“We’re Really Short Tonight, Can You Come In?”: The Weaponized Guilt Escapades.

Intentional Short Staffing Should Be A Crime.

Photo by Sabina on Unsplash

Why are you contacting me?

I just woke up to 6 calls, 8 texts, and 81 toxically over excited happy emojis.

I just worked 16 days in a row for you Silvia.

I can’t feel my face, and my feet have left death threats written inside my work shoes.

I’m not sure what day it is, and I’m pretty sure my couch is cheating on me with the throw pillows.

But you want me to give you my only day off, Silvia?

How about you... you know, try something new?

Like... I don’t know.

Hire people actually qualified to do the job?

Treat them right so they don’t quit?

Pay us enough that we can actually live?

You somehow managed to rebrand Jim Crow as “competitive wages.” The mental kung fu you had to do to justify that would make even Shaolin jealous.

Your turnover rate is so high that WWI trench lines would like a word.

Between the mandations and forced OT, I even saw Michael Myers cosplaying as Harriet Tubman trying to help some of us escape.

I guess even horror has its limits.

Silvia, you come in late every day.

Bright eyed and bushy tailed, like you get your 8 hours of sleep.

I bet you even have hobbies.

You got your trademark “Venti half-caf soy caramel macchiato, upside down, extra shot, 3 pumps vanilla, 2 pumps hazelnut, light foam, oat milk drizzle, 120 degrees.”

In your monogrammed gold leaf cup.

But that “S” on the front should stand for Sycophant, because you forgot all about us who push that millstone to keep the front office happy.

The only thing you seem to remember how to do is find air while being shoulder deep up the brass’s ass.

I’m guessing you must have some kinda periscope in there too, since you wrote up Melinda last week for coming back from lunch two minutes too early.

You keep talking about how the next orientation class is full.

Full of what, tributes?

You hired fifteen kids who are gunna quit right after orientation.

Especially when they find out half of what you promised them was fake news.

And the other half was just cute carrots dangled in front of them while you march them into the meat grinder.

I’d say may the odds ever be in their favor, but conscience won’t let me detach that far from reality.

If I was you, I’d probably cancel my gym membership.

Cause when the torches and pitchforks come, you’re gunna get plenty of exercise.

And Dr. Frankenstein up in the front office?

If you hear someone yelling something about Sparta or something...

Just close your eyes.

-RC