it would be "damaging to morale" and refused. Needless to say, Coles Myer are now my sworn enemies .
Well, that was a nice little trip down memory lane. I hope you enjoyed it .
Edit I could go into more detail about the ineptitude of the staff, and the money (and consoles) that they stole, but I think I've said enough. For now .
Edited by - brother esquilax on 6/7/2004 3:47:12 PM