Sometimes You Have To Get Out of the Bubble

I spent what would be my final month at the resort in conflict. The abusive supervisor used his iron fist. I just wanted to do my job and assist the guests who were always appreciative.

He verbally attacked me in private and I was supposed to be friendly in public. Things got so bad I had to go to Human Resources. You cannot prove favoritism. You know it when you are being singled out.

Rules apply to everyone or no one. I had a support system. There were roughly two hundred employees I knew pretty well. The bartenders had to deal with the same abusive supervisor. They understood.

At a certain point I did not want to talk about it anymore. It felt like Lenny Bruce trying to write material when he was constantly in court for obscenity. The language that almost every comedian now uses.

At least I didn't end up naked over a toilet with a needle in my arm. I compared that job to heroin. At times there were things more beautiful than you could imagine. That supervisor was the living manifestation of withdrawal.

Just say no. Rather than spinning the wheels with Ted the bartender I decided to call a colleague from my previous job. We started together and I helped her move. She was a grandmother and seemed too young to joke about "Senior moments".

People of all ages forget things. Anyway, Barbara had no idea that I was under siege. We talked about the old job which I left before they moved to a smaller office after Chapter 11 bankruptcy.

We did not talk about work. Her granddaughter did not smile in pictures. In general I don't and my sister has called me on the carpet for that. The conversation went well. It was nice catching up.

Better yet, I did not think of the abuse. It was amazing how nice the job was when he wasn't around. People were engaging, I could find my way and help out. When the iron fist lowered the boom- this was an abusive relationship. His anger and screaming did nothing to improve my performance.

Gone and forgotten. I have had a handful of abusive supervisors, including my father. One abuser who makes physical threats is too many. My position was eliminated after the peak season. They decided they only needed two barbacks. The younger one was probably easier to groom.

The end of that job felt like cancer. There was so much good in the position. I am still in contact with as many as I could find on social media. Strangely, the bartenders don't have profiles. They were great to work with. Everyone was great except my direct supervisor. He flipped another supervisor who was nice on her own or with friendly supervisors. That was my Stage Four and that position did not last. One bad apple spoils the whole bunch. When that bad apple makes the schedule and gives me as few shifts as possible- remember what was good about the position.