The Holiday Workforce

I currently work in a place that sells various baked goods along with Starbucks beverages.  The store I work for is located in Greenvale – a very wealthy area on Long Island?  How wealthy you ask?  Let’s put it this way – there’s an Equinox gym located in the shopping center and the parking lot is so loaded that I almost wish someone would crash into my Camry so I can get a new bumper.

I’m a bit of a workaholic – I always try to squeeze in 40 hours so much so that I am willing to wait until the time actually says 10:00pm so I can leave and get paid for the full hour.  This isn’t because I wake up in the morning jazzed to have some rich Stepford wife yell at me because I maliciously gave her 2% instead of nonfat – it’s because I kind of like not being broke.  Granted I’m not rolling in swag on the salary my job pays – but I’m not living off Ramen noodles either.

Since I am a workaholic and in need of cash, I always bite the bullet and volunteer to work the holidays.  This is mainly due to the fact that the store closes early enough that I can still spend some time with my family and I get time and a half.  My graciousness is not unconditional though…

I firmly believe that if you work on a holiday (and by holiday I mean a real holiday – Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s…let’s get real, people.  Martin Luther King was a solid dude – but ain’t no one losin’ anything working that January Monday) you reserve the right to bitch slap (or, depending on the degree of rudeness, pimp slap) any person who gives you shit.

Seriously…I mean it.  Firstly, there is no reason to be rude to anyone who is providing you with service in general.  But to be rude to that person on a holiday, I’ve got two words:  FUCK YOU.

Times are tough and jobs are scarce – there are companies that will fire your ass if you don’t pull a 14 hour shift on Thanksgiving Day.  There are mothers and fathers who don’t get to see the looks on their kids’ faces when they open what Santa brought because if they weren’t crunching numbers then there wouldn’t be any presents.  Cut them a fucking break because the last shit they need is your snarky ass snapping at them over a god damn coupon.

My store was open from 8am to 4pm today – which I think is more than generous.  I can’t tell you how many stuck up housewives called today:

Rich Bitch:  How late are you guys open till?
Me:  We’re open until 4pm today ma’am.
Rich Bitch:  Only 4pm?! Oh that’s ludacris.  You people should be ashamed of yourselves taking advantage of people’s time on such an important day.

Really, lady?  You really want to go there right now?  You should be thanking the sweet baby Jesus that we are even open!  For real, my one task in life isn’t to make your life easier or make up for your culinary short comings because they didn’t teach it at the Trophy Wife Academy.

Obviously, it being Thanksgiving and all, we went out of our way to have various pies, bakery sample packs and other items available for purchase that would suit large numbers of people.  As you can imagine, being one of the only sellers of baked goods open in the area – that shit went fast.  So, it’s not my fault if you suddenly find yourself without dessert because you forgot to tell your housekeeper to hustle her ass to the bakery to get a pie.

People really need to wake up and appreciate how much it takes to work on a holiday.  No one wants to be there – sure the money is nice and the hours are relatively short, but we would all rather be home.  So how about you throw your change of a dollar into the fucking tip jar, asshole!  Or, you know, a “thank you” would be nice.

And to all those people working this Black Friday craziness, my hat is off to you.  Stay strong, take a deep breath and summon the strength to push through that whirlwind of loony bin craziness.  For your struggle is the greatest and the reward is not always there.  Thank you to those who work Black Friday – not just for being there, but because too many forget that those two simple words can make all the difference.

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