TRIGGER WARNING CONTENT: I Lost 2 Jobs In September 2015 (The same month!)

TRIGGER WARNING CONTENT: I Lost 2 Jobs In September 2015 (The same month!)

SECOND JOB IN JULY 2015 

I needed a second job while working at Dollar General to earn extra money, you know? Right? So, on a midday day in the middle of July 2015, I headed to the Scottrade Trade Stadium across from the City Hall in downtown Saint Louis. After I submitted my resume to Chris, the white interviewer, I politely advised him that I’d need a sign language interpreter to participate in a training program. As he wrote, Chris responded to me in a white notebook, saying he was hesitant to consider providing an interpreter for me. Chris said he would check in with his manager first to ensure he got permission. I was like… OKAY…

While working at Dollar General, I waited for one week, but when the second week arrived after Sunday, I had to use my video phone interpreter to call Chris on Monday. Hasn’t heard from him since then.

VISITING MS. BURCH

Impulsively, I brought my concerns to my former case manager, Linda Burch, about Scottrade Center Stadium’s career field day. Ms. Burch motherly scolded me for worrying too much. She was more sisterly up-front with me, ordering me to stop leaving so many voicemails on Chris’ phone.

Shawn: “Ah, I see. No one told me like that before, and you’re the first person telling me to leave it at one time. I didn’t think it would be a problem with two or three voicemails, but now I see the bigger picture.”  

Ms. Burch: “Well, now, you know. Next time, you should wait at least in two weeks, but if you don’t get called after the second week, then you can call after the third. But it had to be one time in a day, not two or three in the same day. Okay?” 

Shawn: “Yeah, but no one bothers help me, not even my family. I thought I had figured it all out. I mean, why did I have to go through this alone? I felt like everyone left me in the dark.  All I know is that I’m responsible for my own life if I wanted to get a second job. That is all that I know, and doing alone isn’t always successful for me, just sayin’.” 

Ms. Burch: “Oh, okay… I’m sorry that you didn’t have the proper tools to handle alone.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner when you were my trainee in this program before you got hired at Dollar General. I thought you knew what to do on your own, and we do normally help people, but if or when is looking for the second job, you would have to do it on your own. We want everyone to learn independently. You did a good job on your own, though. You should be proud of yourself for that. Don’t give up, keep trying, maybe, you’d notice something you like.” 

Even though I was NEVER hired at Scottrade Center to work as a janitor, and took me too long to realize that I shouldn’t have sent too many voicemails in a single day. Oh, well! There goes my life.

I Temporarily livED with mAMA.

The first week of August 2015 was when I already turned twenty-third on the Eighth day. However, I temporarily lived with my mother in Riverview, Missouri, during the last week of August. It didn’t last that long. I chose to stay with my mother because I could not pay my electricity and gas bills in my own apartment with so little money from one job. I became so procrastinated and lazy. So, I visited my mother for the whole month of August while my utilities were turned off due to the insufficient wages I got from the job. I was unable to watch TV or use the Internet, and I failed to take a shower in hot water. Every time I started complaining to Brittany about the little money I made from the same job I worked, she wouldn’t let me work any more extra after 1 PM. I still had to go home at 1 PM, so I earned less in the morning. According to the religious convictions of my previous supervisor, who later terminated me on September 15th, she would only allow me to work additional hours if I claimed to be homophobic, straight, and ultimately, married to a Christian woman with biological children.

A photo of my apartment

I had a hard time paying the rent on my apartment on Folsom Avenue. I almost always got late every month in that year alone. While we’re on the subject of irony, I was also confronted with a piece of unexpected and unforeseen news concerning my rent from another agency that had previously owned my apartment: Efthim Company Realtors. But now, it’s Deca Realty Company that purchased my apartment, so these new landlords required me to go through the same process of signing my name on a new term of the lease again. I couldn’t believe how much I went through my awkward experience with the new landlord, which was a bit too surreal for me then.

I didn’t have the luxury of taking the time to think about what was going on with the rent back then.

My family NEVER helps me pay my own rent because they absolutely want me to live independently, which I didn’t enjoy doing on my own. As a result, I ended up staying at my mother’s home in Riverview because I asked to access the Internet and to re-wash my smelly clothes in the basement (that’s where the laundry machine is). I’d NEVER planned to live with my mother indefinitely at 10045 McCartney Lane, but my stay was intended to be only a temporary arrangement. I moved in with her in the last week of August 2015 until the middle of November, which was two months.

