The Twerp

So far, my part-time job at Dildo's is pretty much what you'd expect from a retail job: lots of work on the weekends, ample quantities of boredom and a seemingly endless supply of annoying customers.

I could write a post about some of these incredibly frustrating customers, and I probably will at some point. But today, I want to talk about one of the managers. I call him The Twerp, which is a kind nickname, considering I would really like to call him His Royal Douchiness. The total suckage embodied in this guy is definitely at an imperial level, I can assure you.

Rumor has it that he came to Dildo's by way of Toys R Us, where he was also a department manager. Apparently, he was fired from Toys R Us because his wife abused the employee discount too much. This is a completely idiotic reason to get fired, in my opinion. Hey, moron, tell your wife to knock it off. Duh. So now he is the manager of the home store department at Dildo's. He runs the show upstairs, where they sell bedding, dishes, fine china and the like.

In other words, he is NOT my manager. I work in accessories (jewelry, handbags, scarves, etc.). As you can probably tell, he likes to think he's everyone's manager. You can guess how well this sits with me and my coworkers.

His wife is rumored to wear the pants in their relationship, which isn't surprising, considering how fucking stupid he is. And supposedly she keeps him on a short leash. Speaking of short, he's short. At least 3 inches shorter than me. So we have all the ingredients necessary:

1. Overbearing wife
2. Short stature
3. A lower management position

Mix together and you get: one helluva Napoleon complex. This guy is on a power trip from the minute he steps into the store until the minute he leaves for the day. Which would normally just cause you to feel pity for his pathetic existence, but in his case, he is so goddamn irritating, all you want to do is fantasize about smashing his skull into the pavement. Repeatedly. Until his brains spill out.

As evidence of my wholly encompassing, sheer hatred for this man, I present to you the following anecdotes as evidence to substantiate my claim that he is in fact due for a serious beat-down in the Dildo's parking lot.

1. One time, a customer was looking at a bedspread set (comforter, shams, etc.). She really liked it, and since her birthday was coming up, she was going to ask her parents to get it for her as a gift. In order to show them what it looked like, she took out her cell phone so that she could take some photos of it. Out of nowhere, The Twerp swoops in to inform the customer that he cannot allow her to take photographs of the merchandise for "liability reasons".

Like what? The comforter is involved in a bitter custody battle?? Come on! He just did this because he could.

More evidence that he's stupid: The customer works at the daycare where his kids go. She knew exactly who he was! But he was sitting up so high on his horse, he didn't recognize her. Which is typical -- he has a tendency to act like he cannot be bothered to take the time out of his ultra-busy and important lower management schedule to do things like look people in the eye or ask them how their day is going. He looks at other people as though they are objects, rather than human beings. He probably didn't even realize who she was.

Needless to say, the woman didn't buy squat from him or his department. And she made sure to tell another employee why. Which is how I know about it.

2. I was working with Courtney Love (yes, the girl is the spitting image of her) one evening. She and I were marking down some jewelry that was now on sale. In order to do this, each item needs to be scanned with a scan gun, which sends the information to the printer. Then the printer makes a sale sticker for each item. It's not difficult work, but it is time consuming. Most of the time is spent looking for the scan guns. It had taken us a good 30 minutes to find 2 scan guns.

So we had scanned about 200 items a piece, and we were ready to print out that set of stickers before moving on. Courtney left to go find our manager to tell her we were ready to start printing. As soon as she walked away, The Twerp walked by, said, "I need these," and then proceeded to just take the scan guns! No explanation, no discussion, no apologies. I watched in horror as he immediately turned off the scan guns. This means that all 200 records we had just done were GONE. Courtney and I had to start all over.

What was really frustrating about this was that if he had been just a TINY bit considerate, and just waited for us to print off the stickers, he could have had the scan guns in ten minutes. But of course, this would rob him of an opportunity to be a fucking asshole.

3. To warrant against employee theft, Dildo's technically requires all female employees to carry a clear purse (nevermind that this doesn't stop people from stealing, but that's another post for another time). During training, you are issued a clear purse by management. When I first started working at Dildo's again, I saw that this policy was still in place. But I also noticed that a lot of the female employees did not abide by this rule. It's a long story, but I never went to any of the training, so I never got a clear purse. Since no one ever gave me a clear purse, and it seemed this rule was not really enforced anyway, I didn't worry about it. And no one has said a word to me about it.

Until Sunday, when The Twerp was the manager for the day.

It was just after 6pm, and all the employees headed upstairs to customer service so that we could clock out. Now, if an employee purchases something while they are at work, it has to be kept at customer service until their shift is over. So a lot of people were picking up their purchases before they went home. We all filed back downstairs so that we could exit the building through the back door, just like we always do.

True to character, The Twerp was perched on a table, right next to the back door. He wanted to look inside everyone's Dildo's bags. He wanted to make sure none of us were stealing things and sticking them into Dildo's bags, because you know, we are all criminals. He inspected everyone's receipts and scrutinized their purchases before letting them out the door.

"What a fucking douchebag," I thought. In my opinion and experience, these sorts of policies do not stop employee theft. They only serve to irritate and offend your staff.

Since I hadn't purchased anything, I went around him towards the door. Just as I began to push on the back door, The Twerp stopped me. I should have known.

"Where's your clear purse?" he asked me, in a condescending tone one usually reserves for three-year-olds.

With the same tone of voice and facial expression as a defiant teenager, I replied, "No one ever gave me one."

"Well," he continued, using a tone of voice that was so sickeningly sweet and fake it made my stomach churn, "We will have to just get you one on your next shift!"

By the time he finished this sentence, he was talking to the back of my head. I was so instantly irritated and annoyed, I had to walk away from him right at that second, or else I would have flipped him the bird and told him to suck it. It was all I could do not to get right in his face and scream, "FUCK OFF!!!"

Because my beef here is not with the store's policy about clear purses. I understand the policy, and yes, it's probably a good idea. My beef is with the way he handled it. He has had numerous opportunities to learn my name, to treat me like a human being and to give me the basic respect any employee would want from a supervisor. But instead, he treats me like a subject of his royal power. He doesn't even know my name or what department I work in. He has taken every opportunity to insult me and treat me like a child. None of the other managers do this. At all. In fact, the other managers are all cool as hell. Which only bothers me more -- you'd think he would see how other managers behave and realize that he doesn't have to act like that.

So that's why I want to grab him by the ear, drag him out into the parking lot and bash his skull in while I scream at him, "It is NOT my problem that you are a nutless wonder and wholly incapable of standing up to your own wife! I am tired of you treating me and everyone else here like we are scum of the earth! So you can take your Napoleon complex somewhere else, and go fuck yourself, you power-tripping twerp!"

And then, I want to stop, stand up, and kick him really hard in the ribs, ending with, "Fucking douchebag!"

And then I would walk to my car and drive home. And never go back to Dildo's.

Wow. I guess I'm due for a nice, long run. Or a vacation. Or a massage. I think I have a lot of pent-up rage right now. I need to do something about it. Because this daydream is WAY more interesting to me than anything involving Julian McMahon and suntan lotion.