2.b.ii
“Why’s it so
hot in here?” Tanya asked.
“Yeah, I
know,” said Mr. Jones. “I’m sweating.”
“Hey. Is it always this hot in here?” Tanya asked
one of the Jolene’s employees nearby.
The lady was stocking obnoxiously small packets of notions from an
obscenely large cardboard box. She
tugged on her forest green polo, scratching at the embroidered Jolene’s
logo. Her blue-white, cottony hair
frizzed fromthe humidity of her scalp sweat and her face flushed a rashy red.
“The air
conditioning is broken again,” said the cottony haired woman.
“Yeah, I’ll
say,” said Tanya. “When is it supposed
to get fixed?”
“Oh, about
three weeks ago.”
“Three
weeks. Are you kidding me?”
“Gosh no, I’d
never insult a guest,” she said glancing at the box of notions sitting on a
cart, still unworked.
“Honey, you
aren’t insulting me. But this
ridiculousness with the AC is not only insulting, it’s dangerous.”
“You look like
you’re ready to pass out,” Mr. Jones said.
“I’ve come
close a couple of times, but I haven’t gone down yet,” the cottony haired woman
said. “I can’t afford to. Regina
“They fired
her?” Tanya asked.
“Oh yes. Keep in mind, she was given several warnings
not to do it again and… well, she went and did it again. So I guess it was her fault really.”
“No. That’s bullshit,” Tanya said.
“What’s your
name, sweetie?” Mr. Jones asked.
“Margaret,”
the cottony haired woman said.
“Margaret,
who’s your manager?”
“Tina. She’s probably up at customer service. By the registers.”
“Can we bring
you a glass of water?” Tanya asked.
“Oh we’re not
allowed water on the floor,” Margaret said. Her tongue made pasty smacking sounds against
the roof of her mouth when she spoke and small sweat beads bedazzled her brow.
“I’m getting
you some anyway,” Tanya said and stormed off.
“I better get
back to work,” said Margaret and she turned back to her box full of notions.
Mr. Jones grit
his teeth and marched toward the front of the store. The manager was nowhere to be found so he had
one of the sweaty checkers page her.
In a few
moments a haggard looking, middle-aged woman with sweat matted hair and pit
stains soaking through her polo, scampered to the front.
“Hi, Tina,”
Mr. Jones said, his voice failing to disguise his anger. “I’m a concerned party and I was wondering
about a couple of things. The first of
those things being the very uncomfortable temperature in this place. The second is the limited access to water
that you allow your employees.”
Tina shook her
head and grimaced. After a drawn out,
calming breath she said, “Are you from corporate?”
“I am not
affiliated with Jolene’s in any way.”
“Well, unless
you’re from the head office and are here to personally oversee the so-called
repair of our air conditioning system, I don’t care what your concerns
are. If, on the other hand, you’re a
loyal customer and find the heat unbearable, then I apologize and assure you
that we are working on it.”
“That’s a hell
of an attitude.”
“Don’t blame
me. Corporate won’t let me simply call
in a repairman.”
“Are you
saying that all of this,” Mr. Jones said, gesturing toward and through the air,
“isn’t your doing?”
“You got that
right. I don’t make policy. And I sure as heck wouldn’t adhere to any
mandate to keep the heating and cooling systems in a constant state of
non-repair to cut expenses. I sweat just
as much as the other employees. Keeping it
cozy for the sweater set is one thing, but this sort of heat poses serious
health risks as far as I’m concerned.”
“And the
water?” Mr. Jones asked.
“What water?”
said Tina.
“Exactly. These employees don’t have access to water
while they’re working.”
“Yeah. Ridiculous, I know. Talk to Sean.”
“Who’s Sean?”
“He’s our
resident douche,” a young girl behind the register called out. Tina shot her a glare, but smirked at the
same time.
“A
douche? As in… bag?”
“That’s the
one,” the young girl said. Then she and
the other ladies up front started giggling.
“District
Operational Supervisor. D.O.S. He likes to tell the newbies D.O.S. for
dos. As in, dos and don’ts and if you
have any questions about what you should and should not do… go to him. Molly made the leap from dos to douche within
the first week of employment. Which is
probably why I keep her around. Lord
knows I don’t get much work out of her.”
“And where is
this douche?”
“Can’t
say. Just try to think of something
douchey a douche-bag supervisor would do and that’s probably what King Douche
is doing.”
