: All About Acme
After nine years (well, eight years, ten months technically), I've finally done it. I've finally quit Acme. Before I lament, I need to bitch for a few minutes.
Obviously, the largest issue was simply the fact that I could not get a full-time contract. I pretty much hit a wall on that. I tried for a Dairy Head position. Didn't get it. I tried writing letters to both Steve Albrecht and Ed Harrison. Didn't change their minds. There's no budging, no room for change.
There was a moment - out of pretty much nowhere - back about two months ago when I realized completely that I would have to quit Acme. Up until that moment, I wanted to really make an effort to keep one foot in the door, but there was no doing. I had to give it up . . . because it had given up on me.
I have reason to believe that the company has gone rotten at the top. I talked to Nick Albrecht back in January, when he said flat-out: "Look at what I'm up against. A national chain: Wal-Mart!" Yes, of course. Wal-Mart. But at what point does Acme become Wal-Mart?
Acme's plan (very transparent, by the way) is to no longer award full-time contracts to any of its bakery, meat, deli, front-end, or stock personel. The majority of the employees with full-time contracts are likely to retire in the next 5-10 years -- leaving employees who are either destined to leave quickly (high schoolers and some college-aged) and people who realize very clearly just how much they're not making and thus, will not care.
To Nick Albrecht, employees are price tags and part-timers are on sale with the Acme card.
This is a company that touts ideas of family and community. But not allowing full-time employees? How does that help their families? Esspesically in these times? And speaking of community . . . wanting to tear down the Highland Theatre to put up and Acme mini-mart? Seriously?! THAT is what community means to Acme?
Let's see . . .
1) Taking away the ability for part-time employees to grow? Check.
2) Wanting to knock out beloved local business to put in a store? Check
Should we re-name it Acme-Mart?
I hate what this company has become. Nick . . . this isn't the military and it isn't a court of law. It's the grocery business. I spent nine years working for your company and something tells me I have a better idea as to what the costumers want than you do. Fool.
***
Anyways. On with the sentimentality.
I start my new job tomorrow. I'm definetly looking forward to it. I only have two days between Acme and Public Storage, but that's okay. I can live with that. I get my final gargatuan paycheck next week, containing not only last week's pay, but also two weeks vacations.
My last day was Saturday, but the good byes started Thursday. Pam got me a framed picture of the two of us from the ad last year -- we're holding her melons. She also got me a coffee mug and a card. I said good bye to both her and Amanda Albanse that day. Pam kissed me! I also said good bye to Holli, which was kinda sad, as I had been there with her as long as anyone.
Friday was my last day with the "old guys," Ronnie and Carl. Ronnie was in his usual state, gossiping like a girl and going on about Diane and trying hard not to be racist. Carl told us stories about how he and his wife sleep in seperate rooms because he keeps seeing things at night. I bought Carl a pack of sponges, because he is The Sponge. Said my good byes to Denise. I also worked with Billy one last time at Friday. He gave me a hug.
Saturday came. It was the big show. I showed up, unshaven (for two day -- take that John Demchoke) and worked for about the first hour because it was shockingly busy. Smitty had a line when I walked in the door! After that, I had my last hour of carts at 9:00 AM.
At about 9:45, I turned that corner on the south side of the building towards the rest of the stores and was hit with an actual flashback. It was like I suddenly realized that this was it. No more carts. I had flashes of doing carts with Justin and him standing right there, smoking and chatting while I was his look-out. Getting carts with Danny P and bonding over Star Wars and Star Trek. Talking comics while doing trains with Scotty. Going to Nick Habib and I's "special spot" (middle coral, south side). Gathering with Ben and Jess (when she was a packer), and Camden. And of course, being Cart Gods with Smitty. We could clear that lot in fifteen minutes.
So after bringing in my last line of carts from what Ronnie and Carl call "The Mountain" (last coral, south side), I went in and did the recycling. I spent a good twenty minutes talking to Russ, Paulette, and Rick Lester. Then I went back up front and worked for about half an hour until my break.
In honor of Tom's memory and because I never re-paid him for buying me a pop on my first day, I had a glazed doughnut. Ironically, I sat outside with Diana Snow on my break.
Chris Ungashick showed up to visit and we chatted for a while before I "had" to go back in. I worked for another hour, kinda. I fulfilled my last day promise to Diana Snow and flipped a gallon of milk. The customer looked like her eyes were going to explode, but it was fine.
At about noon, my last hour, I kicked off my final Tour of the Store. I started at produce, saying good bye to Mark and Kev, then went to the Deli. I bumped into Saki (the only bakery person left) and said good bye to him. I walked through the back rooms, feeling emotional but not upset.
