I'll be headed back to California next month. We're opening a new store there, and I'm on the team that will help set it up. We'll walk into an empty shell and do everything from laying the floor and building the shelves to stocking it and making it look pretty. My manager and DM keep telling me "it'll be a great opportunity for you." But no one is answering the question of "opportunity for what?" I tried to pin Head Boy down on that one and he responded with his trademark "Huh?" He finally wimped out with "I don't know, management maybe?" I told him I'd believe it when I see it. They've been stringing me along like that for nearly 2 years now. I firmly believe that I will never advance in my current district, as my DM and I have butted heads too many times. I could transfer to another district without moving, and the DM there loves me, but I really, reallly, really don't want to commute. We'll see how this plays out.
I arrived at work yesterday morning in the back of a police car. No, wait, let me back up a bit...
My car died on the way to work yesterday. It was shortly before 6 a.m., very cold, and very dark. There was no shoulder where I could pull over, so I had to slowly maneuver down the hill into a turn lane. More than a dozen cars passed me. Some pulled up behind me and paused, until cars in the next lane flashed their lights so the pauser could get around me. Number of cars that passed me: at least 15. Number of cars that stopped to offer assistance: Zero. Once the car was parked, I got out and started walking. Eventually, a cop picked me up, half frozen, and drove me the rest of way to the store. He had such nice things to say, like, "You have an hour to move your car. After that, I'll move it for you." Topping it all off, my manager was walking in at the exact moment I arrived in the back of the police car.
I thought this season was full of thoughts of giving, helping others, being kind to your fellow humans. Apparently that "peace on earth, goodwill to men" thing doesn't apply to half-frozen motorists before 6 a.m. To all the people who passed me by: I hope Santa put coal in your stockings, because I think you made the baby jesus cry.
Sparky's mom passed away yesterday morning, after losing an 8-year battle with breast cancer that ultimately attacked her brain. All warring, squabbling, and power struggles have been put aside. We've all split his shifts between us (except for Head Boy, who only picked up part of a short day's shift). The Queen of Mean (now rather endearingly grouchy) and I have worked it all out: in front of this invisible line is her territory, behind it is mine. I'll be working about 80 hours this week, and will miss the funeral, when I'll be minding the store. I'm already in excruciating pain from trying to do all the physical stuff he usually takes upon himself, but if anyone tells him that (are you listening, Miss M?), I will kill them.
So, I accidentally dumped my purse on the floor at work yesterday. Out spilled: a tampon, a pack of cigarettes, a knife, and a bottle of vicodin. That's pretty much my life in a nutshell.
Will someone please explain to me why Sparky the Stock Boy Wine Manager got the job instead of me? One would think it required decent knowledge about wine. I have had to explain to Sparky some fairly basic wine things lately, including:
1. Picpoul is made from picpoul, not sauvignon blanc. Considering the picpoul is one of our best sellers, you'd think he'd know this by now.
2. Anjou is a region, not a brand.
3. "The French wine that has something to do with the pope" is Chateauneuf du Pape. "Pape" means Pope. Get it through your thick skull.
I know that these aren't the sort of questions to which you would expect correct answers from the average man on the street. But the Wine Manager should know this kind of shit--the answers should roll off his tongue without a moment's hesitation.
Then again, I also had to explain to Head Boy that prosecco is a bubbly, and "spumante" means bubbly, so just because the box says "spumante" does not mean it's not a prosecco and we should send it back because the vendor sent us the wrong product.
I'm surrounded by idiots.
Hear ye, hear ye: Christmas is exactly 2 weeks away. You know you will want wine with Christmas dinner, you know you need to buy your boss a bottle of wine, and you know you need to buy your dad/wife/letter carrier/hairdresser a bottle of wine. You've done all your other Christmas shopping by now, so why do you leave the wine to the last minute? Don't rush in here in a panic on the 24th and then freak out because we don't have what you want. Buy it now, mmmkay?
P.S. New Year's Eve will be on December 31st this year. Just wanted to give you a heads up.
When you tell me you're here to buy a bottle of wine, I'm going to ask you how much you want to spend. For the love of [insert deity of your choice here], please don't say "it doesn't matter." We have wines ranging from $3 to $1100, so if you could narrow it down just a teensy, weensy, little bit more than "it doesn't matter," that'd be grand. Kthxbi.
Thanksgiving is two days away. If you haven't bought your wine by now, you're an idiot. If you send The Guy Who Knows Nothing About Food So You Told Him To Bring Wine to my store to pick out the wine, you're an even bigger idiot.
Dear Queen of Mean:
We do not have private email accounts, nor do we have private email folders. Do you not realise that any employee with half a brain can log in from any computer and read the store's email, including deleted items, sent items, and subfolders? If you don't want me to see what you're saying about me, please do not sent it from the store's account.
xoxo
PP
Today's email:
[Head Boy]-
Thinking about it, I do not feel comfortable training a new employee on a Friday. It will be interrupted training and therefore confusing. I see [Pinot Princess] is [on the cashier schedule] also; however I do not trust her to remain up front. She will be doing other things and selling wine.... [yeah, it's my fucking JOB, bitch!]
-[The Queen of Mean]
A blast from the not-too-distant past:
Head Boy:
I am still having issues with [Pinot Princess] harassing [Tweedledum]. She is leaving notes on his register about gum chewing...[C]ould someone please inform her the Cashiers are my responsibility? Coming from me she will not like it.
-[The Queen of Mean]
And the highlight of the year:
DM:
I've noticed some employees are giving vendors a discount on their sodas and water. This is against our company policy. Please respond privately to [my email account]. It really sucks to be a narc around certain people.
