Solomon Revisited

Today started off as a fairly simple day. It was a Saturday morning and the tone was having a party, so most people were busy or still asleep. I listened to music, put out some beer, and tried to find other ways to occupy my time. Well, I found one. Someone had just changed the big sign out front (finally, no one wants to buy tickets for the May 30th DJ on June 15th) and they left the big bin of letters in the back. This left me with a solid two hours of fun and spelling.

From that point on, the day went crazy. I’ve put off on telling you guys all of the drama going around at the liquor store because I just worried it would take too long. Well, it probably will. A few weeks ago one of the girls working at the liquor store didn’t show up for her shift. Apparently, the owners had said something she didn’t take very well and so everyone assumed she quit. Later that night her boyfriend came in and asked if she called in. I said she didn’t and asked whether or not she had quit. No, he said, their kid was just sick and she had taken them to the hospital. Fair enough, I phoned and told the manager and all was good again. Then, at ten o’clock the next morning I got a phone call. She didn’t show again, and no one else felt like working. Could I work? Well, I guess so, so I did. The girl was done, she showed up a couple of days later to buy beer and was asked to leave. She left her keys, and no one ever spoke a word of any of it.

The owners had hired a girl they knew to work one day a week at the bar around this same time. Without explaining to her what was going they sent her over to the liquor store that same morning I was called in. “I guess I work here now.” “I guess I’m training.” Apparently, the owners were fairly fed up with the manager and were considering firing her and giving the position to the new girl. So, with the promise of a good wage and full time hours the girl who was going to work one day a week at the bar quit her other job and moved full time to the liquor store. The manager was phoned and made aware that she would have to change her schedule, and she flipped out and asked if they were trying to fire her. Apparently, the owners said no but made her well aware of her poor standing. She was even told that her staff disliked her. A fact I would have preferred been left out of a totally unrelated argument.

The next night the manager came in during my shift and told me she was going to have to work late to finish doing some month end work. After a while she said she had to go pick up her husband from work and left. She came back, then later on decided she would do it the next day and went over to the bar. She started doing her usual routine and started finding things I could be putting away.

“Its okay, my shift isn’t done. I’ve got it. Seriously, I can do it… Don’t worry about it, go back over to the bar and enjoy the party.”
“I’m just going to do some of this.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“Wuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh.”

That’s right, she was crying. Bawling even. “You don’t really hate me, do you?” I stood there dumbstruck as she told me about how mean they had been to her, how she didn’t know if she could keep up with it, how she was doing such a good job and didn’t get it, and just how generally bad things were. I didn’t know what to do. I nodded and shook my head and raised my eyebrow and giggled under my breath and shook my head a little more (behind her back this time). Nothing ever came of it, she didn’t quit and no one fired her.

Which leads us to today. Or last night. The guy who works there phoned the new girl and asked her to work today. She said yes, but early this morning remembered about some plans she had and phoned to say she couldn’t come in after all. He showed up and picked up his check (I worked this morning) and mentioned in passing that he “hoped she showed up” before I had any idea what was going on. She showed up and I asked her if she was working and she said no. She had told him she couldn’t and he ignored it. Later he came in to pick up a couple of beer and I asked him about it.

“If anyone asks, I wasn’t here. I’m just not going to show up.” He said as he signed his credit card receipt, ultimately proving that he was there. I phoned the manager to explain that he didn’t show up when my shift was done, and she didn’t answer. Her daughter did. Apparently, she doesn’t have a home phone. She just has a cell phone and she lent it to her daughter for the day. So I phoned the guy to tell him to get his ass over, and he didn’t answer. So I phoned the owners who have never had to work a shift before, and they came in. So, now the guy is fired and they’re mad at the manager again. Apparently, they’re back to thinking she will be fired.

Oh, and me and the new girl put in our two week notice. Good times.

Yesterday was an incredibly slow night. I think I can probably count the number of customers I had on both hands. To make matters worse (depending on your perspective) it was Sunday, and beer trucks come on Mondays. This meant the back room was almost completely empty, and I didn’t even have anything to put away. Instead, I went rummaging around beneath the counter, in search of something to do. Dog treats, lollipops, paper clips, post-it notes, and at last the “jackpot”.

