Insightful Reminder from Ass-Face Boss

Holly cow it's a tough job market these days! I moved back to Victoria in January and took the first job offered - and though it does pay the rent, I would rather be working elsewhere.

Have been sending out resumes for months, and only had a few nibbles - one for which I was not really qualified, and another which I landed.

Started my new job last week, part time, and was so incredibly excited. It was in a little hot spot downtown Victoria. The food is excellent, the staff is a wonderful mix of creative, happy individuals - my first shift was so fun and I was thrilled to have been hired. Sooooo excited!

Until my second shift...

But let's back up a little first for full impact.

I have been searching for months to improve my job situation to the point that I was beginning to wonder if my phone or email work at all, due to the lack of response to my resumes. Let's face it, I have a ton of experience. I was feeling as though I had become invisible.

But alas, I dropped off a resume downtown Victoria a couple of weeks ago, and the bartender who took my resume and promised to pass it along the the guy who does the hiring chatted with me for a bit.

He was such a nice guy. He wrote "Great" at the top of my resume and I literally wanted to lean over the bar and give him a big hug and kiss for doing that - I was certain that his input on my resume would result in an interview - which in fact it did.

I got a call for an interview two days later and at that point thought of sending a little something - a flower, chocolate bar, little gift certificate, some home mad cookies, any little thing, to the guy who had written "Great" on my resume. I had been searching for a new job for so long and was so grateful for this small act of kindness - really grateful (in fact I do believe I fought off a tear or two).

The interview did result in a job - or at least, a "let's try you out and see how you do..."

The first shift - ubber-fantastic! I just loved it and felt that it was a super skookum fit all the way around. Prior to the end of my first shift, my wonderful new co-workers asked when I would be working again, and I replied, that I would be working again the next morning.

Ooooh, they said, you'll be working with "Tom". He's the owner and he is a piece of work. Here is how you should respond to him if he asks you a question: "Yes", "No", or, "I don't know". He rides everyone hard in the beginning, they warned, but if I toughed it out he would eventually lay off and all would be well...

I went home and didn't worry about their warning too much. In my day I have put up with many a class A ass-wipe boss. This would be nothing new.

I arrived at work the following morning and learned how to set things up for the day. Again I was warned about "the boss". I shrugged off the warning and carried on. Another staff member arrived. She was new too having been there only two weeks. She was noticeably shaken when asked how things were going with "Tom".

Around 11:30, "Tom" showed up. My co-worker said to me, Morgana, this is Tom. He is the owner of the cafe.

I turned to greet "Tom", and stopped short.

No, I thought, this cannot be "Tom" the Nasty. This cannot be "Tom" the Terrible. This cannot be "Tom" that has all the staff rattled and wound up like little springs ready to sprooong...

This is the kindly bartender who wrote "Great" at the top of my resume. It is this very person's act of kindness that resulted in my interview... This is the person that I wanted to send a flower to, or a gift card, or a cookie to show my gratitude... This can not be "Tom".

But alas, it was true - "Tom" and the kindly bartender were one and the same...

And I thought to myself, the staff must be mad... How could the confuse this kindly person with "Tom" the terrible? How could this be so? And yet I could not ignore that the tension in the room had increased ten fold...

However, I carried on learning the ropes at my new job - and then, it happened. I stood witness as Tom berated and absolutely humiliated the other new girl in front of the rest of us. Then he started in on me.

I was to be hosting that shift, and as instructed the night before by the general manager, I was making a short list of the reservations for the day that I could carry in my pocket. Don't do that, Tom commanded, don't write anything down. I'll tell you what to do and when to do it.

I crumpled my note and scrunched it into my pocket.

The day moved on. The cafe started getting busy with hungry lunch-seekers. I carried on my duties hosting and seating. The patio filled and I began seating people inside. Suddenly Tom commanded that I start taking orders in the front section. I was taken aback a little - I had barely cracked a menu. Didn't know what went with what. Didn't even know what kind of salad dressings were available.

None the less, Tom insisted, actually bellowed, that I: Get Out There and Take All the Orders! Which I did. People asked for salads with their burgers. Well, I'd say, I know we have some kind of lemon dressing - would that work for you?

Everyone decided to have lemon dressing on their salad. Sometimes complete strangers can be so very kind...

I now had the orders for three tables. I went to ring them in, but had never worked on their system, so didn't know how to open a table. I looked from the order screen to Tom and told him I don't know how to start a table on this system. He rolled his eyes at me and told me to pick a number. Then he told me to key in the table number. I scanned the screen for the right buttons, but it did take a sec due to the fact that I had never seen the screen before.

What are you waiting for?! Tom bellowed. Not familiar with your screen, I retorted. He looked as me and said - I can't believe you don't know how to do this.

I wanted to enlighten him with the fact that it is the beginning of my second shift, but I remembered my co-workers warning: "Yes", "No", "I don't know".

