Three Strange Days.

They were only strange for me, because I spent the better part of each in a fever dream state, sleeping and sweating and snortling on the couch (Yes it's a fucking word. Because I said so). The show on Thursday night was fabulous as usual. One of the guys was a bit under the weather, so I took him back to the house to dope him up with Ther@-flu while the b.h. finished closing the bar and the rest of the band loaded out. We stayed up late, ate pizza and snack food and talked a bunch of crap. It was fun. I didn't even feel that bad when I woke up after only five and a half hours of sleep and had to go to work at the Big Stupid Box Store. I figured it wouldn't be so bad because I had put in extra hours on Thursday and only had to work four and a half on Friday. No sweat.

Except that isn't how it went at all. I got there and we already had a truck waiting. We had no sooner unloaded it than another truck pulled up, this one with a giant order of indoor plants, which all come wrapped in paper or in boxes and are much more difficult and time-consuming to deal with. Elizabeth and I were the only ones working. Luckily the weather was so crappy that the outside cash registers weren't open, so we were able to pile up the stuff that was waiting in the aisle while we rushed to get the shrubs out before the next order came. While we were doing that, another truck pulled up. I finished putting out the shrubs while she signed that order in, and just as I was finishing, a Slightly Senior Manager (there are many, many managers in a Big Stupid Box Store. They like it that way because it makes it easier to find somebody to point a finger at.) came bumbling through the garden center, barking orders at everyone in sight.

"This needs to be moved right now," he said, mustering as much authority as a man with barely any authority can when there are other people with nearly as much authority present.

"Yeah. We'll get right on it." That was the approximate answer that Barb gave him. Barb is more senior in management than Middle Manager Jim, but less so than the Slightly Senior Manager who doesn't even warrant a name here, since I never see him. Barb is a very hard worker, and though she isn't always on top of everything, she is at least aware of her limitations and leaves decisions to the people who are most qualified to make them whenever the BSBS rules allow. I like Barb. We all do. Unfortunately, Barb doesn't have the power to fire MMJ or he would already be gone. Barb has a sense of humor, too. More on that later.

Anyway, into the middle of all this mayhem walks a Big(ish) Cheese from my Parent Plant Company. I am absolutely calm because I knew he would possibly be coming by, and therefore I had stayed late on Thursday taking care of the minutiae that the Corporate Guys like to focus on: The pots were all facing the same way, tags out, colors striped, dead plants culled, etc. etc etc. I won't bore you with details, but you can imagine how mind-numbing the memos are. Guys in suits in air-conditioned offices making decisions about things they have little or no experience with is How Corporate America Works! (I should make a documentary with that title). We spoke to him for a few minutes, telling him how all the orders (from his company, mind you) had run late and how there were just two of us unloading four trucks, and how it was going to freeze this weekend so we couldn't even put much of the product out or it would die, etc. He seemed to understand. He did look alarmed at a half-full rack of cacti, complete with three dead plants on it, until we told him that we had moved the rest inside because of the weather. He took some pictures, walked around a bit, and left. We were still up to our asses (literally) in paper and house plants.
I was unloading some orchids and a customer came by. She was an older woman who had just moved into a new house, and she was looking to brighten the place up a bit. We talked for a few minutes, marveling at the beauty of the orchids. She chose one that I had had my eye on for a week. I told her so and congratulated her on her good choice.
"Are you sure?" she asked. "I don't want to take the one you want."

Very kind of you, I explained, but I am here to make money not spend it, etc etc., and I can't afford to take home everything I like or I would never get paid. I told her I was just happy that some one was taking it home to enjoy so it wouldn't sit in the store and wilt. She thanked me profusely and left to go find moss. A minute or two later I discovered another box of orchids. These were different than the others, with much more color, so I went after her to let her know. She was very surprised and pleased that I would bother to come and find her, and she did wind up choosing an additional plant from the new box.

To make an excruciatingly long story as short as possible, she bought the damned white one for me. I was totally floored, and I tried to refuse it, but she wouldn't hear of it. I thanked her several times and then sort of ran away in embarrassment. Remember when I said I was socially awkward? Yeah.

When I told Elizabeth about it she smiled and said "Well hold onto that feeling, because in like two weeks you're going to lose all faith in humanity."
I laughed, but I know she's right. And it didn't even take two weeks for the wind to abruptly leave my sails.

The rest of the day was more of the same. We were busting our asses. Then we heard a rumor that it might snow. Elizabeth and I were both halfway out the door when the call came in, and we looked around, crestfallen, at all of the plants that would certainly have to come in if it snowed. Calls were made. Managers were summoned. Plants were racked. Then the SSM (Bob- I'll go ahead and name him now that he's been here twice) told Elizabeth that she had to go. No overtime allowed, no matter what. Somebody else would have to do it. Sweet. I was actually over on my alloted hours too, so I started wrapping up to go.
"Who's going to bring this stuff in?" I asked, disbelieving. You can't imagine the number of trees, shrubs, hanging baskets, and, worst of all, rose bushes we had out there.
"(Middle Management) Jim," replied Barb, smiling as she punched out. "Somebody'll have to tell him when he gets back from lunch."

I went home and crashed on the couch. My sinuses started acting up around nine that night, and by twelve-thirty I had what felt like a full blown cold. Slept all day Saturday, worked Saturday night (oh- remind me to tell you about the dumb-ass hippy what went to jail Saturday night), slept almost all day Sunday, and again all day Monday.
Monday evening I got an e-mail from Peggy Plants, my boss who I really like. There were several photos attached. The photos were taken in our store. On Friday. You know, Friday, the day the Big(ish) Cheese from the Parent Plant Company came in? He actually had the balls to point out that there were a few pots that were not facing the direction they should have been facing. He took photo documentation. And mailed them out to EVERYONE IN THE COMPANY. Another guy did the same thing on Wednesday when I wasn't there. Apparently he had waited until L and Elizabeth had removed some of the plants from outside so that they wouldn't freeze, then took pictures of the holes in the shelves where those plants had been, then spread out the rest of the plants for an "after" shot. What a fucking prick.
So yeah- there goes that whole "faith in humanity" thing.