Bossy customers who think they're better than me because I am behind a counter.
Start publishing on
DD Comics!
THE THING YOU HATE MOST ABOUT YOUR JOB
I work 8 and half to 10 hour days. Half of which I spend in a freezing metal box, with dim lighting. The other half is spent in a dirt fill warehouse lifting and moving until I drop. The good news is I work with one other person for most of the day. But the fist 2 hours is spent with a bunch of women who are all PMSing at the same time. I come home everyday stiff and soar. The money…well….it's nothing to brag about. But it gets the bills paid.
So…the thing I hate the most about my job…how pyshically demanding it is. And this makes me a pretty buff young lady.
:cry2:
This is going to sound pretty awful of me, but you know what I hate the most about my job? How amazingly uncool the people act.
I mean, they're nice people, sure. (Well, most of them, anyways.) But it's like working in that dingy beige labyrinth sucked the humor and life out of them. I hear people every day making these stupid jokes, stuff like "Yup! Just another day closer to retirement!" or "Heyyy, workin' hard or hardly workin'?" or some equally lame nugget of office humor. And everybody laughs at these things, laughs no matter how many times they've heard them or how awful they are. I've just learned to wear a confused look on the outside when somebody tries to joke around with me, to disguise my moaning on the inside.
Fellow co-workers, if you're going to be witty, be witty. Don't just make a half-hearted swipe at comedy and then go back to working on your little spreadsheet or whatever. I'm not doubting you're interesting people on the inside– quite the contrary, I'm sure you all have interesting backstories. It's just that you need to keep that coolness going inside the office as well as outside of it. Brightening up and/or getting rid of the bland cubicles and the hideous, depressing furniture might help, as would getting rid of the obnoxious "corporate casual" dress code. Also, while I have your attention, could I get a cubicle that isn't right next to the microwave? Whenever somebody heats something up, the smell lingers for, like, days. Especially fish.
IMPORTANT FOOTNOTE: One of my co-workers is named– no lie– Horace Boner. Just thought I'd throw that out there.
I generally like my job. I work in a movie theatre/resteraunt/bar. I could go on a "Clerks" style rant here about the different types of customers we can't stand, but that happens in any job where you have to deal with the public. I love my coworkers, the owners of the place are cool, and I get to meet a buch of neat comedians when they come play there. (most of the people from Best Week Ever on VH1.) I had a major altercation with an ex boyfriend at work, and where a regular job would fire me for it they told me to get a restraining order and banned him from the theatre. I have a degree, but if I can't find a job in art I'd rather work there than at some office. It's like a family.
I have to be at work at 5:30 am Monday through Friday, and I'm a natural night owl. Then there is the reality of what I do. Before, it wasn't too bad, but now we're in a quiet lull that is borng me to tears. So not only am I completely exhausted, but I'm expected to stay awake for it. Also, while my direct boss is awesome, the higher ups that I have to deal with are annoying, unrealistic, stupid, stupid people.
Ah that felt good.
i hate our customers. We have the dumbest people ever call and buy stuff that they hate. I dont know why they buy it. They complain about how cheap and tacky it is while they give their credit cards numbers. We have to ask for a number on their order form, its a number in a pink shaded box, which we state when asking for the number, they will say "the one in the pink box" Yes. Then they read the number in the blue box. Every single time. You ask if they have coupons or discounts and they always say no, then at the end of the order, "Oh, don't I get the discounts?"
How the short, fat, retarded jackass of a man gets the highest rank.
We can't go home until our platoon sargent lets us, or tells us. One day we were sitting around waiting for this order.
4 hours pass.
We get a call. Its him he says —no shit— this:
Him:"Hey are you guys still working?"
Me:"yeah"
Him: "Oh shit I totally forgot you were working! I went home hours ago, you guys can go home now"
me: "I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!" (I didn't really say that)
Or theres the time in Iraq when we came under fire and he dropped his weapon ran away and hid in a ditch. That was awesome.
So in short: The Leadership.
DDComics is community owned.
The following patrons help keep the lights on. You can support DDComics on Patreon.
- Banes
- JustNoPoint
- RMccool
- Abt_Nihil
- Gunwallace
- cresc
- PaulEberhardt
- Emma_Clare
- FunctionCreep
- SinJinsoku
- Smkinoshita
- jerrie
- Chickfighter
- Andreas_Helixfinger
- Tantz_Aerine
- Genejoke
- Davey Do
- Gullas
- Roma
- NanoCritters
- Teh Andeh
- Peipei
- Digital_Genesis
- Hushicho
- Palouka
- Cheeko
- Paneltastic
- L.C.Stein
- Zombienomicon
- Dpat57
- Bravo1102
- TheJagged
- LoliGen
- OrcGirl
- Fallopiancrusader
- Arborcides
- ChipperChartreuse
- Mogtrost
- InkyMoondrop
- jgib99
- Call me tom
- OrGiveMeDeath_Ind
- Mks_monsters
- GregJ
- HawkandFloAdventures
- Soushiyo