I was feeling a little prickly by this point, but stifled the urge to stick my pen in Tom's eye, and was reminded by my urge to inflict pain on him that it's moments like these that reinforce the argument that forbids servers to carry guns. I smiled at Tom and said, I don't know, Tom.

The shift carried on. The other servers were stressed as Tom's spiny tongue sniped out rude comments about their abilities and actions. The other new girl looked like she was about to cry. Her lips were taunt, her hands shook noticeably. I felt so sad for her. She was likely a student and really needed this job and she was sucking up Tom's abusive treatment as best she could.

I busied myself on the patio where Tom couldn't see me, all the while thinking, geeze, this seemed like it was going to be such a great gig. You can wear your own clothes, even sandals - which are such a treat for the feet, the staff is super, the food, excellent... and then there's Tom.

Tom's behavior towards everyone grew more belligerent each moment, and I thought to myself - yeah, I could learn to put up with this ass-face idiot... but I don't have to, and why would I want to..?

My shift was over. I grabbed my stuff and walked out the door in a bit of a fog. I walked up the street, then back down. My thoughts were tumbling rapidly through my mind. On so many levels this could have been such a great gig - with one exception... and it was a big exception :o(

In the past I have had bosses who were difficult and made the work environment intolerable. There were some who sent me home in tears every night - and I had to keep those jobs. I was raising a kid alone and needed the money. At that time, I didn't feel that I had any choice.

But my kid is all raised up now - I don't have to put up with this man. The benefits of the job are too heavily weighted by the emotional cost. Sure, I could suck it up and let it roll off, but eventually... eventually I would become reactive. I do know this. I can be tough, but I am human, and if my income depends upon this job, I could be in quite a little bit of a pickle.

As I was wandering the street I bumped into my daughter. Literally. I bumped into someone, look up and saw the shining smile of my magnificent daughter. Ahhhh. I took my first real breath of air in hours.

Wide-eye, I reported to my daughter that mommy needs a drink. We crossed the street to a little pub. The server informed us that tequila was on special. I ordered two shooters. I don't actually drink tequila, nor do I do shooters, but at that moment it seemed like a really good idea.

The tequila shots arrived with slices of lime. I was uncertain of the order of operations for the tequila ritual, but I did know that at some point I'd have to suck on the lime and sprinkle salt on my hand, lick it.

I bit down on the lime and enjoyed the sour taste. My daughter inquired if maybe I should do this after the shot of tequila. I don't know, I told her. But I do know that I don't like tequila, so the lime feels like a good place to start.

I bit down on the lime again, poured salt on my hand, licked it off and shot back the tequila, and bit down on the lime again. Who really cares what the order should be - it seems to work for me. In seconds I felt the warm wash of the tequila melt the tension I had been stumbling around in all day.

I took another nice deep, cleansing breath and let it go. Whew, I was beginning to feel better, but holy doodle, I knew that I better not have another tequila.

I ordered a nice cool vodka tonie, drank it down and ordered another. Ahhhh - all was well. I felt completely calm, and acknowledged that that was enough of that.

I told my daughter the story of my new job, and concluded that though I would really like to work there, the emotional price tag was just too high. Unlike the past, I have choices now, and I choose not to put up with Tom. Life is too precious and I don't need to have negative experiences.

I quit that nasty job next day.

Now don't think that my experience with old "Tom" was all bad. It wasn't. Having been in and out of this industry for more than thirty years I know a thing or two about a thing or two.

I love this industry, always enjoy myself at work, make killer cash - in fact I have put myself through college and university, and raised a child waiting tables. Believe me, this was not my first encounter with a Tom. Tom is everywhere.

I wait tables because I like it. I call my job my paid social life. It's great fun. But as a former Behavioral Interventionist I also know a thing or two about what makes Tom and his kind tick. The Toms of the world are deeply troubled and rather than going through the pain of dealing with their crap, the opt instead to make others miserable, taking great pleasure in making, and watching, others squirm and suffer.

They are very immature in their psychological makeup - and they really have no idea how to cope or communicate effectively. And what I do know about them is that I can't change them. They are on their own trip, and if change is to occur it will come from somewhere deep inside themselves when they decide to heal.

Basically, their trip has nothing what so ever to do with me. It's not anything that I can change or influence - and further, it's not my job to do so. I can either be present or I can get the hell out of the way.

I have choices in life. We all do. We may not see them and it may seem that we don't have any - but we do.

If I had stayed at that job, I would have, on some level, been telling myself that I deserved to be treated poorly, and that I didn't have any choices - neither of which is true.

However, by knowing that I deserve to be treated well, and taking myself out of the way of Tom's wrath, I empower myself and make way for other doors and opportunities to slide my way.

I almost want to thank Tom for that insightful reminder - but he doesn't really deserve it, so I won't.

I'm sure glad I didn't bake him any cookies though ;o)