Beware Minimum Wage Workers…

Last night was one of the most awful fucking nights of my life.  I went to work sick, yet determined to do my menial, degrading job.  When I got there, I was approached by one of my supervisors. “Uh oh”, I thought as I walked back to the office.  I knew it was the day I was going to be fired.  I sat down just as my other supervisor entered the room.  Basically, what I was faced with was a double team “motivation session.”  I was talked to about everything from why I had chosen to give away my shifts, to my call out, to customer complaints.  I was not fired, but after that dry ass, bullshit, ball busting “attitude adjustment session, I wished I had been.  “Fuck it,” I thought as I went back out to my register.  I still had a job to do.

The rest of my night was equally shitty.  A customer had a large item (I forgot what the item was, really isn’t important) and somehow my finger got slammed inside of it.  I silently screamed “FUCK” but I couldn’t risk saying that in front of the customer.  When I went on break, there was play doh in the breakroom.  I constructed a bright blue sculpture of a middle finger and left for everyone to see; a perfect piece to show my affection for the company.

This is a typical day of a retail/fast food employee.  Most of us are overworked and underpaid.  I make 8.50 an hour; I would gladly trade checks with the company’s CEO.  I am 27 years old, and even if I worked full time, I wouldn’t make enough to have a life of my own (i.e. have an apartment, raise a family, etc.)  I wake up everyday with a sense of dread and disgust, yet I continue to go to work.

Undoubtedly, someone will see this post and ask “Why don’t you just quit?!”  Well my friend, I wish I could.  I truly do.  My writing approach is straight to the point and “no bullshit.” I never sugar coat anything for you guys.  My followers deserve more than that.  So to revisit the question, I don’t quit because my job does allow me a few pleasures.  I live at home with my aunt and three cousins, but I am able to pay my own phone bill, buy food, etc.  Those little luxuries keep me dealing with the bullshit.  The reasons that a minimum wage worker doesn’t quit their job are varied, but most people do rely on their jobs for the basics (food, shelter, insurance).  The struggle is real…

The second question that a lot of retail workers get is the incredibly ignorant, “well why don’t just go back to school?”  I went to school.  I have a Bachelors in psychology.  There are extremely limited options for what you can do in the field of psychology without a Master’s degree.  Therefore, I have student loan debt and no prospects for a good job.  If I go back to school, that’s even more debt to pay off. People in better positions than mine often say “cry me a river.” I have cried a river and the only thing that keeps me motivated is a willful and defiant spirit.

There are a lot of unhappy people in the retail/fast food industry and you should be very care about what you say and to whom you say it.  Trust me, if you piss off the wrong person, there is no limit to what they can do to harm you. I say these things not to scare you, but to inform you and force you to re-evaluate how you treat those you feel are “beneath” you. I have more than enough cautionary tales to tell.  For example, I worked for Victoria’s Secret during the holiday season of 2011.  A male co-worker was stocking fragrances and he was openly picking his nose.  Someone touched those fragrances, purchased them, and brought them home to their family members or friends.  Gross. 

I have my ways of fighting back too.  I am a cashier, so I am the last person who touches your food before you take it home.  People sometimes forget that.  I have shaken sodas, unscrewed bottles, purposely crushed bread, coughed and sneezed on items, and torn things open just to name a few.  If you’re disrespectful, you deserve it and I have no problem delivering…

The moral of the story folks is “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”  It’s a very simple concept.  If you wouldn’t want your family member/friend/child to be treated badly, don’t do it to anyone else.  I get it.  You want me to change the price or you’ve been waiting in line for a while.  I get it.  But that is no reason for you to treat me like I’m less than a human being.  I do this for a living, I don’t live to do this.  There’s a big difference.  I look for jobs everyday, but until I can find one, I’m stuck. If you’re ever confused about what is and isn’t acceptable, imagine that your child is standing behind that counter.   Stop talking to people who control your food and merchandise like they’re dogs.  We don’t get paid enough to take your bullshit.  You know what happens when you send back your food at a restaurant?  They spit in it. I’m just saying…

This is a hard dose of reality. Hate me now, but thank me later when you don’t end up sick.  T-minus 5 hours until work…



“A Day at the Beach”

Good morning WP fam.  I wanted to give you guys something special for being such great followers and supporting my vision.  You guys are truly awesome! I have provided you guys with a link to my slide show “A Day at the Beach.” I hope you enjoy it! 😉


The Visit

The Visit

About 3 months ago, my friend Ashli passed away. I was really depressed one day and struggling with the notion of attending another pointless day of work when I caught a quick glimpse of something moving out the corner of my eye. I saw the most beautiful butterfly I had ever seen fly across my path and I knew she was with me, watching over me…

Black Girl Found

Was never a rich kid
lowest on the totem pole
never had the light up sneakers
ma told me be thankful
mine didn’t have holes
far from being spoiled
I came from humble beginnings
A place where liquor stole souls
and even saints were sinning
where bars on your windows
were your main source of protection
and young men lost their lives
when they lost their direction
where niggas weren’t fathers
and children grew up quick
and the pollution in the water
made everyone sick

Who cares about a ghetto child
who could ever love me
who would care enough for my struggle
to save me from misery?


When I was seven years old
my grandmother passed
My father was her only child
so she gave her first born her last
no longer a child of the ghetto
we had moved on up
but money was still tight
we were still feeling stuck
People see your home
and think they know what lies within
but if I asked you to write my story
you wouldn’t be able to hold my pen
There were times in the winter
where we used our oven for heat
but no one knew how we lived
our house is the nicest on the street
cuz all that matters is appearance
and the front we put on
you may think you know the lyrics
but I haven’t finished my song

Who cares about the middle class
who are poorer than you know
who would care for my struggles
if I never let them show?

I used to cry for the child
for the person that I was
but I picked myself up
and I’m trying to do better because
the next generation
Any children I’ll conceive
will look to me for strength
someone positive to believe
I still struggle day to day
sometimes I feel the odds
aren’t in my favor
but the sweet taste of success
is something I long to savor
so don’t cry for me
or the struggles I’ve been through
cuz I’m the competition
and I aim to surpass you.

Don’t cry for me
my story isn’t through
I’m a success in the making
Maybe I should cry for you….