Coworker Hell: A Retail Hell Underground Digital Short
By Freeman Hall
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About this ebook
On the battlefields of retail hell, sometimes your “allies” turn out to be your worst enemies . . .
When managers can’t run their stores and when coworkers refuse to actually work, shifts in retail go from bad to hellish and fast. There’s no one to turn to when the customers get mean, and there’s no one in to play defense when patrons complain.
In these 28 hilarious-but-true stories, RetailHellUnderground.com bloggers pick their bones with the worst coworkers in memory - from lunch-stealing liars to power-hungry managers to snide corporate reps and more! It’s time these retail slaves - and even the customers - gave them what they really deserve!
Freeman Hall
Author of the acclaimed memoir Retail Hell, Freeman Hall spends his days running popular blogs and dogwalking his neighbor's adorable canines. He is also the author of Little Monster Hell, Discount Hell, and Return to the Big Fancy.
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Coworker Hell - Freeman Hall
Coworker Hell
A Retail Hell Underground Digital Short
Edited by Freeman Hall
Avon, Massachusetts
Contents
Greetings Curious Reader
Mega Mouth Marci
The Tale of Whiner and McBitchy
Letter to a Lunch-Stealing Coworker
You Don’t Deserve a Break Today
The Customer Manager
Slow as Shit
The Tale of Screw Loose
The Devil Wears Walmart
The Tale of Mismanager
The Smell of Hell
A Desperate Dumbass
Friday Night Taco Hell
Newbie Lockout
A Coworker Party to Remember
Getting Screwed Regionally
Manager Stripping
Conniving Bitches at The Magic Kingdom
The Tale of Too Manly
Return of the Monumental Fuck-Knuckles
The Demise of Smoker Newbie
Getting Even with Diarrhea
Bite Worse Than the Bark
Playing the Gay Card
Love Is in the Retail Air
The Last Straw at Mess for Less
Idiot Scheduling
When Coworker Hell Freezes Over
Copyright Page
Greetings Curious Reader,
My name is Freddy, cryptkeeper of the Retail Hell Underground Blog. In 2007, I and many of my friends were fed up with our retail jobs — the way we were being treated by our companies, customers, and coworkers. There was no place to go for support or help, or to blow off steam and laugh about the place we call hell. So, I took to the dark recesses of the Internet in a skull mask and wig and created Retail Hell Underground — a place for anyone in the service industry who needs to rant, laugh, support, or seek advice about their jobs. RHU is not just for those in retail but anyone who has to deal with customers or coworkers. Because the antihuman corporations we slave away for would fire us if they knew our identities, we hide our names and faces on The Underground. Bloggers of RHU have taken on screen personalities to tell their stories and rant about what pisses them off or makes them go WTFLOL. Many of the stories you are about to read come from RHU’s Monster Bloggers — those who share their experiences, photos, and voices regularly — and you can find them lurking on The Underground on any given day. The tales you are about to read are all based on true incidents. Names and places have been changed to protect the innocent and keep the guilty from suing. Any resemblances to real people or real companies are purely coincidental — so don’t whip out your lawyer panties, corporate America!
Enjoy your stay on The Underground, Curious Reader. Remember to keep your arms and legs inside at all times and wear your safety belt! This wild ride through service hell will definitely turn you upside down!
And remember … laughing about your hell is the best way to cure it.
xo
Freddy
Mega Mouth Marci
The unfortunate truth is we don’t get to choose our coworkers. Through fate and circumstance they are chosen for us. And we have all had to slave away beside coworkers who have made us want to rip off our ears and drink battery acid. Throughout my years in Retail Hell, I worked with many different kinds of people. In my early days at The Big Fancy handbag department, one of my coworkers from hell was Marci.
That annoying bitch drove me out of my mind.
A transfer from The Big Fancy store in Corona, Marci was a petite, drab woman in her thirties with dark features and a face so unpleasant she looked like an evil character from a Lemony Snickett book.
