Racism @ Work Part 2

Last weekend (August 26th & 27th) were the worst days in my entire time at my job. I didn’t even blog about it because I wasn’t sure if I should. I’ve blogged about the girl who works in Drive-Thru that doesn’t like me. I was totally fine with her not liking me, she doesn’t have to like me, she does have to work with me though.

Well I had sort of a meltdown at work. On August 26th, the girl in Drive-Thru (we’ll call her Wanda) got mad at a supervisor for telling her to stock her station because she was standing there and talking with the other Drive-Thru girl. Wanda goes and gets the store manager (we’ll call him Eric). In the middle of Drive-Thru she starts complaining about how the other manager treats her. I was working fries so I was right next to the the Drive-Thru. Next thing I overhear is Wanda saying, “She knows I don’t like it.”
Eric replies, “Have you told her?”
Wanda says, “She knows I don’t like it. She doesn’t like me because I’m black. She likes Christine (not real name) because she’s white!” Christine is of mix race, her mother is white, and her father is black. At the moment I walked past Drive-Thru, glanced over at Wanda who pointed to me and said, “You’re racist! Tell him you’re racist!” She indicated Eric. I calmly replied I was not racist and being called racist was offensive to me. Honestly I didn’t like the girl because she was lazy and mean and acted entitled. Her skin color didn’t have anything to do it with anything. However I was concerned for my job because Wanda is a member of management that I would be written up, or fired.

On August 27th, I was working fries again and I greeted a coworker (whom I liked and was black) we’ll call her Shariah. She didn’t have her hat on or her weave in and I complimented her about how nice her real hair looked. She told me she missed her hair appointment, I empathized with her, asked if she was going blonde again, and she said she was. An hour later she comes over to me with her finger crooked. I asked if she broke a nail, she replied no, so I asked what was up. She says to me, “I wish I could hook my finger into your voicebox and rip it out who you couldn’t talk anymore.”
I was shocked, appalled and frankly, my feelings had been hurt. I stated, “That hurt my feelings, why would you say something like that?”
She replied, “Because I’m not a nice person!”
I stated, “Then how can you work in this profession?” She didn’t answer.

So I spent the rest of August 27th in tears off and on while working my station. About midnight I was hungry and figured food would help my mood. So Christine is sweeping the floor. I make a sandwich and eat it next to the trashcan. She’s going on and on about not making a mess. I dropped two pieces of lettuce from my sandwich onto the floor. I picked them up and put them in the trash. I’m still in tears, I’ve tried to tell management that I’m tired of being mistreated. The manager shrugged and walked away. Christine is still going off on me about making a mess and I was just done, I couldn’t take anymore. I took off my headset and went home.

So I called the next day which was Sunday to the Regional Manager, the Director of Operations, the Corporate Office in Ohio, and then called the Store Manager who said he couldn’t do anything because I had called the RM. Who had called him, then called me and set up a meeting on Monday to talk, which he said was to be Eric, the RM, Wanda and myself. So I arrived and it was just myself, Eric and the RM. I explained what had happened, and the asked what did I want to happen. I informed them that I wanted some sort of blanket reminder of the core values of the company. They informed me this was a one on one thing. I said okay.

However on Friday night I had already started looking for a new job.


Author: Ransacked Turnip

I'm a dreamer, a coffee drinker, and a lover of animals.

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