Best of you

2002 - As the year started, I was still collecting unemployment and it was due to run out by the end of the month. I still hadn't found a new job - normally I could pick up a new job without really trying but this was the worst job market I'd ever dealt with. I had applied out at the casino - I had worked there several years earlier and my mom was (and to this day still is) working there, but I had not heard back from them. Since my mom was a shift supervisor in the housekeeping department, I asked her to put in a good word for me. I needed to be employed again before my unemployment benefits ran out.

Further complicating matters was my sweetie. He had resumed his binge drinking and it was causing all kinds of havoc in my life. Worse yet, it was putting my building caretaker gig in jeopardy and that was the only thing keeping us afloat at the time. I suggested that maybe I was too hard for him to live with since he needed to get trashed so frequently, maybe he'd be happier living someplace else. For his part, he insisted that I wasn't the problem but he agreed to move in with a few friends of his and give me a break from his drinking. We still talked on the phone daily, and I visited him at his new place a few times a week.

I also spoke to his mother on the phone. I had hoped that she might side with me on this and help him get his act together. And while she did technically side with me on the drinking issue, she did nothing at all to discourage it. Quite the opposite in fact although I'm certain she would disagree. Most years for Christmas, she gave him Guinness beer paraphernalia of some kind - key chains, stickers, t-shirts, post cards, etc.. If it had the Guinness logo on it, she bought it and gifted it to him. Anyway, that year for Christmas she had given him more Guinness crap and his sister had given him a couple of Christmas tree ornaments that were little mugs of beer and I had finally had enough. During one of our phone conversations I mentioned to her that it seemed very contradictory to be wringing her hands over his drinking one minute and then turn around and gift him with beer related paraphernalia the next. I told her (and his sister) I felt like she was sending mixed messages and it wasn't helping the situation at all. Her answer? She didn't see it that way at all! Their family ancestry was Irish, she'd been to Ireland and the Guinness logo is everywhere over there. She said it was part of their cultural heritage and didn't see a problem with it. Inwardly I fumed. Looking back at our relationship over the years, I now wonder if she wasn't deliberately trying to stir up trouble between us. I had a similar conversation with his sister, and got a completely different response. His sister paused for a moment and then said 'Ya know, I hadn't thought of it that way - but you're right!' and to her credit she never gave him another beer/alcohol related gift ever again. Talking to his mom began to infuriate me though. She would 'commiserate' saying 'Oh he's so much nicer when he's not drunk, isn't he?' and then sigh and say 'Oh well, what can we do? He's been to treatment several times - it just never sticks.' My thoughts? KEEP FUCKING TRYING!!

At this point, I had only met his dad once. He didn't seem to be such a bad guy when I met him, but according to my sweetie he was quite the hard ass while my sweetie was growing up. I knew he'd side with me, but my sweetie would not be receptive to anything he had to say on the matter. No help there. And his aunt was a huge enabler - I had once told her he was doing pretty well at cutting back on his drinking and she said 'that's good!' and gave him a ride to the liquor store. This was the same woman who came to visit him when he got out of treatment the last time and brought a case of beer with her. Thanks for that you dumb bitch...

So now my sweetie was living with some of his drinking buddies and I was still looking for a new job. My mom had been talking me up to her boss and she must have said some really good things because suddenly out of the blue I got called in for an interview. She said he wanted to hire me and if I was anything like her, he wanted to make me a supervisor as well! I was stoked! No way was I going to blow this - I started my new job and was determined to be a model employee. Unfortunately my ambition was noticed by one of my new co-workers. She wanted to be promoted to the supervisor job and she felt she deserved it more than me because she had been there longer. I knew from talking to my mom that she wasn't even in the running - she had a bad attitude and had been written up for it several times in the past. Yet for some insane reason they made her my 'mentor'. It was her job to train me and since she already knew of my ambitions, she decided to train me badly. She gave me the wrong chemicals to use, and everything she showed me how to do - she made sure to show me the wrong way to do it. If I asked any questions at all, she looked at me like I was an idiot. This blew up in her face of course. When asked why I was using this chemical or that tool by the higher ups, I would simply reply that this is what 'bitchy co-worker' had instructed me to use. For her part she tried denying it and saying I was a liar - she showed me 'the right way' and I was just blowing her off and trying to make her look bad. I insisted that I was not a liar and since she had been disciplined on the job so many times before, they believed me. They assigned someone else to train me and there were no more problems. In fact, one morning I even heard my new mentor telling the big boss that things were going well - I was an awesome worker, I learned quick and did the job well.

