End days at Dunkin for finisher Mickey January 10, 1985
Good ole Mickey comes stormy into work this morning, telling
everybody to go fuck themselves.
This comes after I made the dreadful mistake of telling one
of the other guards, Mickey might get the axe this morning.
Mickey always lets his temper get the best of him. He also
has a bad attitude. He’s been bitching since the day he started about the money
he’s not making – this includes when he and Mr. Wayne M, the other manager,
were still buddy buddy.
Mickey frequently griped at me. He wants the same
arrangement I have, being paid by the session not the hour, when nobody pays
finishers like that – no matter how much work they do.
So, out of spike, he slowed down. Even Mr. Wayne M
complained about him dragging his feet, claiming he didn’t like Mickey taking
advantage of their friendship.
Sometimes Mickey came in, sat down and bullshitted with Dan
(then the night guard) for hours. Other times he came in so late he couldn’t
get the orders out on time. Once (by his
own admission) he ripped up the wholesale order out of spite. He claimed it was
too late to ship anyway.
Wayne L, the new manager, claims Mickey must have ripped up
a whole week’s worth of wholesale orders – although can’t prove it. Wayne L,
however, is a notorious liar.
Anyway, when Wayne M left, he promised Mickey a job out at
his new store in Ledgewood. Everybody soon new Ole Mickey would go, too, even
though Wayne M told him to keep his fat trap shut about it.
But when Wayne M spoke to me about it, he had serious
doubts. He didn’t like the way Mickey goofed off. Mickey said he did less work
because he had been promised five dollars an hour and only got four.
The whole thing worried me.
I didn’t always like Mickey – especially when his bitterness
caused him to make snide remarks. He expected me to listen to him when he complained
but wouldn’t tolerate me complaining to him – especially when I complained
about my pay check not being ready when it was supposed to.
This sometimes put us at odds. Mostly, I let him go on the
way he was. But his telling Wayne L he would be leaving was a mistake, as if
Mickey didn’t care that it got back to Steve, the owner.
Steve doesn’t like the idea of someone looking for another
job while still in his employ. While he might have a complaint about Mickey’s
lack of productivity, Steve had not right to stop him from seeking a better paying
job.
At some point prior to Wayne M leaving, I told him I would pick
up the slack when Mickey moved on. I had done as much prior to Steve taking
over ownership, so I supposed (for a little extra cash) I could do it again.
Last week, Steve called me at home and ask, “How would you
like to pick up the slack on Mickey?”
He said he intended to fire Mickey but needed to know if I
could fill in the slot before they did.
I figured Mickey had to know. I told him that night. I
thought maybe he’d get scared and straighten up.
He didn’t; he got worse.
Steve called me again, offered to pay me under the table for
the extra work; I said, “hell yes.”
Still, I wanted Steve to talk to Mickey, but I suspected
this might not happen. I suggested Steve talk to Mickey the first time he wanted
to fire him. He never did. Or at least he said he couldn’t reach Mickey. Mickey
claimed he was home all the day in question and never received the phone call.
Wayne L claimed Mickey never gave them a number to call in the first place.
What a fine mess!
This morning before I left from the night shift, I told one
of the night guards (not Dan), I figured Mickey’s days were numbered – maybe even
as soon as Steve came in, who was due to arrive early.
Around eleven, Steve calls me at home and starts yelling at
me, saying I should not have said anything to Mickey.
I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about. I did
say that for weeks I had warned Mickey to straighten up or he would get fired,
and pointed out that I left the shop before Mickey signed in. Steve accused me
of leaving Mickey a note. I denied this (which is true). I’m sure Steve didn’t
believe me. Liars rarely believe other people when we are telling the truth.
Apparently, Mickey, getting wind of his termination, flew
off the handle and walked about, wishing the rest of us good luck.
The flustered Steve mumbled something about letting me know
if and when I should start on the extra work.
Later, I called Wayne L and pretended I didn’t know what was
going on. He said he didn’t know either (which was another lie) but said this
and other stuff had pissed Steve off so badly as to give Wayne L warning that
unless he straightens up his act, the store might need a new manager.
Perhaps Steve might think to replace us all, start fresh,
eliminate all old friendships so that none of us might warn people we like that
they might get fired.
I’ll miss Mickey; even if Ill be getting more money.
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