Welcome to Hell

So I've been working at Wal-mart aka. Wally World for a while... for a very long while. This is the s***** job I need to put up with in order to help pay my bills for now.

Fact: I dislike my job more than Miss California Carrie Prejean dislikes a civil union between two gay individuals.

Fact: I work harder than the American and French people who helped built the Statue of Liberty.

Fact: I don't get any credit for busting my ass at work... not even a measly pat on the back.

This is my schedule during weekends: Friday: 2pm-11pm, Saturday 11am-8pm and Sunday 7am-4pm. The Wally World gods suck the fun out of my weekends... go figure!

Fact: Four out of five days I get delivery trucks at work. I get between 10-12 pallets full of merchandise. It's my responsibility to fit all of this merchandise into a freezer/cooler that make my house look like Foot Locker.

True Story: This past weekend I busted my ass all weekend. Sunday afternoon I received yet another truck at about 1:45pm. Having just finished having lunch I wasn't too excited about it... but I sucked it up anyways. My boy (who shall remain nameless) was suppose to start working at 2pm. I fit most of the pallets in by myself, except for a few where I did get some help. My boy comes strolling into work at 2:45pm... that right there is f***** up! I needed my dude's help and he comes into work as if the world is fine and everything is just dandy.

[My boy left early that Friday at 5pm, he has Saturdays off and he still shows up late to work on the one Sunday I needed his help.]

After I tell him how f***** up that was... he has the nerve to tell me, "Yo it was 1:30pm and I was still laying in my bed. I didn't feel like coming in today." Like yo my dude are you f****** serious? I hadn't seen anything this messed up since Michael Jackson held his baby over a balcony with his puny arms. Then when I suggested that he's lazy he tells me he isn't.

Lazy: disinclined to activity or exertion : not energetic or vigorous.

If that isn't lazy then Idk what the f*** else to do. [End of story]

True Story: This past Monday I had a bunch of stuff to do... as usual. As soon as I clock in at 7am I start working on refilling all of the milk doors. While I was working my supervisor Carlitos needed me to do something... so I'm like sure I got it. At the same time a manager approaches me and tells me that a cashier from up front is going to help me take care of the milk while I do the task that Carlitos asked me to do. Ok cool, I pull out an entire cart of milk to the floor so that the other associate could work on it....

When I get to the milk aisle I see a lady who works up front standing by the milk. I didn't think much of it until she tells me, "Hi I'm here to help you with the milk." I look at her with a Napoleon Dynamite look (dumbfounded) on my face. Not to be disrespectful or anything I tell the lady, "Miss I don't think that they should have you doing this... the crates themselves would be too heavy for you to even hold."

There was no need to get angry at the lady because I knew that it wasn't her fault. Sending her to come and help me with the milk is like sending a paraplegic to run up the stair cases of the Empire State building. It just doesn't make any sense. I told the lady that it wasn't fair for her to help me that it's fine for her to go back to the registers... and I proceeded to do everything all by my lonesome.

Wally World and their staff of baby geniuses never cease to amaze me. [End of story]

[Photo courtesy of willpen.wordpress.com]