Precedings to the endings.

So, to anyone who stumbles across this blog wondering what this particular piece is about, I'll cut to the chase so you don't have to worry about your little mind running in circles. Two days ago I lost my job. The official answer would be because I refused to shave. My mane was more man than the tame dames who ran the place.

But, that isn't the only point as to why I am again jobless. It always tickles my funny bone, right before hitting it unpleasantly like a half-opened door in the mornings before you could be bothered to open your eyes properly. So it really is not funny at all, just shockingly painful and oddly expected despite the surprise. Oh, and congratulations if you made it this far in, you have more than average intelligence or your life is as sad as mine. Either way, celebrate, because now the summations have been summed up.
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This story actually starts a little more than two weeks ago, at work (where all of this event happens) I remember being asked very bluntly what I thought of my manager. Well, you see, being graveyard shift means that I have two managers. One who directs the nights, and the one during the day who directs her to direct the rest of us that don't prefer the sun. Simple. I answered the man just as bluntly as he had asked; my night manager was relaxed and always managed to get the essentials done, plus more, while OUR manager seemed to be a hard worker but on occasion mildly disorganized. That was it, no more, and probably a little less if I'm allowed to be biased (goddamn right I am).

Now, take from that and ignore time for one week and two days (I hope you remembered to bathe between). OUR manager (hereto known as C.) C was actually, livingly, in the fleshingly, at the store after 10 o'clock. The surprise and shock took all three of us off guard. She did sometimes pop in, but C. had a habit of not staying long, usually there to just give orders to someone unfortunate enough to be 'helping.' Forced by altruism to stay behind because their job depended on it. Our shock and awe at her own 'altruism' was well received. She was pleased with us running about like ants under her feet, looking impressive without appearing to try to. We soon found out that she wasn't there to help so much as find more for us to do. You see, this is why we're compared to ants. We run in circles, helping the hive, but the queen only wants her jelly and see us run faster.

After the orders were issued and new tasks written for posterity...I got a special call into her office. The joke here is that it was in fact NOT her office, but her officer's office.

Well of course there was a problem I had caused and I could repair. It seems the person who had asked me about my managers back when had gone straight to them and conjured up a story that I had berated, belittled, and was beside myself with annoyance at them both. Of course I sure as hell was now.

I told my manager simply this; berate is a strong word, and I remembered what I said, it more or less fell under the lines of musing. C quickly dismissed the choice of words as unimportant followed those choice dismissals with a sheet of paper with particular goatee styles on them. Suddenly (after over 4 months) my beard was a problem that needed to be nipped back down to a bud. That was that.

Scoot your ass forward, because this is where things get even more coincidental.

 Now then, four days ago someone suddenly appeared, fresh as a pastry saran wrapped and freeze dried. Take what you want from that. She was to replace my current night leader and be (in an almost, so very close to literal sense) the new queen bee. Not a problem, right? At this point I was thinking of tendering my resignation anyways. Oh, the problems, they did begin again.

Water was spilled! Cakes were knocked onto the floor! Coffee flowed freely onto the carpet and shoes of unsuspecting patrons! It was as if that thing that makes your ears ring had been born human to more totally be awkward and irritating. Three days I worked with that. She cleaned up, oh yes, the shelves, and back splashes never looked so tidy. But of course when the patrons and "regular chores" were held and up not being touched upon it was in-fact my fault for not keeping up.

This was all brought to a head by the fact I rifled through her purses one day to find six seperate pill bottles when she was more energetic than necessary after a 'tinkle' and shutting down HER till an hour early.

Bitterness did not begin to describe the violence brewing in my mind.

I tendered my two week notice.

Yesterday, I received a text (poorly written and badly spelled, by our ant queen) saying that the notice had been received with good faith. Yet, since I hadn't managed to cut my beard, C decided that it was best I left sooner than in a fortnight. As in that night I would no longer be needed.

So here I sit today, smelling of mead and spiced clove smoke. Once again jobless, once again wondering if I told this story to anyone I know in person, would ANY of them not ask me afterwards; "so why didn't you just cut your beard?"


Quack :V

Facing the shelves.

Just an update on things. More of a; in case someone gets curious as to where I went on the social networks. Well, I went off. To be exact I left. There could be quite a few reasons why, but it mostly boils down to whether it was Facebook, or Tumblr, or just about any other place, each time I tried to contact someone or strike up conversation I was ignored. Brushed off. Two word replies with a smile emote and then nothing.

There's enough stress in paying rent to live at home, working as a minimum wage cashier for hicks and all ignorant human races, being compared to the running family joke, and never looked at or talked to except as anything but a stranger in the house.

So, if anyone's come looking for me to see where I went. Call it a vacation. Or call the phone if you really want to know. Though I doubt anyone has that sorted amount of care.