..works best on small screens!
Just Brad | 536 Posts
Time traveler and intergalactic secret agent for hire. Serious inquiries only.
Time traveler and intergalactic secret agent for hire. Serious inquiries only.
8r4d
Mctaggart
Mctaggart
8r4d
Four Months Later
Four Months Later
8r4d
It’s a helluva long story. I probably cannot do it justice here but here goes anyhow—about four months ago, mid-sabbatical, I put my name in and applied to work part time at a new local grocery store that was opening up in the neighbourhood.
They hired me basically on the spot and I started about a week later literally helping build out the store from scratch. I was the first non-manager in the building on day one, hard hat and hi-viz vest at the ready in a still-under-construction site. I spent a solid month over the summer building shelving, unpacking arriving palettes of food, and organizing a new concept retail experience. Manual labour as it gets most days.
It was all pretty awesome tho. It was. It really was, and gave me not just perspective and fresh air and movement and great company but too the flexibility to write three or four days a week. All this for a paycheque while simultaneously getting out of the house, working some real hands-dirty work, and hanging out with countless interesting people who together were just trying to build an interesting thing out in these suburbs of ours.
Ah. But the awesome didn’t last. Couldn’t, I suppose. Things went south, of course. Our opening was rushed and rough. Folks grew flustered. There were some corporate dramatics. People started falling and just a couple weeks after opening we were unceremoniously given a new store manager who—tho we offered him a fair chance to show us what he could bring to the party—seemed to be operating with a very different goal and philosophy than, to be blunt, what I had originally signed up for.
See. For me personally, the allure was the vibe. The heart of the place. The spirit of good food and lively culture and raw passion all wanted to be blurred together into a cool place to shop, eat, play, and learn. I bought into the idea that we were creating an experience, one of those places people drive across the city to hang out on a Saturday. Full of Instagram-able displays. Packed with knowledgeable staff. And a place that would become an enviable place for me to spend a few days per week. Oh you work there, people would ask. That must be fun. For a while I even believed this was the first step in a new and lively career in retail food where I could slowly climb and become a part of a community and use my experience in comms and business and tech to add to something cool, tho by starting at the bottom and really learning the biz.
The change in philosophy manifested slowly at first, just small things each new week it seemed, popping up as minor changes to the operations, nudges towards decisions that had been avoided originally because it would go counter to that aforementioned vibe. Then it got aggressively strange. No style. No grace. No vibe at all. Just get the stock to the floor and worry about organizing it at some vague later time. The plan was raw urgency over substance, and as we used to say: counting paper clips—y’know like getting riled up over the trivial stuff. It felt wrong and narrow and nitpicking.
Of course I did my job as best I could—but I also started making an exit plan on the side. I did my job but my enjoyment seemed to sap to new lows with each shift. My coworkers were amazing and optimistic and delightful to spend my day with, but the soul of the store had left when corporate fired the original manager.
People still shopped there—well, fewer people but still customers, but suddenly there were more complaints, customer confusion, and you could tell we were letting people down when they walked through the door. This was supposed to be something special. Instead it was becoming a mini-Walmart poorly disguised as something better than it actually was, trying to have that vibe but slipping further away each day that passed.
Things snowballed. Fast, too. Like in days and then hours and then every time I spoke to someone there were people and processes collapsing, and so I gave my notice earlier this week. And then just hours after I clocked out for the last time news flew across my phone chat that a bunch of others had done the same, like—clocked out for the last time but not of their own will. Less than two weeks before Christmas they had laid off a significant portion of the staff. Had I not quit on my own, who knows?
Yeah. Ugh. These were people I had worked with for four months and started to think of as friends. Good people legit working hard honest days. Thanks no thanks. Bah humbug.
It’s a helluva long story and I can’t properly explain it all here, of course not, but I think it’s worth knowing that it happened and also knowing that it is over—over for me at least, and I am done with early shifts and grocery drama and on to other things as, reflecting on what I learned and how this little adventure has shaped my perception of people and leadership and work, all as I sit here on a Friday evening contemplating this crazy little grocery adventure I went on for four long crazy months. #grocerygames
They hired me basically on the spot and I started about a week later literally helping build out the store from scratch. I was the first non-manager in the building on day one, hard hat and hi-viz vest at the ready in a still-under-construction site. I spent a solid month over the summer building shelving, unpacking arriving palettes of food, and organizing a new concept retail experience. Manual labour as it gets most days.