But Marci’s looks weren’t the most unsettling thing about her.
It was her diarrheic mouth.
Marci didn’t stop talking.
I nicknamed her Mega Mouth.
She probably talked in her sleep, alone in the car, and in the shower; she talks, and talks, and talks.
Mega Mouth Marci gave a blow-by-blow of her movements and actions.
I’ll just staple this and fold it nicely. Then I’ll put it in the folder. It’s always good to remember where you put important numbers. Ooh, look the scotch tape is almost empty. I’ll just go over to the supply drawer here and get some scotch tape. Oh, looks like it’s our last one. I better start a supply list. I wonder if we need staples. We use a lot of staples. I prefer paper clips. Staples are so permanent.
Mega Mouth Marci also had a better suggestion for everything.
At my old store, we used to have someone in charge of ordering supplies. It’s better that way. Supplies were ordered every two days. We never ran out of staples.
Mega Mouth Marci had to comment on everything, no matter how unimportant.
I don’t like the look of the new credit applications. They should have never used silver and blue. You know what would have been good? Gold and burgundy. What a rich combo! Perfect for The Big Fancy.
Mega Mouth Marci tended to negate things people told her.
A customer told me it stopped raining outside, but I don’t believe her because the weatherman said it was going to rain all day.
Mega Mouth Marci had a solution or tip for everything.
Do you know a headache can be cured by eating twenty tart cherries?
Do you know chewing on gum while cutting onions can keep you from crying?
Do you know heavier lemons produce more juice and they’re tastier?
Much of Marci’s incessantly annoying chatter revolved around food.
She loved anything having to do with food or cooking.
And she thought everyone else did as well.
I saw on the Food Network last night the best recipe for Beef Stew. You start out by marinating the beef in red wine, garlic, and bay leaves. And then you …
Thank you, Rachael Ray. Will you shut the fuck up before I marinate your ass in Spiced Honey Barbeque sauce in less than thirty minutes?
I heard the details on so many recipes I could have written a book.
Cooking with Mega Mouth: Her Recipes Are Better Than Anyone’s!
One of Marci’s other Mega Mouth food-related annoyances involved lunch. She always wanted to know what any of us were having for lunch, and asked how it was when we returned.
This happened almost every day she worked.
Where are you going to lunch today?
Marci would say.
I think I’ll go to Carl’s.
You know what? I heard they got a B rating from the Health Department. You better be careful. Don’t eat the chicken whatever you do. You never know with a rating like that.
And then when I’d come back from lunch she would immediately pick up where we left off.
How was Carl’s? I hope you didn’t get sick. I have some Rolaids if you need them. You know they got a B rating from the Health Department. Fuddruckers has better burgers because you can build your own. I like to add avocado and lots of onions to mine. Of course, I don’t do that when I’m working because I don’t want to smell like onions all day. You didn’t eat onions did you?
Didn’t matter where any of us went to lunch, Mega Mouth Marci had to add her comments.
I went there yesterday, the service was horrible.
I can’t believe you ate there. The food is so processed.
That place is so expensive! How can you afford it?
Jamba Juice? What kind of lunch is that? The problem with Jamba Juice is its not very filling. You’ll be tired and hungry in an hour. Not to mention running to the bathroom a lot. The Women’s Lounge is upstairs. I’d never make it. They really need a Women’s Lounge on this floor.
My coworker Cammie completely dismissed Marci and summed her up in two words: Fucking Freakshow.
Cammie is so rude to me,
Marci yapped to me once, I don’t know what her problem is. I’ve never done anything to her. I wish there was something I could do to get closer.
Have your voice box removed. That might help.
• • •
One night when we had to close together I was particularly on edge, feeling like I was just seconds away from attacking her with a Marc Jacobs (because his handbags have nice heavy hardware that would break teeth and leave marks). Marci was chattering like a strung-out Chihuahua.
This is going to be so great,
she yapped excitedly, "It’s just you and me for the next