I found the log book that the people who worked there previous to the current staff kept. It started at the beginning of 2006 and went straight through to February of 2008, when the new staff started. I unfolded a chair in the back room, turned on some music, and started at the beginning.

Immediately I noticed a sort of bond between the girls that is missing with the current staff. Notes ended with “don’t worry about it”, “love ya!”, and even a few “you rock, girl!”’s thrown into the mix. This was both a good and bad thing. It meant they had a lighter workload, generally got along with each other, and that I had something entertaining to read. Unfortunately it also meant that they cared about the job and their staff, and things got heated on occasion. Again, it gave me something fun to read.

Somewhere in the middle of the book, a new girl started. Everyone was told to be nice to her, and show her the ropes. On her first note, she was just pointing out that she didn’t know why her till had been short. On the next note, she didn’t know why her till had been a little bit over. On her next note– There was no next note. No mention of her quitting or being fired. She was just done. Her run had lasted a week, and it was left to the imagination what caused this abrupt stop. Now, I’m sure it was actually discussed at the time, just not on paper. So I chose to think of it like a disappearance. I don’t recognize her name, and I like to think that is because she hasn’t been heard from since and not because I don’t know anyone in town.

After that, the book continued on normally for a while. Owner’s passed down some drama, girls had drama of their own, stocking was done, inventory was done, a year or so passed. Then I realized the book was coming to an end. I started skimming over the useless “We are low on Budweiser” notes and reading strictly the juicy stuff. I shed a single tear thinking the odd mystery of what the hell happened might be solved. Then it came.

Feb. 13 2008: “We are low on Budweiser”

That was it. Apparently, this was their fate. They ran low on Budweiser one too many times and the ax was dropped. At least, that is the only LOGICAL assumption since there was no post afterwards to explain that they all had to give their notice, or that if one went down they would all go down together, or that it would be OKAY, and they would get more Budweiser. It just ended. So did my shift.

I think my drafts folder is about to go into overload, because I just can’t find the time to write a whole post lately. School is winding down, and that means school assignments are winding up. I’m down to just weekends at the liquor store, but the drama and hell of it is tenfold what it was even two weeks ago. I’ll save what has been going on for a longer post at a later date, but for now I thought I would just occasionally pop in with some fun, short, stories of what has been happening lately in my life and more specifically at work.

The first is for all of the comic fans reading (99% of you). When I started working at the liquor store there was a poster hanging up that advertised a Comedian/Hypnotist coming to the bar next door on May 30th (keep in mind, I started months ago). A few weeks after that, the big sign out front was changed to advertise it. Well, this past weekend the show finally came. I tore the poster down with glee, realizing that I had gotten so used to saying “Why do they have this up already?” that I had probably said it even last week.

The hypnotist started, and so did the drinking. Obnoxious small town yokels were having a better time listening to each other than what the hypnotist had in store. At first, I couldn’t actually blame them. His start was shaky, and the entire night just seemed to be going hilariously wrong. Things weren’t busy, so I turned off the CD player and stood listening in the back room. After a half an hour or so, things settled down. The hypnotist had gotten everyone’s attention, and he seemed to be doing better himself. The only problem was one rowdy table. All of them came in a group, and they just couldn’t stop talking. He made a joke of it, trying to get them to be quiet.

“DOUGLAS CLOSE!” someone shouted. Apparently, this is where he lived.
“What? Douglas Close? Oh you all live there?”
“52!” they replied.
“What is 52?”

The group laughed, but didn’t answer. Not to worry, I had it under control.

“Check Rip Hunter’s chalkboard!” I shouted through the thin curtain of drywall and beer.

Whether they heard me or not remains unknown, but things went quiet in the bar for a moment or to, and I like to think thats because I confused the hell out of everyone but myself. I was far too amused, however, to listen much longer. Instead I went back to stocking the beer, giggling every few minutes to myself. “Rip Hunter’s chalkboard. Fuck I’m witty.”