Nasty Knickers

So, my new job didn’t last very long. In fact, no more than seven weeks.

The reason was simple: the boss was a shit. A total, utter, copper-bottomed shit.

He spent all his time in rants of paranoid, delusional schizophrenia. Telling me to do my job all the time, despite mounting evidence that I was already doing my job, and doing it properly.

I couldn’t take the stress of him any more. The stress of the various signs and notices around the place telling everyone that they’ll get sacked if they don’t do X, Y and Z properly. That this, that and the other are totally unacceptable.

So the job had to go for the sake of my sanity. It wasn’t going particularly badly, but in truth the pay was appalling for the amount of work I was doing. Worse, I was doing night shifts and getting no extra reward for them, as is usual in most other employers.

Today, however, was the culmination of it all. After going in for my final bow, and insisting, firmly but politely, on my legal rights, the silly bastard started hurling personal abuse at me.

I stayed calm and rational, but he kept going. Knobhead this, knobjockey that. And all in the presence of his family (enslaved to work at his establishments and looking very embarrassed) and then later in the conversation in front of customers.

But then all of a sudden he switched. Like Jekyll goes to Hyde and back again, he was once more talking with me and working out what the best plan would be to end everything amicably and quickly.

Yet he remains one of these people from whom no errors are ever made or admitted. If they do make a mistake, it is invariably your fault. Everything is someone else’s responsibility, doesn’t matter who. The blame for everything that’s gone wrong was shifted from his overlords, the franchisor, to his fellow staff, to the managers, to the people he’d contracted the payroll out to, to the postal system. You name it, he blamed them.

Even better he then offered me a drink, which I took with glee. About the only free thing I’ve ever got from him and I wasn’t going to pass it up in the spirit of our suddenly blooming friendship.

At the end of it all though, things are still not right. I don’t have any wage slips. I still don’t have the pay I’m entitled to. I’m unsure whether he’s been deducting cash from my wages illegally. I’m not likely to get the accrued holiday pay. I still don’t have my property back, which he’s had for six weeks. This includes my passport, bank statements, graduation transcript and other documentation related to my self-employment.

All I can hope for is it all gets wound up very quickly and accurately. I now have his details and can nag him if I need to.

And then I have to work out what the hell to do with myself. Because everything I touch seems to turn to shit.

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