It was all pretty awesome tho. It was. It really was, and gave me not just perspective and fresh air and movement and great company but too the flexibility to write three or four days a week. All this for a paycheque while simultaneously getting out of the house, working some real hands-dirty work, and hanging out with countless interesting people who together were just trying to build an interesting thing out in these suburbs of ours.
Ah. But the awesome didn’t last. Couldn’t, I suppose. Things went south, of course. Our opening was rushed and rough. Folks grew flustered. There were some corporate dramatics. People started falling and just a couple weeks after opening we were unceremoniously given a new store manager who—tho we offered him a fair chance to show us what he could bring to the party—seemed to be operating with a very different goal and philosophy than, to be blunt, what I had originally signed up for.
See. For me personally, the allure was the vibe. The heart of the place. The spirit of good food and lively culture and raw passion all wanted to be blurred together into a cool place to shop, eat, play, and learn. I bought into the idea that we were creating an experience, one of those places people drive across the city to hang out on a Saturday. Full of Instagram-able displays. Packed with knowledgeable staff. And a place that would become an enviable place for me to spend a few days per week. Oh you work there, people would ask. That must be fun. For a while I even believed this was the first step in a new and lively career in retail food where I could slowly climb and become a part of a community and use my experience in comms and business and tech to add to something cool, tho by starting at the bottom and really learning the biz.
The change in philosophy manifested slowly at first, just small things each new week it seemed, popping up as minor changes to the operations, nudges towards decisions that had been avoided originally because it would go counter to that aforementioned vibe. Then it got aggressively strange. No style. No grace. No vibe at all. Just get the stock to the floor and worry about organizing it at some vague later time. The plan was raw urgency over substance, and as we used to say: counting paper clips—y’know like getting riled up over the trivial stuff. It felt wrong and narrow and nitpicking.
Of course I did my job as best I could—but I also started making an exit plan on the side. I did my job but my enjoyment seemed to sap to new lows with each shift. My coworkers were amazing and optimistic and delightful to spend my day with, but the soul of the store had left when corporate fired the original manager.
People still shopped there—well, fewer people but still customers, but suddenly there were more complaints, customer confusion, and you could tell we were letting people down when they walked through the door. This was supposed to be something special. Instead it was becoming a mini-Walmart poorly disguised as something better than it actually was, trying to have that vibe but slipping further away each day that passed.
Things snowballed. Fast, too. Like in days and then hours and then every time I spoke to someone there were people and processes collapsing, and so I gave my notice earlier this week. And then just hours after I clocked out for the last time news flew across my phone chat that a bunch of others had done the same, like—clocked out for the last time but not of their own will. Less than two weeks before Christmas they had laid off a significant portion of the staff. Had I not quit on my own, who knows?
Yeah. Ugh. These were people I had worked with for four months and started to think of as friends. Good people legit working hard honest days. Thanks no thanks. Bah humbug.
It’s a helluva long story and I can’t properly explain it all here, of course not, but I think it’s worth knowing that it happened and also knowing that it is over—over for me at least, and I am done with early shifts and grocery drama and on to other things as, reflecting on what I learned and how this little adventure has shaped my perception of people and leadership and work, all as I sit here on a Friday evening contemplating this crazy little grocery adventure I went on for four long crazy months. #grocerygames
8r4d
Cactus Club
Cactus Club
8r4d
Oh what a week, so we capped off the switch to the next next next chapter with a fancy dinner downtown. Somehow I even scored a free #beer and dessert just about murdered us with calories, but hey, you only go crazy occasionally, right? #grocerygames
8r4d
Downtown
Downtown
8r4d
A chilly morning #running off the 201st edition of our local #parkrun also turned into a milestone for AD. The #rivervalley looks chillier than it actually was tho, as e had a bit of a weekend reprieve from the brutal #winter cold.
8r4d
Street Cleaning
Street Cleaning
8r4d
One of the few perks of living on a bus route is that we are first in the queue to having our streets cleaned after the #snow falls.
8r4d
Forty Eight
Forty Eight
8r4d
Scenes from some ordinary day in November. Part 3.
8r4d
Forty Eight
Forty Eight
8r4d
Scenes from some ordinary day in November. Part 2.
8r4d
Forty Eight
Forty Eight
8r4d
Scenes from some ordinary day in November. Part 1.
8r4d
Mctaggart Trails
Mctaggart Trails
8r4d
Mill Creek
Mill Creek
