Tuesday, March 17, 2009

War of Words

I can't say I've never had trouble with authority before in my life, but never ever to the extent I was having an issue with it a week ago. This is the first time ever that I've gone to upper management about a manager of mine. For anyone who is thinking 'Oh noes, you were reaching too high, Sugar' I was right there with you. Desperate times call for desperate measures though. With whom was I contending you may wonder. His name is Jesse. Before December ended my old belt manager Lance ( not to be confused with boyfriend Lance) decided it was time to throw in the towel at our good ol FedEx. He'd been there for about 5 years I think. Maybe more, I forget. Any who. To fill his position as our belt manager Jesse was taken from our outbound load and put on preload with us on our belt. All was well in FedEx land.... at first... After Lance's last day I think it's safe to say the crap hit the fan, BIG TIME. We were still in the middle of peak, which was weak for this year, but still enough of a peak to make us work harder than usual. Had our unload NOT been on crack I think this whole thing could have been put off for at least three or four more months. Oh well though, so be it. I think, if I may be so bold as to imply this, that our difference of opinion, mine and Jesse's, began when my splitter at the front of the belt got frustrated one day and decided to throw boxes. He hit one of the home girls a few times before they both cleared out and left him to his own devices up there. Now, me being the person I am, I believe everyone has a given amount of respect they are entitled to by just being them. Anything more is earned. That means that no matter how angry or upset I get I will never yell at a co-worker or belittle them or anything of that sort. The fact that the splitter knowingly threw those boxes at those girls and intentionally hit the one really got my hacks up. When I approached Jesse about it I merely said "you need to do something about Mike, he's throwing boxes at people and we can't get our jobs done" which I think he interpreted as something more like "you dork face! go crack your Overlord's whip at that boy and make him do what we say! Gosh I hate you!". He completely ignored the situation so instead I went to the front of the belt, helped clean the place up and when all was well in the world I let Mike know in no uncertain terms that he was to go apologize to Danielle and promise her that it would never happen again and he was to be sincere about it. I think that was the thing that really got Jesse, because Mike did go apologize and it was sincere and he's become great friends with both Danielle and I since then and that upsets Jesse. Things went downhill fast from there. I'd basically painted a big huge target on my back at that point. I didn't care though, as long as he was keeping it at work and nothing else. Little did I know how low the man would go, however. My final straw, the one that broke the camels back so to speak, was when I made it into work 15 min late a few Saturday's ago. I was not the only one late, I was just the one with the target. I had finals that Saturday, not something I could be late to, and two people from class who needed a ride to get to school for finals. I had talked to my loverly belt manager about this three days prior to the event and was assured that I would get out on time so I could shower, go pick the guys up and get to school on time. About a half hour after I arrived at work, however, I was approached by Jesse, whom, by the way, we lovingly refer to as Princess. I was told that the terminal was behind because of me, it was my fault. It was my fault the belt was a mess, it was my fault the unload had to go slower, it was my fault apparently that everyone else who was late was late. Up to this point I had no idea I had such an impact on our little terminal. Goodness me, if only I'd KNOWN! Needless to say I was a bit upset about this because then I was told that I would be staying till the entire terminal was cleaned up and the trucks loaded appropriately. That would have kept me there till almost 10am. Class started at 9:30am. I kidd you not, I have not been that angry in a very looooong time. I'm talking so angry that I was shaking. I wanted to go Rambo-chick on this kid that's how angry I was. Criticize my work, cut my hours, do whatever you want but DO NOT interfere with my school. I repeat, DO NOT interfere with my school. Any way, long story short, another manager made sure I got out on time, I talked to the building manager who had very looooong words with both the sort manager and my belt manager and I'm not the one on watch, he is.

Go me Go!

My new quarter goes well, by the way. Having fun. Groovy Comp I teacher, reminds me of my seventh grade English teacher, Mr. Moffatt (Naomi, you can appreciate that).

Gotta jet!

4 comments:

Hetzlers said...

you go girl

Sariah said...

Yay Maranda! You're my hero! And I can appreciate the Mr. Moffat thing. I had him too. He was awesome. lol.l Anywho, I love you!

Ponczoch Family said...

Oh, man! Glad you were able to make it to your finals!

Brown Family said...

Way to make it to your final!! Crazy stuff!