Flash forward a few months and the big boss stopped me in the hall one night. He had been watching me and was impressed with my work ethic, there was a supervisor position coming available and he wanted me to apply for it! I immediately went and filled out the application. I would have to interview in front of a panel of 2 shift supervisors and the department supervisor. My mom would normally have been included in that group but since I was a relative she wasn't allowed this time. When the interview came around, I went in and did my best. I sat up straight, I answered all their questions the best I could. I had hoped that my past performance would also count in my favor. But when the decision was in, I learned I wasn't going to get the job. One shift supervisor liked me and voted yes, but the other supervisor and the department supervisor said 'no'. That's when I learned that the department supervisor didn't like my mom and was probably taking it out on me. The big boss liked my mom very much and for some reason that annoyed the department supervisor. She made up some bullshit excuse and said she didn't think I was ready for the position. The big boss called me into his office and said he really, really wanted to promote me but couldn't unless all 3 agreed. Since the department supervisor said I wasn't 'ready' he suggested I attend some of the management seminars over at human resources. They had a bunch of them - teamwork building, communication skills building, sensitivity training, emergency training, etc.. I went to every single one of them that they offered, and in the mean time I continued to get good marks on my performance reviews and even earned some commendation certificates for going above and beyond the call on my job. My mom and several of the other supervisors took me under their wings and coached me on what I should say if they asked me this or that question for next time I got a chance to interview. I could not have been more ready.

The guy who got the last opening I interviewed for was hired from outside and I was always catching him sleeping on the job. Seriously. Every night I'd find him napping somewhere. I just kept my mouth shut and did my job. It's a casino, there's cameras pretty much everywhere - I figured he'd get caught soon enough without my help. The next position to come available was because one of the supervisors was transferring to a different department and big boss told me he expected me to reapply. I went in to the second interview feeling more confident than I was for the first one. I was certain I had this in the bag. I was wrong. This time both of the shift supervisors voted yes, but again the department supervisor voted no. The big boss called me into his office and delivered the bad news. He also expressed confusion as to why the department supervisor had voted no again. I pointed out that I had taken all the available course he suggested and that the other 2 interviewers thought I would be good for the job. I also pointed out that my performance records were good and I had received commendations for my work so far... maybe the department supervisor was harboring some sort of personal grudge against me? He refused to believe that could be the problem and advised me to keep applying and interviewing. I'd had enough though - it was painfully clear to me that the department supervisor was not going to let me have the job no matter what I said or did - and big boss was never going to overrule her decision. So I applied for a job in a different department - security.

When I went in for the security interview, I was offered 2 options. I could take a regular security gig OR I could have a job on what they called the power shift. The interviewer really sold the power shift. She said it paid more money, and you were off as soon as the job was done for the day. She said they started at 3am and usually finished by 9am - but you get paid for 8 hours a day whether you work 6 hours or 10. Weird hours don't bother me and more money is always good, so I went with the power shift job. I really wish I hadn't.

While all this was happening, my sweetie had to move out of the place he was staying at and I reluctantly let him move back in. The owner of the house they were renting had decided to sell it so they had to leave - an empty house is easier to sell.

