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Squishy
I’m a squishy girl with some fashion sense. So of course it made
perfect sense to work for the trendy plus size store at the mall.
Best and worst job ever!
I had just moved to the city from a small town and had to take public
transit (an entirely different experience in itself as you can see
from the new website! HAH!) which was a total nightmare. The buses
only ran every half hour and if they had to pick up a wheelchair,
heaven forbid TWO then I was guarenteed screwed. Not to mention the
countless times the buses broke down. I was already in for a 2 hour
bus ride with 4 bus changes. So of course getting to work was no
peach.
I started out as a regular sales associate, but soon got promoted. I
had no managerial experience at the time and I was promoted simply
because my store manager was the laziest boss on earth. And she knew
I was eager to learn and to make a good impression. Oh, the lessons
learned!
Now you’d think since we were ALL squishy girls we’d bond or some
shit. Or atleast have some compassion for each other. Nope. Not my
fire crotch boss. I’ve never heard so much shit talked about
everybody in my entire life, and I lived in the shit talking capitol
of the US, Lake Havasu City, AZ.
I am diabetic and waiting for the bus and my blood sugar crashes.
(6.25 an hour really doesn’t get you all the nutrients you need plus
pay bills ya know?) I passed out in the middle of the street during
morning traffic. No one helped me. I called my boss when I finally
dragged my ass back to my apartment only to be informed if I wanted
my job I better be on time because she had a class and she couldn’t
miss it… but my near death experience wasn’t a big deal. So I go in
all chewed up and pale and shaky (after a 2 hour bus ride mind you)
and she just tells me I look like shit and should have worn more
makeup.
I was late a few times because of the bus. No biggie right? The boss
came in late by atleast 10 minutes almost everyday complaining that
she couldn’t get her outfit right or her hair wasn’t doing what she
wanted. So like an idiot I assumed that my occasional half hour tardy
due to public transit was forgivable. WRONG.
My Aunt passed away and I attended her funeral one weekend. The
following Monday we had a managers meeting at 8:30am. I showed up on
time with everyone else and the meeting began. About 10 minutes in
she asks me to join her in the back and proceeds to conduct my exit
interview. I was being fired. For too many tardies. Company policy
and all that jazz. Fuck that. I cried out of shear anger.
I refused to step foot in that store again… until I heard she had
moved away. It’s hard to keep a squishy girl away from cute clothes
that fit!
I heard she procreated. Woe to the world and the spawn she brought
upon us.
33 Comments to Squishy
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You should have gone to her boss after your “near-death experience” and told boss what she said, and gotten *her* fired on the spot.
So you are upset that you got fired because you didn’t show up for work when you were schedule? I don’t see the problem here.
I agree with Les, but even if it may have gotten the boss fired in the long run (unless she became the manager after the boss got fired) she probably would have been let go anyways since company policy is what it is and exceptions are usually not made if you have to take public transit. They would expect you to do what you have to do to make it to work on time.
Easy solution: if buses run every half hour and you are sometimes half an hour late, get on an earlier one.
Sorry, had to be said.
Only real issue I had with this story was that story teller expected it to be ‘okay’ to be late by a half hour on occasion. Others already said get an earlier bus. You allow for things like traffic and such, so that may mean ending up at work a little early. If so, pour a cup of coffee, read the morning paper, whatever until it is time to clock in. Being late a half an hour once? Okay, I can excuse that. More than once, especially for the same reason? Not so much. The boss that was late every day about 10 minutes? Yeah, well, that’s her boss’ problem and if it’s not being dealt with, then her boss is shitty too.
That’s why you leave earlier.
My old job at Staples wants me back. I’m happy because the awhile manager and bitch that called and harassed me during my uncle’s funeral are gone.
I want to punch you in the throat for saying “squishy”. I stopped reading after the second time you said it.
I gotta call it. Parts of this story may be true but some certainly are not.
Easiest one…Lake Havasu City, AZ: Area: 43.1 sq miles (111.6 km²), Population: 52,935 (2011). How does that equate to a 2-hour bus ride with 4 changes?
Ha, squishy, the new fat!
I quote from Finding Nemo.
I shall call him Squishy and he shall be mine and he shall be my little Squishy. Come on, little Squishy. [stung by jellyfish] Ow! Bad Squishy, bad Squishy!
those that already posted that you should’ve taken earlier buses are right. if you knew that the bus system sucked, either start a lot earlier or find another way to work.