I went into the Men's employee restroom and spit on this one toilet that was always a massive pain in the ass (the night crew guy on Saturday nights always shits and smokes, and never flushes). That felt fantastic.
I said my good byes in the back room to John Coomes and Curtis. I emerged, talking to Robe and Matt Hilbish. I said good bye to Julie, then Jerry, Colleen, Mary, and then finally came to the Frozen Food aisle. I walked down, remembering all of the conversations I had with Danny P and Bob over the years. All the arguements, all the debates, all the nerd-talk.
Man.
I chatted with Matt Reynolds, then returned to the front-end. I talked Shamaa and Cassie. Then I had a customer who . . . requires an explaination. She's an older lady, easily in her 70s. She shops almost every week. Every week, I've asked her for a carry-out and she normally says "Maybe after I'm done playing the lottery" or "I have to drop off some letters." She always promises to come get me after she's done with these things. She's never come and gotten me. However, she clearly has needed help as she's old and has a lot of groceries.
Well, of course, today I see her getting a carry-out from Mike. I stop Mike, tell him I'm taking her out, and I say to the customer: "Ma'am, for the past nine years, I've been asking if you wanted a carry-out and you've said no or told me to wait, then left. Today's my last day and I'm giving you that carry-out." She laughed and I took her out.
I came back in about 10 'till. There was some to-do about a hot girl outside handing out free vitamin water. I packed my last order for Smitty and even took a picture of my last bag. Then, after saying good bye to my managers, I proceeded to give my final farewells to the cashiers and packers.
I had many opportunities to tell off the ones I wanted to. But why? What would have happened if I told Sherry she was rude or told Mike he was lazy? It would have accomplished nothing. In the end, it didn't matter. I said good bye, hugged some, shook some hands, and that was that. Why make it negative?
Paulette got on the loud speaker and told everyone to say good bye to me. I got a card. I clocked out, had some claps as I walked down the front-end, heard some more good byes. I hugged Shamaa on my way out, flanked by Bob Montana and Smitty, who was giving me a carry-out, champange and cake in hand.
I walked out the door, paused, and let out a loud "YEEEAAAAHHHH!"
At my car, I said good bye to Bob, my Acme uncle and mentor. I will always regret having never worked in frozen foods with him.
Smitty and I hugged. I took a long look back at Acme Fresh Market # 16 . . . then got in my car and laughed with joy as I drove home.
***
I told someone the other day that I'll miss 90% of the employees at Acme and 5% of the customers. Out of the customers, I'll miss Lisa, "Pops," girl "whose job it is to be pregnant," and others. Employees . . . well, if you're friends with me on FB, you know who are. And then others on top of that.
Out of the job, I'll only really miss doing carts in the morning. As a writer, it was so nice to just turn off my brain for a while and develop and create ideas. Worlds have been born and destroyed in those cart hours. I've had so many ideas and just so few of them have ever reached the keyboard or pen and paper.
I hated register. Sucked at stock. I liked packing, kinda. (Cloth bags rock. Use them.) Propane exchanges were annoying, especially at strange times of the year -- like November or February. I hated cleaning the bathrooms on Sundays and most clean-ups in general. Getting change and price checks were pains. Carry-outs were also annoying, but weren't so bad sometimes.
Part of me will miss being there, but like I mentioned elsewhere, I was already missing parts of it. I already missed going back to FF and talking to Dan or bumming at the Coffee Bar with Steph or . . . well, just everything. Talking about Patty's kids, having dirty conversations with Jason, getting drunk at Olivia's, chatting about our dreams with Justin, or comics with Scotty. I miss that stuff already. I'll miss other things, yeah, but the "glory days" ended a long time ago.
In the end, Acme was place and time in my life. I had a lot of bosses (Dan McPeek, John Demchock, Cosmo, Paul, Henry Nagel, John Metzger, Kevin, Mike, Yvonne, Lil' Dan, Stacy, Bobby Collins, Denny, Bob Tomello, Greg, Don, and Dustin). I had some enemies - Mustachio Mike, Mike Freday, Joe the Imbecile, and others.
I had friends. I made friends. Some of my best friends either came from Acme or became better friends at Acme. In some ways, Acme changed my life. I disagree with what's happening there now and I would certainly change things in the past nine years if I could, but at the end of the day, it was a part of my life. Regrets and all, friendships and all.
That part of my life is over. I'm done with it. The next time I'm in there, it'll be as a customer.
Hopefully I'll remember to bring my reuseable bags. Plastic bags are horrible for the environment.