The power shift job was to follow the hard count crew around and watch them empty the money from the machines. It was the most mind numbing job I've ever had. Worse yet was the guy that was assigned to 'mentor' me. I was growing to hate that word. He made my first mentor, the bitchy co-worker, look like Miss Congeniality. So you might be thinking, "what training could you possibly need if your job is watching other people?" and that's a valid question. I'll just say cash collection at a casino is a really big fucking deal.

Every movement is watched by the security cameras. You can't move the cart or the crew without alerting the people monitoring the cameras via the radio, and when you do notify them that you're moving - you move at breakneck speed. So you have a few guards moving the locked cart rapidly to the section you're going to work on and in tow are half a dozen hard count guys followed closely by another half dozen guards carrying plastic chains. Yes. Plastic chains.

You arrive at the section you're going to empty and pray that no one is playing those machines. Those prayers are unanswered because there's always someone playing those machines. Alert the camera guys you've arrived at your destination. Now you have to announce loudly to everyone that you've come to empty the machines and they need to step away for a moment while we do that and then they can resume playing once we've finished. And they're always pissed off because they're certain, CERTAIN beyond a shadow of a doubt that if you empty the machine it won't hit the jackpot and they cuss you out for messing with their game. (Note: slot machines don't work like that kids. It's a fucking computer. Emptying the cash does not reset it and if you win "big" you always get payed off by a slot attendant - not $2000 in nickles. Get it? Now get the fuck out off the way of the poor slob whose job it is to empty this thing!) Once you get the players off the machines you must now rope off the area - that's where the chains come in. The hard count guys work like a NASCAR pit crew: a few of them quickly pull out all the chairs and the guards with the chains use them as posts to rope off the area. While all this has been happening the guards have opened the locked cart and another hard count guy runs around unlocking the cash boxes on the machines. Other hard count guys grab empty cash boxes of the cart and put one on each machine while a few more start pulling the full ones and put them on the cart. Then the guys who put out the empties plug them into the machines and they all get locked back up. Chains are lifted, chairs are replaced and the cart is locked. Call the camera guys, tell them you're moving (about 3 rows down), rinse and repeat.

The guy mentoring me was supposed to be teaching me what section was where and how far down to run the chains, where we're going next... and just like the bitchy coworker I dealt with in housekeeping, he acted like I was an idiot if I spoke at all. And I mean this was right out of the gate. I had just been introduced to him and all I said was 'hello' and he looked at me like I just kicked a puppy. Up on the casino floor he was a hundred times worse - he yelled at me because I didn't know the floor layout (Hey moron, I didn't work on the casino floor before and it's YOUR JOB to teach me!), he threw the chains at me and publicly berated me. The supervisor was his buddy and did nothing about it. He was just as nasty to me as my 'mentor'. I'm not fucking stupid, I learn new shit pretty quickly for the most part - but not when I'm being barked at or having shit flung at me! I also learned that there were a few things the interviewer hadn't told me before I took the job. Like we only got one break per day (whether you worked 6 hours or 10) and it was 4 hours into the shift. You also had to get someone to come and take your post if you needed to use the bathroom but thanks to my asshole mentor and supervisors nasty attitudes it was like pulling teeth to get a 'regular' guard to come relieve you. Apparently in the past, other power shift guards had simply walked off the job which left the poor relief guard stranded there until the shift was over. Power shift had a hard time keeping officers...I can't imagine why...

I tolerated this the best I could while I was at work, but I would sob in my car all the way home. I needed this fucking job - needed it! - I had to suck it up and deal with it somehow. My sweetie would try to console me, but it didn't change the fact that I had to go back there every night. I wasn't getting any help within the department - I had complained about the attitudes of my supervisor and my mentor to the higher-ups and got nowhere. There was practically a revolving door on this crew and they were refusing to see that the problem just might be the hostility from certain crew members. I asked to be moved to a regular security job and was told no. They said I had to wait 6 months before I could transfer. I was screwed.

