The first time I was fired was today. Approximately just under two hours ago. They made it seem, on the surface, really pretty. Instead of 'fired' the term they chose to use was 'letting me go'. It was as if they were trying to create some sense of freedom that came hand in hand with my new found unemployment. I suppose that's all part of the mantra though, isn't it? The idea of nothing ever being negative, ever. Even if it is your only source of reliable income.
It was all done very 'nicely'; like a small performance put on for all the departments on the shop floor. My manager came in, told me 'well done' for having beaten our Sunday target of £400 by selling well over £500 worth of stuff, and waited until the shop floor was clear of customers before declaring the ever-ominous 'I have some bad news'. She explained I'd upset the people upstairs, and that people on the shop floor were unhappy. Seems funny that today I was told by customers on four separate occasions that I was a wonderful young woman, with a delightful manner and smile. I'd be told thank you around 20 times. It was only three O'Clock in the afternoon. But, of course, the customer is always right. And that's why I was being fired; because the customers loved me, but the shop assistants didn't.
Bitter? Maybe. Maybe this does reek of bitterness. But, to be honest, I was fired for the first time ever only two hours ago. You're all lucky this page doesn't just read; 'FUCKING C**T OFF'
xxx