RACE TRAITOR from The NEXT DOOR

A screenshot of the front yard. Address: 10049 McCartney Lane, Saint Louis, Missouri 63137

A screenshot of the front yard. Address: 10049 McCartney Lane, Saint Louis, Missouri 63137

One of my mother’s next-door neighbors happened to be a black male felon named Thomas Johnson, who is hard of hearing and used TOTAL COMMUNICATION in sign language when he was around me. Mr. Johnson also lives with his “mama” and his CODA son, which explains why he lived next to my mother on the same street. He’s 13 years older than I. He speaks entirely too much with his mouth and tongue yapping away, so I sometimes had to read his lips. He NEVER used facial expressions as the rest of ASL users do due to his limited percentage of hearing ability, but he’s speaking fluently better than I do. He seems to think of himself as my role model, but I NEVER thought of him that way. No, I didn’t want to look up to him as a role model because I sometimes found him a bit delusional. The toxic relationship between him and I had lasted since 2007. We are NEVER as close as so-called homies because of his poisonous virility that intimidated me. He loves to spit poison at those he despises and wouldn’t shut up.

Workhouse Prison. A screenshot of the front building. Address: 7600 Hall, Saint Louis, Missouri 63147

Workhouse Prison. A screenshot of the front building. Address: 7600 Hall, Saint Louis, Missouri 63147

For example, Tom would speak for never-ending hours about how he survived in Workhouse Prison while surrounded by dangerous, violent inmates. That’s all he was only interested in talking about, but I told him many times I didn’t need any more details from him.

I found his story too much depressing for me.

In the last week of August 2015, Mr. Johnson acted like a really nice neighbor right now. He always preached about “Respect your mama!” I was FORCED to see him next door whenever he wanted, even though he had had issues with me since 2007.

OFFERING ME A JOB

Mr. Johnson asked me whether I had taken a job. I told him yes, and currently working at Dollar General. Then he started lecturing me on how much I needed to take care of my mother’s house, which included mowing grass in the front yard and the backyard, as a man of the house. Mr. Johnson was really annoying to have such high expectations for me. He takes pleasure in bossing me around as if I were his younger brother, expecting me to obey every other command he asks. In other words, if I want to gain the favor of my “mama,” I should help her the same way she helps me.

Eventually, at that point, Mr. Johnson mentioned the Elite Staffing warehouse in Edwardsville, IL. He said that it was a full-time job. I accepted his offer of employment with him.

The first thing I told my mother at her house was about The Elite Staffing. She was delighted to hear that I proposed to her to take on a second job. Despite NOT having access to a vehicle and NOT knowing how to drive, I had a minimal understanding of driving techniques. NOT a single family member has ever taught me how to drive. 

My elderly-aged cousins, aunts, and uncles would say, “I didn’t give birth to you, so why should I help you? It’s your mom’s responsibility to teach you to drive, not my job!” 

My mother struggled to communicate with me in the very inferior version of sign language during the driving sessions. She was pretty much worried that I might destroy her car. As a result, I allowed her to give me a free ride to Granite City the next day, where we found for the first time was at the small office of The Elite Staffing, located in the shopping plaza. That wasn’t that far away from the K-Mart store.

My mother and I walked in from indoors and filled out applications for that position at the warehouse. I politely handed my resume to one of the recruiters, but they didn’t want to see it. Then one of the recruiters said we both got hired without a formal interview! 

Yay! We thanked them and returned home HAPPILY! 

Shawn: “Wow! That was pretty fast, right? I didn’t start working in Missouri for two weeks, but it’s the fastest recruitment experience I’ve ever had in my life!”

Kim: “Yeah, I know! You should be happy now. Now just so you know, I have two jobs now. You don’t have to worry about paying bills.”  

We returned home to share “good news” with Mr. Johnson and thanked him. From then on, I thought we would finally get along, NO more angry lectures.

At Dollar General (on Manchester Avenue in Saint Louis, Missouri), I bragged to my supervisor about getting a second job after being hired to work at Elite Staffing. She pretends to be completely surprised, but she NEVER really cared about my personal business.

All she did say was, “Alright… Hmm… Good for you. Let’s get to work now!

 Shawn: “Wait!” (Writing down the notes)

Mr. Owens: “I’m prepared to show flexibility in my schedule with you. Elite Staffing told me I could work on Tuesday and Wednesday. I’m available to work here on Mondays and Thursday mornings.”

