So, I’m out of CEX finally. I don’t even know what to say, I thought I’d never escape.
It sounds stupid, but I actually loved that job. There was so much pissing about that some days it didn’t feel like a job at all. We had so much fun that sometimes you could overlook the fact that you were expected to be there for 9am (but got paid from 9:30am only, whether you clocked in at 9 or not) and didn’t get paid beyond 6pm (though if something went wrong or if there was a lot of stuff to do you’d end up staying till 6:45 on a bad day) so we did end up losing out on a lot of money - money we needed for rent and food, while the franchise owners drove around in BMWs, wore crisp 200 pound trainers, refused to give us sick pay and told us if we got paid late and it messed stuff up, that was our fault for having our direct debits coming out exactly on the day they always paid us on.
My particular boot up the arse was a direct result of my own incompetence. I’d been working there for 3 years, and I still wasn’t any good at the fucking job. I’m pretty forgetful, I rush, I’m quickly distracted and I panic easily; that’s no good for buying in expensive phones and consoles when you have to be at the top of your game, as it were. I made a lot of mistakes, and I mean A LOT. At the beginning, mistakes were taken out of your wages. If you bought something in as the wrong thing, if you bought something in broken, if you broke something, if somebody STOLE someting whilst you were demoing it to them, then the value of it was taken out of your (meagre) wages. This was all well and good; I think I must have paid about a grand in mistakes for the first two years.
Enter New Manager, under pressure to make us a better shop. My mistakes were pretty much overlooked under Old Manager, as long as I paid them because I worked damn hard. I was always doing something if it needed to be done, despite the massive amount of goofing off I got done in the meantime. People always commented on my ability to not shy away from work.
Long story short, the rules were changed. Mistakes would go down as warnings, instead of being docked from our wages; verbal warning for a first offence or something small, written for something bigger and final written warning for something massive. I’m sure you can guess by this point what happened: I fucked up again and again, until I was on a final written warning. Rob advised me to cut my losses instead of the shame of getting sacked and besides, I needed a half-decent reference. I handed in my notice (typewritten on a typewriter, I tried to keep it classy) and got jobhunting.
First interview was Tesco. I’m a fucking idiot so I had no idea where this Tesco was, google maps didn’t recognise the postcode, so I guessed. Nope, wrong, The particular Tesco I applied to was 5 miles away. I have no money and can’t walk that far twice a day with asthma, so had to turn it down. Couldn’t even attend the interview. Shit.
Second was an arcade. I’ve done arcade work before, it’s shit. Broken gambling addicts weeping because they’ve put all their money in the Rainbow Riches, whilst you try to console them with a completentary sandwich and a cup of tea. Long, boring hours.
(In my last arcade job, the assistant manager got so bored she put her entire £700 float in the Gold Rush and Joker Poker (I can still hear the sound of that machine in my head, after 8 years) and the store manager had to get all of her savings out to cover it up. I went up to 10 stone sitting at the counter eating full english breakfasts 3 times a day while heroin addicts dumped their shoplifted makeup on the floor by the Jiggin In The Riggin machine for the customers to peruse. Aaaanyway, I still don’t know what’s going on with that. I had no less than 3 interviews - with the manager, ass manager and area manager - and the manager seemed really keen to give it to me. Not heard a thing.)
Third interview was Asda (Wal-Mart for those who live in america) night work. It’s shit work but BARE money - £8.60 an hour, going up to £9.20, with sick pay, and optional health insurance (we live in England so this is for stuff like dental and eye care) and a health check every so often ‘cause night work fucks your shit up good. The interview was pretty relaxed, a group interview, and then one-on-one. They made me feel very at ease and it wasn’t serious at all. They phoned me two hours later and told me to bring my passport and National Insurance details because I’d be starting my training the next day. Today’s the next day, I’m going in at 9:30. Finally I can afford carpet for my house!
If I ever like your sad post
It is support
I am not enjoying your tears