Tuesday 7 August 2012

Depression era: survival of the shittest

Last few days have been a joke. First day didn't get to start til 11, second day was the same story but they let me in at half ten. Third day still the same uncertainty about whether or not I'll have a job but they are getting quicker and I got in for ten. Then that night while trying to clock out they said there's a new list on the wall (6 pages long) and if you're on it then you're not working anymore. I wasn't on it. Hope. Buuuuuuuttt....I wasn't on a list of people who are working tomorrow either. So I'm not working tomorrow. But I can ring in at 7 in the morning and ask about whether or not I can work and they might let me in.

It's like America in the depression era going down to the docklands everyday looking for work, only in this case my team lead and floor manager were clocking out at the same time and telling them to switch me with one of the duds, and also I received a schedule months ago with my hours saying that I was working tomorrow.

They must think the Beijing Olympic employment laws set the standard. It's bad enough doing 12 hour shifts on your feet all day with a 20 minute break where you have to walk for 10 minutes to get there and back, and then being told one of the duds who does fuck all work and goes home early everyday will be working in your place. Seriously so many of the staff are pure shit: one night I was on wash up and I had 4 (yes 4!) people drying and they couldn't keep up with me. But for some reason they won't ask the floor managers for a list of staff to keep and staff to drop, instead they pick people at random and at random I seem to be getting picked 4 days in a row.

After three 12 hour days (and don't give me this Brian Smyth shit about getting a sense of achievement doing 12 hour days, these are proper on your feet shifts carrying boxes and shit) the last thing I wanted to do was wake up at 7, but I rang up and they said I'm not on the cut list so I can come in. Awesome, Katie Taylor is on later.

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