 Brittany Blake: “Whatever you say, dude.”

She constantly ignores me at work and has been ignoring me since March 2015.

I GOT FIRED AT ELITE STAFFING

 I only worked at Elite Staffing for four days on the first and second week. On the second day of working, I was with my mother packing DOVE shampoos in brown cardboard boxes all day. I noticed my mother didn’t get along verbally with other employees who were rude to her, taunting her for having a deaf son or whatever it was about. We both ignored everyone, but we previously worked with a deaf black man in his 50s named Melton Jerry, who claimed to have worked longer than I had met.  

At the end of the second day, my mother gave Mr. Johnson a free lift with her son. In the back of the car, I’d seen him complaining in sign language about another deaf black guy at Elite Staffing.

Of course, Mr. Johnson talked shit behind that Melton Jerry’s back! 

In the second week of September 2015, I did NOT get along really well with several other employees who made fun of me for being deaf. I did my best job of ignoring those while working with teammates. At one point, I opened up the boxes, then put numbers of DOVE-branded shampoo bottles in them all day long. I was working really hard.  

Mr. Johnson jokingly told me that he stole DOVE shampoos and said he would do it again because it was a piece of cake for him. He NEVER got fired for stealing shampoos. NO ONE bothers to report him. 

On the Tuesday morning of September 8th (3 AM), I took a very brief shower in my mama’s shitty house. After that, I forgot to put on armpit deodorant to ensure I didn’t get sweaty and stinky. Kim yelled at me to hurry and finish my shower because I found out Mr. Johnson had gotten ready to join them in going to work.

I had already dressed for work, hurrying to get into Kim’s car. Mr. Johnson insisted on telling us that we had to be in Edwardsville on time. When we arrived at the parking lot in front of the Elite Staffing warehouse, we walked behind the hundreds of non-familiar employees to register names and take cards for the work. 

We didn’t start to work until 5:30 AM, but Mr. Johnson did NOT want to team up with Kim and me when we began to work. He wanted to work next to his white girlfriend in different groups somewhere. The Elite Staffing warehouse is similar to the NFL stadium, where everybody works separately on the same floor but works together as a team in a group of people that anyone feels comfortable with. On the far right side of the same building I’m in, I follow Mrs. Poe everywhere she goes because she can communicate with non-deaf employees.

She had to show me how I did my job correctly after showing me instructions on what to do with the small-sized boxes behind the operating machines that look like cash registers. It’s next to a flat, black treadmill. Containers of shampoos on the warehousing treadmill go directly to shipping trucks.  

I had to work with some guy I didn’t like, and that man was NOT very nice NOR communicating with me. He wouldn’t dare to take a gander at me in the face, treating me like a freak! Then he went to talk to his boss about something I couldn’t hear, then the boss came to my mama.

Suddenly, Kim came to get me out of the working group, telling me to go home. I FAILED to understand what was happening at the time because my mama didn’t want to tell me that in front of employees. 

Mrs. Poe: “DA, you have to go home.” 

Shawn: “Huh? Why? What did I do?”

Mrs. Poe: “I’ll tell you outside, but not here.” 

I followed her to walk along the white lines without being across them due to forklift drivers going around us. It could be pretty dangerous for deaf people to work in a warehouse because I can’t hear where I go. I had to walk behind the white line to find an exit. We also had to avoid machinations that could damage people’s eyes. Eventually, Kim and I arrived at the large break room with walls of footlockers, but before going there, I decided to stop walking any further, waiting for Kim to turn around.  

Shawn: “Mom, what’s it? Tell me now.”

Mrs. Poe: No, not here. I can’t.” 

Shawn: “No! I ain’t move my ass till you tell me why!” 

My lungs were frustrated because I knew something was wrong at work, but my sanity was starting to slip away from me. 

Shawn: “C’mon, mom! Tell me! Maybe I can fix the mistake!”

Kim sighed deeply into her frustration, looking around to check for surroundings, then telling me in our homemade sign language instead of ASL.

She pointed it to her nose while signing: “You smell. Your armpits. They smell you.” 

Shawn: “That’s bullshit! I took a shower this morning!” 

Mrs. Poe: “You should have used deodorants before coming here.” 

