Mar 2, 2005

I'd like a pound of job searching, very fine please.

The rumour mill grinds exceedingly fast and exceptionally fine at my current workplace.

I work in a small town. I'm used to the small town pasttime of rumour mongering. I mean honestly, what else is there to do in this town if you're not a teen and/or the mall has lost it's glitter and glitz? You've got it--talk about other people. I'm used to being talked about. I'm used to being thought of as having an affair with the store manager, I'm used to being thought of as sleeping with any or all the female employees, I'm used to being thought of as the favourite, and I could go on, but you've heard them all before. Probably about me. But damn, speed is not always of the essence, people! Anyone ever heard of letting a rumour stew, linger, thicken like a good roux? Give it a rest, it'll rise, then you go and serve it up. Me, I've been known to hold a juicy rumour until it's at the very peak of explosive potential, then let it loose like a starving hawk in a dovecote. Now that's entertainment.

But no, yesterday I made the grave mistake of letting one employee overhear my spoken "I have a job interview today at lunch" confidences to another employee (the only coworker of mine I trust,) and within--I kid you not--5 hours the word was all the way across and around a store with, at the time, 12 employees in it. Busy employees, not just people standing around with their thumbs up their butts. What's worse is that it reached all the way up the chain, too. The store manager called me in for a quick huddle just before I left work, and the first thing he starts is fishing. Granted we've been having a LOT of morale and harrassment problems up there, and he was fishing for my take on the whole thing because he values my opinion and I seem to be the sounding board for most EVERY person in the place, but I could tell by the way he kept staring at me and saying "Sooooo, is there anything ELSE you want to tell me?" and he would waggle his eyebrows and drum his fingers on his desktop and loom. And me, being the cool and collected cucumber I am, would feign ignorance and mention some other smallish plot or deviance I had heard, he'd take some notes, and it'd start over again.

Mgr: *loom* "Sooooo, is there anything ELSE you want to tell me?" *waggle waggle drum waggle*

Irrelephant: "Uhm...well, the men's room toilet is flushing a little slowly..."

Mgr: *loom* "Sooooo, is there anything ELSE you want to tell me?" *waggle waggle drum waggle*

Irr: "Yeah, well, I got the drawer unstuck on that desk we talked about..."

etc ad nauseum

So anyway I finally got tired of the vulture imitation and dumped it. And of course he had heard the whole thing, he just wanted to hear it from me. And I told him the truth--I wasn't GOING to tell him until I knew for sure, at which point I would either put in my two weeks notice or it would sink without a trace, and my job and duties would go on unabated and unchanged until such time as I had another opportunity arise, and I'd repeat the same performance. When it becomes time to tell someone, I'll tell them, not before nor after.

I've been burnt that way before, you see. I thought it genteel, thoughtful and polite to tell an employer that I was dissatisfied and had started looking for another job. It took almost a year of me NOT finding another job and NOT leaving (the market here is VERY slim for sales irrelephants) for them to believe that I wasn't about to jackabbit out of there the first second a line worker's job at McD's came open.

So, I have taken a page from my syster's book and learned that a DEFCON 1 level of privacy and a shut mouth is the surest way to maintaining personal work stability. No gentility, no politeness, no thoughtfulness in offering to train one's replacement in a mature and understanding gesture. Simply shut up, and don't make friends with your employers. Either that or kill them all, and make sure your burial plans for their bits and pieces is foolproof, and that you have a good excuse for having a backhoe and a heap of "Lime-N-Lye" bags in your shed when the Plod comes sniffing around for missing management.

4 comments:

renegade said...

Lovejoy!

Irrelephant said...

Wot's that, luv? Eh?

Cena said...

Nice bookcase. Have you thought of doing something like this (www.tinpot-napoleon.net/shelves Login with guest/guest)?

It's an open source database for books/etc that I'm using for my own stuff (tinpot-napoleon.net will eventually sport a blog, or something, but for now I just use it for playing around with other stuff). Like you, I've got a LOT of books. It'll take me forever to input them all (although it's cool in that you can mostly just input the ISBN and it pulls the author/title/etc from Amazon).

I really need more actual bookcases, though. I've got books sprouting around here like fungi. It's a sickness.

Irrelephant said...

I know the thing with books--I spent two and a half HOURS sorting my books back into the bookcse, and naturally filled it right up. Time for another one, and this one isn't even done yet. But I'd be lost without my books.

The dbase thing is interesting, may have to look into it when I get a hair wild enough to copy ISBN's off every one of those danged things. I think I'd rather buy a small Guatamalan child and train him to learn every single title and location and be able to spout it out on command. It'd be such fun at parties!