Back in 2018, with an eye to writing a novel about low-wage work in America, I got a job at a big-box store near the Catskills in New York, where I live. I was on the team that unloaded the truck of new merchandise each day at 4 a.m.
I remember when I was young, working at a restaurant and riding the bus there, in a small city with terrible public transit, and being given split shifts with 4 hours in between the shifts. I complained to management that I couldn’t even get home in those 4 hours because the bus schedule didn’t allow me to get back in time if I did, due to infrequent stops, and that they were making me hang out for 4 hours in the break room unpaid. They promised to quit doing it and then like 2 weeks later went right back to it so I quit without notice or even really telling them.
The first day I actually missed was orientation for the job I replaced them with, and they actually called me during orientation, and asked me if I was coming in and I got to tell them that I wasn’t because I was busy at job orientation, which was at least pretty satisfying.
I remember when I was young, working at a restaurant and riding the bus there, in a small city with terrible public transit, and being given split shifts with 4 hours in between the shifts. I complained to management that I couldn’t even get home in those 4 hours because the bus schedule didn’t allow me to get back in time if I did, due to infrequent stops, and that they were making me hang out for 4 hours in the break room unpaid. They promised to quit doing it and then like 2 weeks later went right back to it so I quit without notice or even really telling them.
The first day I actually missed was orientation for the job I replaced them with, and they actually called me during orientation, and asked me if I was coming in and I got to tell them that I wasn’t because I was busy at job orientation, which was at least pretty satisfying.