Shawn: “Mama, how can you say that?! My mind was freakin’ doped! I wasn’t even able to think at 3 AM! I had so many things in mind at the same time! I ain’t no multitasking! You told me to hurry up! What should I do? Ignore you? No! I got in the damn car! I did not have the time to get the damn deodorant! Next time you don’t dare hurry me like that!”

I realized at that point I had enough of this bullshit, so I decided to make an obscene scene in front of everybody. I flipped out a middle finger directly at everybody, then entered the break room.  I was screaming loudly like a wild animal at the top of my lungs and came to take my lunch bag to go home. Everybody heard me slamming the door. I left her standing behind in shame. It was the most humiliating day of my life. I got out into the parking lot of cars. 

Within 15 minutes, she left the building in the rainy outdoors, finding me standing next to her car. I’m the one without car keys.

Mrs. Poe: “Da’Shawn! What the fuck was that for?! Why did you scream like that?”

 Shawn: “Ha! They deserve it! Fuck ‘em all! I’m so fuckin’ sick of people treating me like a nutjob! And for what?! Brittany gave me a hard time at Dollar General! Now, this, and you!” 

Mrs. Poe: “Your boss just told me you just got your nigga ass fired! You are so fired. You should never have done that. He told me that I have to go home with you.” 

Shawn: “Oh? Does that imply you are fired, too?” 

Mrs. Poe: “Me? Fuck you, no! Certainly not me! I told our boss that you don’t know how to drive a car! Who the fuck do you think is driving? Me! I’m the only one who can drive.”

On the way home, I got so quiet in my heartbreak, then broke the silence using my hands to sign.

Shawn: “You know, the funniest thing is, when I did that… I was supposed to cry my eyes out after leaving the building outside, but instead, I found myself laughing in the rain. I looked like a laughing fool in the rain, but I needed it. I felt like I don’t need to be ashamed of it anymore. I’m not afraid of what people think of me. Fuck ‘em all! They don’t know anything shit! They have no idea what I’ve been through anyway!” 

She listens to me sounding off. 

Mrs. Poe: “Don’t worry. I’ll help you get another job, but you can’t do that ever again, you understand me? No matter how frustrated you think you are, you can’t do that.” 

Shawn: “Like hell I care, momma.”

Mrs. Poe: “Yes, you should care because this was your last chance, and you blew it!” 

I was glad I didn’t have to go back to that shitty warehouse because everybody in that building behaved like the Hunger Games Characters, where we competed to hurt each other over stupidity. Everybody argued over taking teams as in who is who, partnering up with gangs, thugs, or whores so they could work together. It felt like a high school clique ALL OVER AGAIN! It doesn’t feel like professional teamwork.

MR. JOHNSON WAS PISSED AT ME WHEN HE FOUND OUT

One week later, on September 11th, Kim helplessly told me that Mr. Johnson wanted to have “a man-to man talk” with me from the next door. 

Shawn: “I knew it, he would say that! I ain’t gonna be surprised! I don’t feel like talking to him! He ain’t my fuckin’ daddy! Mom, you never slept with him anyway! He has his girlfriend with him now. If he wants to argue with me about my behavior, why doesn’t he talk to his goddamn son!”

Mrs. Poe: “You need to talk to him. Maybe he could help.” 

Shawn: “Help me? Aren’t you kidding me! I’ve known him since 2007. You haven’t seen how manipulative he is around me. You let him play mind games with you along the years! He’s taking advantage of you. He always asks for a free ride, but he never pays you back!” 

My mama NEVER once paid attention to how many times I’ve told her because she only heard half of my rants. I helplessly rolled my eyes as I exited the front door.

I saw Mr. Johnson in his mama’s house, and he just let me enter. I didn’t want to sit down but rather stand because I was ready to return home.

Mr. Johnson: “I just want to know why did you use the middle-finger in front of everybody, you were screaming loudly, like a crazy motherfucker! I want you to tell me what makes you so tick?” 

I rolled my eyes and then challenged him: “Do you genuinely want to know? I don’t feel like talking about it. It is over now.” 

Mr. Johnson: “Maybe I can help report the situation. I can talk to our boss. I’m still working there. I can work out this problem. Maybe you can take your job back.” 

