High School Redux at Age 57!

Working with women is the worst.

And I’ll take the worst male boss over the worst female boss — and I’ve been on both sides of that fence — any day of the week! 

Men at their worst are cruel and brutal. Women at their worst are vicious. You ever listen to and watch two felines fighting? It’s UGLY. And the sounds are unreal. They don’t call ’em cat fights (between females) for nuthin’.

My job is High School Redux. The entire housekeeping staff is comprised of females ranging in age from early 20s to late 50s — with the vast majority in their 20s. They’re young, immature and self-involved  — can’t really hold that against ’em.

They’re also backstabbing, judgmental and gossipy.

Oh. The. Gossip!

Now, I don’t play. I go to work. I do my job. I go home. I don’t hang around with the core group of girls today any more than I did in high school and for the same reasons: I’m not them.

I don’t like gossiping, backstabbing and petty small-mindedness and the petty sniveling criticisms of others — ESPECIALLY OTHER WOMEN — that females engage in. At any and every age. I steer clear of it. It doesn’t interest me. It doesn’t excite me. Engage my interest or intelligence.

That, however, doesn’t stop others from talking smack about me behind my back. I know they do. I feel it when I walk into the room where core members of the clique are yakking away. I feel it in the way they look at me. I see it in some of their eyes.

Girls have a meanness that’s hurtful. Mean Girls. Just like the movie title.

Anyhow, it’s a very negative and toxic environment, my workplace. Thankfully the supervisor’s a cool chick and has never treated me with anything other than friendliness and respect. Definitely can’t say the same for a good number of the others.

As if the hotel housekeeping work itself weren’t physically demanding and exhausting enough … I’ve also got this assault of negativity directed my way by my workmates (“mates”). Fuck.

It’s hurtful and there’s not a damn thing to be done about it except ignore the judgments and Girl Shit the best I can and continue doing the very best job that I can.

Today I discovered something that illustrates why I go to craigslist and other job sites every day.

For reasons unknown to me, the supervisor writes the average time it takes each girl to clean a room up on the big white board in the common room. We’re timed in our rooms, you see, and 30 for each is the rule. It’s a stupid rule because there are so many variables in each full clean and stayover. (We’re not robots but the Big Hotel Man seems to think we are!)

I’m at the bottom of the list. No surprise because I’m very attentive to detail and methodical. Plus I’ve got about 30 years on most of my coworkers!

Also posted on the board is the number of callbacks — errors or oversights we made that we’re called back to a room to correct. My callbacks number is very low — 2. (In fact, I didn’t even know I had any callbacks since I wasn’t called back to fix anything but what the hell.)

The girls talk smack about me and my slower times behind my back. Today I noticed that someone had added digits to my posted numbers … turning my 48 minutes into 1 hour and 48 minutes … and my callbacks of 2 into 202.

Now, part of me was amused. And another part took it badly, recognizing it as the attack that it was. The Mean Girls’ attack.

I’m ready to quit this job the moment a new one is offered (and again, I am looking big time!!!!!). That it’s so physically taxing plus harmful to some major health issues guarantee a short-lived span.

The Mean Girls are only adding to the impetus and the NEED to go soon as a new door opens.

I Mean It. 🙂 

 

 

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