Then one day, something slightly miraculous happened. We were up on the floor and my bitchy mentor was just being himself - he barked at me and flung the chains at me, hitting me in the face with them. And he did it in view of several customers who where aghast at what they saw. I didn't know it at the time, but a few of them went and filed formal complaints with the casino on my behalf about what they'd seen. Despite having just been hit in the face I tried to keep it together, but by that time I was ready to just quit this miserable job and let the chips fall where they may. My eyes were tearing and I couldn't stop them. I tried really hard to hide the fact that I was crying and I failed miserably. One of the regular security supervisors saw this and alerted the day shift administrator who promptly came and took me off the floor. In the office I sat and sobbed my way through the whole story and told the admin that I was simply going to quit if I wasn't transferred immediately - I was unwilling to tolerate this abuse even one minute longer. To my surprise, he transferred me that very day! He told me to go take a break and report to the day shift supervisor when I was done. Unfortunately he neglected to inform the power shift supervisor of this development. The day shift supervisor assigned me to a repair technician - all I had to do was follow him around and radio our location to the camera guys. While I was following him around, suddenly here's the power shift supervisor and he's furious. He immediately lit into me right there on the casino floor - yelling and ranting at me in front of customers and employees alike. I tried calmly explaining that I was being transferred and no longer under his supervision - he didn't want to hear it. He just kept yelling and told me 'my ass better be back on that cart in 5 minutes' and stormed off. The tech was finished with his work and didn't need a guard anymore, so I was dismissed. As I said earlier, I was unwilling to do the power shift any longer and if I had to go back there I was going to walk. I looked for the admin I spoke to, but couldn't find him - so I left, feeling defeated.

As it turns out, the tech that witnessed that last verbal assault went directly to human resources and filed a complaint too and I was quickly switched to the night shift - regular security. What a difference! As much as I hated the power shift - I loved the regular security detail! I have no idea if either of the jerks got in any kind of trouble, but quite frankly I didn't care as long as I didn't have to work with them anymore. I was often assigned floor detail and that meant I got to wander freely patrolling the halls and taking radio calls. I kept so busy that the shift would just fly by...it was heaven for me.

At home, my mood was better too. My sweetie was for the most part behaving himself - he was still drinking, but he hadn't gone off on a binge for over a month. I could deal with it as long as he wasn't being an out of control wreck, and we fought with each other less. I liked my job and started to feel like things might work out ok after all...

I Feel Fine

June 2010 was a stormy month here in Minnesota.

Looking back through the photos I have from this time, I have many pictures of my sweetie hanging out on the couch snuggling with our kitties and many pictures of beautiful flowers. There's also a few shots I snapped of the local radar on our tv - we had some pretty big storms roll through that month.

Early in the month, the two of us went to Anderson Iris gardens to look at the flowers. It's a private home north of the metro, and they grow (and sell) every color variety of Iris that you can imagine. My sweetie learned of the place from his mom - she goes out there and buys flowers from them every year, and when they arrived in the mail she'd call my sweetie over to plant them for her. In past years, she bought one or two of them for him to plant in our yard as well. This year he made a second trip out there to buy more iris's for our yard and brought me along to see them while they were still blooming. I used to think iris's only came in three colors - yellow, purple and white. Boy was I wrong. There were pink ones, orange ones, red ones. Striped iris, spotted iris, iris that smell like chocolate and root beer. I think I took at least a hundred pictures of them, and when we were done admiring the flowers my sweetie filled out an order form and bought at least a dozen different colors and varieties.

Back at home, we readied the spot in the yard where we intended to plant our new flowers.We took pictures of the robin that had built a nest on our downspout. We hung out on our back balcony and enjoyed the weather when it was nice. When the weather was bad, we hung out inside and he'd play his guitar or we'd watch tv together. My ancient computer fried, and he bought me a new one...

People we knew were always asking me how he was doing. Some were telling me not to get my hopes up to high, others asserted that hope and positive thinking could make all the difference. As for the two of us, we didn't like to talk about it. When we were home alone together, we continued to pretend that everything was ok.