Shawn: “Ok, here I go. I got stink, ok? I forgot my deodorants. I told my boss I took a shower in the morning. But what happens? Two or three men gave me a hard time. They never helped me on the job. I was left alone on my own. They think they can boss me around like a stupid dog. They whisper behind my back. They kept avoiding my face when I work next to them. If they have problems with me, they should talk to me, not my mamma! She ain’t the certified interpreter and you knew it! Her sign language is fucked up. Only 30 percent of her ASL is half-assed understanding!  But you? You are not really deaf. You never have problems communicating with her or anybody. You can talk on the phone, but I can’t, ok? That is why I was angry because my boss didn’t want to understand me. We were supposed to be good teamwork.”

Mr. Johnson: “You could’ve handled this differently. You could’ve come to me. I would’ve been there!” 

Shawn: She didn’t want to tell me why I had to go home. I made her telling me in front of stupid men. I want to look at them directly in the eyes. She didn’t want to see me getting mad. She wanted to talk to me privately outside of work, but I refused.” 

Mr. Johnson: “She was right for trying to protect you from being stupid. But now, it is on you! You made her look bad. Now, everyone thinks she is a shitty mom! I helped you get the job! Is that how you repay me, huh?!” 

Shawn: “Fuck you! You don’t know anything shit about me!” 

Mr. Johnson: “Watch your damn mouth! Who you think you talking to? This is my house!” 

Mr. Johnson walks towards me, looming above me. His face was so damn close to mine.  I could smell the disgusting tobacco and alcohol from his foul mouth. Mr. Johnson raises his fist to prove he had more power over me.  He was proceeding to hit me or break the bridge of my nose as he was tempted to.

Mr. Johnson: “Get the fuck outta my house! I’ma done arguin’.” 

Then Melton Jerry had shown up at Mr. Johnson’s house out of the blue. I was taken aback to see the same man from the Elite Staffing. I got confused because Mr. Johnson always complained about him.  Now, Mr. Johnson is smilingly happy to see him. What the Hell is going on between them?

Maybe, Mr. Johnson is a fake friend when he’s around him.

Mr. Johnson complained to his fake friend: “Hey! Guess what? This nigga muthfucka just got fired from Elite Staffing. What a nigga!”

Melton Jerry: “What? What did he do wrong at Elite Staffing?”

Mr. Johnson told him everything.

Melton Jerry: “What’s wrong with you, nigga boy?!”

They all stood on the front porch as Mr. Johnson and his friend laughed and joked at me. 

Shawn: “Did you know your fake friend Thomas talk shit about you at work?”

Melton Jerry: “You fool! You can’t stop me being friends with Thomas! You got jealous because he has his girlfriend. You have no girlfriend. That’s why no one likes you.”

Mr. Johnson thought it was too funny, and he laughed.

I angrily went into the basement and came out on the front porch only three minutes later, carrying a snow shovel in my hands. Mr. Johnson and Melton Jerry turn their heads toward me. 

Shawn: “You better watch what you say.”

I’ve NEVER threatened Mr. Johnson before, but I got tired of his bullying. Mr. Johnson became afraid of him once he saw a snow shovel and ran inside the house to get a baseball bat. He walks towards him with it, lifting it above my head in the front yard.

Melton Jerry: Thomas, you better call the cops on his nigga ass!” 

Mr. Johnson sighed and changed his mind and put it away. 

Shawn: “Coward! You don’t want to go back to jail again!” 

Rolling eyes away at them, walking back into the house. Mr. Johnson wouldn’t help me to find a job ever again. He said he regretted helping me in the first place. Yeah, whatever!

KIM’S BACKYARD BASEMENT LATE AFTERNOON (9/15/2015)

The back of my childhood house. Basement.

The back of my childhood house. Basement.

I got angry at Thomas Johnson Sr. Because I didn’t like how he tried to exploit my mother’s personal items: the lawnmower machine in her backyard basement. I walked downstairs to stop him from borrowing it.

23-YEAR-OLD SHAWN (To Mr. Johnson): YOU CAN’T BORROW NO MORE! GET OUT NOW!

I knew that I NEVER had any fighting skills in my physique against the ex-convict, and he would’ve won the fight by knocking me out unconscious or worse! 

SHAWN (In ASL): GET THE FUCK OFF MY MAMA’S HOUSE! YO NIGGA DON’T BELONG HERE NO MORE!

SHAWN (CONT’D): YO THREATENED ME WITH A BASEBALL BAT LAST WEEK! 

MR. JOHNSON (To Shawn): SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHE SAID I CAN BORROW WHATEVER I WANTED! YOU DON’T PAY HER FUCKIN’ BILLS ANYWAY! 

