10 October 2012

blame less


I didn't do it.


I inherited a ship of fools nearly two months ago. Just as personality clashes and mental tensions were becoming unbearable at the Ghetto Shack, I was offered a vaguely spelled-out store manager position at the Brigadoon Shack. Due to its proximity to my home and its distance from all sorts of malicious intent that were urging me postal, I decided to accept. Flight or fight mode was triggered, and I took the leap.

The highers knew I had put in for extended time off for my wedding and honeymoon when I said I'd give the captain's wheel a spin. The first couple weeks were a grand assessment and overhaul period. The longest there had survived the asshole control freak manager and the kickin' back playing games on his phone manager, so my vibe was something new. They were not used to someone who actually worked, got things done, and expected them to as well. But they also were putting up their fight against change.

I left the store like a teacher would leave the place for a substitute teacher, with detailed assignments and expectations. It was a gamble. And unfortunately the dependability of the whole crew as well as the local managers I asked to oversee can easily be questioned. When I arrived back, it barely looked like I had been there in the first place. I checked in with everyone about their progress through their tasks - that they never signed off on, despite my clarity - and fault was thrown around every which way.

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