Last week was the AssMan's last week at The Store.
My long time readers will know the AssMan was the assistant manager and, all too often, a giant pain in my you-know-where. She's gone off to work somewhere else, somewhere (one hopes) less demanding because she truly was ill-equipped to deal with The Store's particular management requirements. But maybe she shouldn't feel so badly. A lot of people would be. The Store's quite ridiculous that way.
So it is with mixed emotions that I said goodbye to the AssMan, torn because she really was a miserable person with which to work but she was always good for a "you'll never believe what happened at The Store now" post.
Here now, in a tribute to the AssMan, are some of the highlights from those posts:
—the time she wanted me fired because I wasn't on the schedule frequently enough. I couldn't decide when the right moment was to remind her I wasn't the one who made the schedule.
—the time she then pretended she didn't want me fired because she didn't think I'd hear about it.
—the time The Man came to pick me up from work and The AssMan and I had this conversation:
Her: (coming into the stockroom where I am feverishly working to finish up) You'd better get out there. Your husband is talking to another woman.
Me: First of all, I'm not married. Second of all, so?
Her: He's talking to another woman. You have to get out there.
Me: Why do I care if he's talking to another woman?
Her: What? You mean you want someone else to have to deal with him?
Me: No, I mean we have one of those healthy relationships where I don't care if he talks to other people.
—The time she complained really loudly about our Canadian customers. Within earshot of all our Canadian customers. (Thanks for coming in. And now it's once again safe to return.)
—The time she complained really loudly about every other customer. Within earshot of every other customer. Seriously.
—This conversation:
Her: I need sleep pants.
Me: (pointing) I have a box of them over there.
The AssMan then proceeds to dig through the boxes right next to me, not the box I indicated. This brings my productivity to a screeching halt.
Me: What are you doing?
Her: Looking for men's sleep pants.
Me: In a box labeled 'women's outerwear'?
Her: Well, what box are they in?
Me: Personally, I'd try the one labeled 'men's sleep pants' if I were you.
Her: (laughing) Oh. Am I annoying you today?
Me: It's adorable how you think it's just today.
—The time she wanted to write me up because I had a bad attitude because I didn't go on my lunch break when she told me to because I was in the middle of helping a group of (Canadian) customers. (She never did write me up. Must've been my 'go ahead, make my day' expression when she told me)
—The time she gave me a hard time for putting the overflow of women's jeans on a shelf located directly across from the rest of the women's jeans. I apologized for having put them in plain sight and promise to hide them better the next time.
—The time she called and begged to me come in on my day off and then when I got there, looked at me and said, "What are you doing here?"
—And last but not least, these haiku:
I do remember
how a hanger works, but thanks
for the refresher.
Yes, that last haiku
was chock full of sarcasm.
So glad you noticed.
Good bye, AssMan. We hardly knew ye. Well, that's not true. You did tell us waaaaaaaay too many personal things about yourself. They're called 'personal boundaries', AssMan. You should check into them.
I work with her replacement for the first time today. He's a guy whose name I don't remember. I'm pretty sure it starts with a P so I'll just call him that. I'm curious to find out what P will be like. I'm sure we'll get along just fine. Just as long as he doesn't try to tell me what to do.
Here's hoping they covered that in orientation...