Why would you travel 2+ hours for a minimum wage job?
Why would you call yourself squishy? That just sounds disgusting. There is nothing wrong with being a big girl but the second you call yourself squishy you invoke the ICK! factor. If I walked in a store and was called squishy I would immediately bring the manager into it. That just sounds gross. Calling yourself a big girl sounds much better.
On another note, it is your responsibility to manage you disease. You know you are diabetic and you need to be prepared to deal with it. If the job doesn’t pay enough to buy decent food then you look for something else.
It is also your responsibility to show up on time, public transit or not. Leave earlier. You made the choice to work a couple hours away by bus. You deal with it. Employers will work with you if it is not a regular thing and if you give them a heads up should something happen. You obviously did it way to often.
I reckon you are a godless heathen sloth who regularly engages in gluttony without taking the time out to pray for the bounty God set before you.
Yeah, I’ve had to commute to work by bus before. It sucked. But you know what, OP, I took the bus that would get me there early because I’d rather have some time to myself before I start work rather than rushing to punch in. The winters where I am also suck, so taking an earlier bus gave allowance for bad driving conditions. Oh yeah, and the bus I needed didn’t run on sundays back then, either. I had to walk to work on sundays. Sure, it was only a half hour walk, but in -35C weather with three feet of snow, it’s something I don’t particularly enjoy.
And the diabetic thing. You know you’re diabetic, so take your insulin if you’re insulin dependant, or eat something sugary. I have a bad food allergy, I’m responsible for making sure I don’t eat what I’m allergic to. I check ingredients on everything (including health care products, body products, and cosmetics). I don’t just think, hey, what the hell? I’ll risk it.
Meh.
Are you squishy in all the right places?
Anyway, what others said – should have taken an earlier bus. Problem solved. If I have an employee that comes in 30 minutes late on occassion, I’d have issues with it. Your duty to come in on time, every time. Your boss is late consistently? That’s not your concern….she’s a shitty boss but don’t worry about it.
Sell blow jobs. You won’t even have to leave your apartment.
you moved to the big city of Lake Havasu to work a minimum wage job, and you lived 2 hours away from said minimum wage job?
You lost all sympathy around the second “no big deal, right” type qualifier, indicating that you didn’t think it was important to show the fuck up on time.
FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP FAP
Patricko, Lake Havasu could be the small town she lived in prior to moving to the big city. It was past tense when talking about it.
who the fuck would travel 2 hours to get to a low paying job…? apparently jobs are tough to come by these days but it cant be that tough….squishy girl. i have to travel 45 minutes to get to the shelter when i volunteer but thats life in the city….and i dont drive myself….i am driven…and while im in the car, i just listen to my playlist…..
I agree with my Brother in Christ. Clearly the cornucopia isn’t seen by you as a blessing from our Lord but rather something that you are entitled to. I take great issue with the obesity epidemic in America today and it seems to me that you are making light of it. I ask you to pray to the Lord for forgiveness.
I’m squishy in the boobies.
Kate you owe us a pic of your bewbs. Do it. Now.
yeah show us your tits….no one guess where i live so no one gets to see mine…your loss fuckers…theyre glorious
Someone I did for four months at a job at the mall of America. Then I realized that working at a mall is not worth a 20% discount on old navy clothing.
i want to punch the writer for calling herself squishy too. also when they say fluffy that shit bugs me. speaking of shit, i bet thats what the homos on here think of when she says squishy and they get all exsited. lol! lol!lol
Kate, you have been trying to tempt us with images of your bewbs. Are you gonna come through for us or not? I’ll buy you an ice cream and let you steer the car when I drive you home.
I see Kate is still a heathen, just as she was before my absence. Nothing has changed in her life. Kate, I recommend 6 months unplugged and an above average amount of praying. Perhaps a Lysol bath as well.
Walt as a Jedi I pray you find your balance in the force. As for the pic of my boobs soon you shall see.
This is why you’ll work in fat girls (squishy?? Lets call a spade a spade) clothing store or at McDonalds the rest of your life. The world doesn’t operate on your bus schedule. Oh, and your diabetes? Probably caused by your “squishiness”.
Squishy…..?
That’s just as bad as when they say “pleasantly plump”.
Squishy is an insult to fat people. I’m fat, over-weight, big, tubby but not squishy. And get a job nearer your house, catch an earlier bus, take better care of your health, be grateful for the promotion or get a job nearer your home.
Walter, not everything is religious/religiously motivated.
Seriously, quit.