Not so sweet Caroline. She's been at the card shop for four months now. Every time I see that I'm scheduled to work with her, I feel a knot in my stomach. Because she hates me. Because I'm old.
She reminds me that I'm old frequently. No, let me rephrase: from the moment that we met, she has highlighted to me that she is young. Her regular refrain is, "The reason Helena (our store manager) and I work together so well is that we're exactly the same age." OR "Helena knows I get this issue because we are exactly the same age." First of all, it's not quite true. Helena is 26 and Caroline is 23. Secondly, it's an HR violation. It would be the same as telling a black employee: "The reason Helena and I work so well is that we're both white."
Whenever we work together – she's the shift manager – Caroline makes it plain that I am inadequate for one reason or another. I don't work with her often, perhaps once every two weeks, so I have kept it to myself. I don't expect to like everyone I work with. I don't expect everyone I work with to like me. This job only pays $16/hour, so there's a limit to how much responsibility beyond my job description I'm willing to take.
In October, I heard from coworkers who had issues with Caroline, too. Zoey, a shift manager I work with often, asked me if I found Caroline "abrasive." Fuck, yes! Then I got a text from Rosa, another sales person, who asked me if Caroline was "mean" to me because she was mean to her. Both Rosa and Zoey spoke to Helena, so I could see no reason to pile on. Besides, I only work one or two days a week, and not always with Caroline. Rosa and Zoey feel her impact far more than I do.
Then Saturday happened. We had a major snowstorm here, so the store didn't get the foot traffic that was expected. Zoey, Helena and Caroline were alone in the store. Just the three of them, no customers.
Caroline began complaining about me. She said that because of my age I'm "barely competent." Zoey leapt to my defense, but Helena was "weirdly silent." I found out about all this in a series of texts, received when I was in the stylist chair getting my hair cut, from an infuriated Zoey. .jpg)
How Caroline sees me
Zoey even sent me a photo of the card that's tucked in the drawer under the register. Titled, "We Listen," it has instructions for reported HR violations.
I texted back to Zoey that she should calm down, I would take it from here. I told her there was no reason for her to be involved with this.
That was Saturday. From Saturday to Monday, I had been upset. I resent this. I was upset about Caroline while writing out my holiday cards, and I usually love writing out my holiday cards! I can't let problems at this little job take my joy.
Monday I had an hour-long chat with Helena. I may be an old fart, but I can read an HR manual. I emphasized to her that, while I was not willing to go to corporate, Helena should know that Caroline is putting the store and indeed the corporation at risk.* I mentioned that it's not only spelled out in the printed guide we received, age discrimination and the definition of "a hostile workplace" are demonstrated in the videos we all had to watch. She thanked me for "the grace" with which I have handled this. We'll see if anything comes of our conversation.
I only work with Caroline two more times between now and year-end. Unfortunately, the next time is tomorrow. Sigh. I am not looking forward to this. I wonder if, right now, Caroline is plotting where to hide my body.
I admit I'm suffering PTSD here. I have dealt with difficult bosses and fractious coworkers countless times since I entered the workplace as a secretary 50 years ago. When I was a creative director, there was a lot more at stake than there is at this card shop. This really isn't that big a deal.
Except that I thought this was all behind me. For the most part, I enjoy this little job. Most of the girls I work with – and they are girls, only one is over 30 – are welcoming and charming. My customers are great fun. I don't feel like dealing with workplace politics again. I resent it.
I hated writing this post. But I wanted to get it all down. I find that I sleep better and breathe better if I get it all down.
*Our little store is owned by a publicly held company worth $200 million.
Photo by Valentin Balan on Unsplash