~W~
After nine years (well, eight years, ten months technically), I've finally done it. I've finally quit Acme. Before I lament, I need to bitch for a few minutes.
Obviously, the largest issue was simply the fact that I could not get a full-time contract. I pretty much hit a wall on that. I tried for a Dairy Head position. Didn't get it. I tried writing letters to both Steve Albrecht and Ed Harrison. Didn't change their minds. There's no budging, no room for change.
There was a moment - out of pretty much nowhere - back about two months ago when I realized completely that I would have to quit Acme. Up until that moment, I wanted to really make an effort to keep one foot in the door, but there was no doing. I had to give it up . . . because it had given up on me.
I have reason to believe that the company has gone rotten at the top. I talked to Nick Albrecht back in January, when he said flat-out: "Look at what I'm up against. A national chain: Wal-Mart!" Yes, of course. Wal-Mart. But at what point does Acme become Wal-Mart?
Acme's plan (very transparent, by the way) is to no longer award full-time contracts to any of its bakery, meat, deli, front-end, or stock personel. The majority of the employees with full-time contracts are likely to retire in the next 5-10 years -- leaving employees who are either destined to leave quickly (high schoolers and some college-aged) and people who realize very clearly just how much they're not making and thus, will not care.
To Nick Albrecht, employees are price tags and part-timers are on sale with the Acme card.
This is a company that touts ideas of family and community. But not allowing full-time employees? How does that help their families? Esspesically in these times? And speaking of community . . . wanting to tear down the Highland Theatre to put up and Acme mini-mart? Seriously?! THAT is what community means to Acme?
Let's see . . .
1) Taking away the ability for part-time employees to grow? Check.
2) Wanting to knock out beloved local business to put in a store? Check
Should we re-name it Acme-Mart?
I hate what this company has become. Nick . . . this isn't the military and it isn't a court of law. It's the grocery business. I spent nine years working for your company and something tells me I have a better idea as to what the costumers want than you do. Fool.
***
Anyways. On with the sentimentality.
I start my new job tomorrow. I'm definetly looking forward to it. I only have two days between Acme and Public Storage, but that's okay. I can live with that. I get my final gargatuan paycheck next week, containing not only last week's pay, but also two weeks vacations.
My last day was Saturday, but the good byes started Thursday. Pam got me a framed picture of the two of us from the ad last year -- we're holding her melons. She also got me a coffee mug and a card. I said good bye to both her and Amanda Albanse that day. Pam kissed me! I also said good bye to Holli, which was kinda sad, as I had been there with her as long as anyone.
Friday was my last day with the "old guys," Ronnie and Carl. Ronnie was in his usual state, gossiping like a girl and going on about Diane and trying hard not to be racist. Carl told us stories about how he and his wife sleep in seperate rooms because he keeps seeing things at night. I bought Carl a pack of sponges, because he is The Sponge. Said my good byes to Denise. I also worked with Billy one last time at Friday. He gave me a hug.
Saturday came. It was the big show. I showed up, unshaven (for two day -- take that John Demchoke) and worked for about the first hour because it was shockingly busy. Smitty had a line when I walked in the door! After that, I had my last hour of carts at 9:00 AM.
At about 9:45, I turned that corner on the south side of the building towards the rest of the stores and was hit with an actual flashback. It was like I suddenly realized that this was it. No more carts. I had flashes of doing carts with Justin and him standing right there, smoking and chatting while I was his look-out. Getting carts with Danny P and bonding over Star Wars and Star Trek. Talking comics while doing trains with Scotty. Going to Nick Habib and I's "special spot" (middle coral, south side). Gathering with Ben and Jess (when she was a packer), and Camden. And of course, being Cart Gods with Smitty. We could clear that lot in fifteen minutes.
So after bringing in my last line of carts from what Ronnie and Carl call "The Mountain" (last coral, south side), I went in and did the recycling. I spent a good twenty minutes talking to Russ, Paulette, and Rick Lester. Then I went back up front and worked for about half an hour until my break.
In honor of Tom's memory and because I never re-paid him for buying me a pop on my first day, I had a glazed doughnut. Ironically, I sat outside with Diana Snow on my break.
Chris Ungashick showed up to visit and we chatted for a while before I "had" to go back in. I worked for another hour, kinda. I fulfilled my last day promise to Diana Snow and flipped a gallon of milk. The customer looked like her eyes were going to explode, but it was fine.
At about noon, my last hour, I kicked off my final Tour of the Store. I started at produce, saying good bye to Mark and Kev, then went to the Deli. I bumped into Saki (the only bakery person left) and said good bye to him. I walked through the back rooms, feeling emotional but not upset.
I went into the Men's employee restroom and spit on this one toilet that was always a massive pain in the ass (the night crew guy on Saturday nights always shits and smokes, and never flushes). That felt fantastic.
I said my good byes in the back room to John Coomes and Curtis. I emerged, talking to Robe and Matt Hilbish. I said good bye to Julie, then Jerry, Colleen, Mary, and then finally came to the Frozen Food aisle. I walked down, remembering all of the conversations I had with Danny P and Bob over the years. All the arguements, all the debates, all the nerd-talk.
Man.
I chatted with Matt Reynolds, then returned to the front-end. I talked Shamaa and Cassie. Then I had a customer who . . . requires an explaination. She's an older lady, easily in her 70s. She shops almost every week. Every week, I've asked her for a carry-out and she normally says "Maybe after I'm done playing the lottery" or "I have to drop off some letters." She always promises to come get me after she's done with these things. She's never come and gotten me. However, she clearly has needed help as she's old and has a lot of groceries.
Well, of course, today I see her getting a carry-out from Mike. I stop Mike, tell him I'm taking her out, and I say to the customer: "Ma'am, for the past nine years, I've been asking if you wanted a carry-out and you've said no or told me to wait, then left. Today's my last day and I'm giving you that carry-out." She laughed and I took her out.
I came back in about 10 'till. There was some to-do about a hot girl outside handing out free vitamin water. I packed my last order for Smitty and even took a picture of my last bag. Then, after saying good bye to my managers, I proceeded to give my final farewells to the cashiers and packers.
I had many opportunities to tell off the ones I wanted to. But why? What would have happened if I told Sherry she was rude or told Mike he was lazy? It would have accomplished nothing. In the end, it didn't matter. I said good bye, hugged some, shook some hands, and that was that. Why make it negative?
Paulette got on the loud speaker and told everyone to say good bye to me. I got a card. I clocked out, had some claps as I walked down the front-end, heard some more good byes. I hugged Shamaa on my way out, flanked by Bob Montana and Smitty, who was giving me a carry-out, champange and cake in hand.
I walked out the door, paused, and let out a loud "YEEEAAAAHHHH!"
At my car, I said good bye to Bob, my Acme uncle and mentor. I will always regret having never worked in frozen foods with him.
Smitty and I hugged. I took a long look back at Acme Fresh Market # 16 . . . then got in my car and laughed with joy as I drove home.
***
I told someone the other day that I'll miss 90% of the employees at Acme and 5% of the customers. Out of the customers, I'll miss Lisa, "Pops," girl "whose job it is to be pregnant," and others. Employees . . . well, if you're friends with me on FB, you know who are. And then others on top of that.
Out of the job, I'll only really miss doing carts in the morning. As a writer, it was so nice to just turn off my brain for a while and develop and create ideas. Worlds have been born and destroyed in those cart hours. I've had so many ideas and just so few of them have ever reached the keyboard or pen and paper.
I hated register. Sucked at stock. I liked packing, kinda. (Cloth bags rock. Use them.) Propane exchanges were annoying, especially at strange times of the year -- like November or February. I hated cleaning the bathrooms on Sundays and most clean-ups in general. Getting change and price checks were pains. Carry-outs were also annoying, but weren't so bad sometimes.
Part of me will miss being there, but like I mentioned elsewhere, I was already missing parts of it. I already missed going back to FF and talking to Dan or bumming at the Coffee Bar with Steph or . . . well, just everything. Talking about Patty's kids, having dirty conversations with Jason, getting drunk at Olivia's, chatting about our dreams with Justin, or comics with Scotty. I miss that stuff already. I'll miss other things, yeah, but the "glory days" ended a long time ago.
In the end, Acme was place and time in my life. I had a lot of bosses (Dan McPeek, John Demchock, Cosmo, Paul, Henry Nagel, John Metzger, Kevin, Mike, Yvonne, Lil' Dan, Stacy, Bobby Collins, Denny, Bob Tomello, Greg, Don, and Dustin). I had some enemies - Mustachio Mike, Mike Freday, Joe the Imbecile, and others.
I had friends. I made friends. Some of my best friends either came from Acme or became better friends at Acme. In some ways, Acme changed my life. I disagree with what's happening there now and I would certainly change things in the past nine years if I could, but at the end of the day, it was a part of my life. Regrets and all, friendships and all.
That part of my life is over. I'm done with it. The next time I'm in there, it'll be as a customer.
Hopefully I'll remember to bring my reuseable bags. Plastic bags are horrible for the environment.
~W~
Current Music: To Go Home - M. Ward