He was about to take the lawnmower machine from me, so I had to push him out with my hands. Aggressively, I pulled the machine away from him. Mr. Johnson was about to give me the black eye, though. My mother tried cutting the fight off between the two of us niggas. Mr. Johnson thought he had the opportunity to beat me up, but he was surprised to see me pulling two knives out of my pocket. 

SHAWN (Pointing the knives at him): NOW, YO MOTHERFUCKER!

Mr. Johnson realizes this fight wasn’t even worth it, deciding to walk away from me. 

MR. JOHNSON (To Kim): I’M CALLIN’ COPS ON HIS NIGGA ASS! 

KIM (To her son): Da’Shawn! He’s just gonna call the cops! Drop the knife now! Why did you do that?!

SHAWN (To Kim): You know why! I told you I don’t like him! He threatened me with the baseball bat last Friday! 

SHAWN (CONT’D): He got mad that I got fired! What should do, I do, huh?!

KIM: You could have called the cops about that! 

SHAWN: No, I know you don’t believe me if I did! Now, you see the problem we got here!

KIM (yelling loudly at him): DROP THE DAMN KNIFE! YOU’VE HAD BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH, BOY!

KIM (CONT’D): If the cops see you carrying a knife, they gonna shoot your ass! 

(CONTD): Put it away! NOW!

Wordlessly, I went back into the house to the kitchen. I walked upstairs and returned a pair of kitchen knives to the top right drawer.

Two white male cops arrived on our neighborhood street about ten minutes later. I came out of the basement, following my mother into the driveway. I watched Mr. Johnson ranting them off at the sides of the road nearby Kim’s house.

Kim: “Do not show them your face like that. They don’t care how mad you are. They’ll think you are dangerous. Fix your face now! Act normal!” 

Two cops walked toward me in the front yard, and my mother followed up with them. Kim had NEVER been a certified interpreter herself. She wanted to help bridge the communication between them and me, so it made her an eyewitness to the police.

#1 COP: “Is that true you threaten him with a pair of knives?” 

Shawn: “Mr. Johnson threatened me with a baseball bat last week. I got fired from the same job where he worked. He got so mad at me because he said I embarrassed him. We got in some verbal altercation. Now, he wants to punish me for it.” 

The problem is I don’t trust my mother as a personal interpreter because she kept messing it up for me. She is so terrible at interpreting. I asked two white cops to give me a notepad and a pen so that I could speak for myself. One of the cops did give it to me out of the shirt pocket.

#2 COP: “I think you two guys better off not talking to each other. It is time for you to draw the line. You do not come to his house.  He better not come to you.”

Mr. Owens: “Well, tell him that he cannot touch my mother’s stuff. He did not pay her bills. He acts like a womanizer. He had his girlfriend. He could ask favors from her, which I don’t care!”

#1 COP: “Next time if Mr. Johnson threatens you, you give us a call, ok?” 

I nodded at them as I silently agreed, and then the cops left and went away. I never spoke to Mr. Johnson ever again.

GOT FIRED AT DOLLAR GENERAL THE NEXT DAY

On September 17, 2015, I went alone to Dollar General with Mrs. Blake. I was the only employee at 7 AM to overwork all the five silver u-carts from the backroom. I didn’t understand why I had to work alone in the early morning when all staff started working at 8 AM. Why me at 7 AM? I already had a bad day with my neighbor and my job.

I was busily checking for “overstocked” items from many months ago that had been abandoned too long in the backroom. I had to put away capital letters, for instance, MAG, LEB, or BEI, on the lower-sized u-carts. My supervisor continually criticized me for remembering where I should put the u-carts in the right place. 

Brittany Blake: “Hurry up! You are so damn slow!” 

It was only 15 minutes after 7 AM. 

I didn’t feel slow, but I stopped listening to her this time. I was doing it my way and didn’t want to obey her anymore. I felt the courage to start protesting against her orders because I wasn’t afraid anymore. I don’t believe that I had to finish all of the u-carts every other 45 minutes, which was totally impossible for me in the morning shift. I wanted to take my time before I could put the wrong item on the u-cart. I threw away the empty cardboards out of the silver 6-foot-tall caged u-carts with the skating rollers, which are skater aids. Brittany hates seeing the empty cardboards on the floor for the thousandth time after removing the shopping items on the aisle shelves. She wants all of the empty cardboard boxes to be put back in the same u-cart where I first took them, but I still refused to do so. I told her I wanted to fold the cardboard boxes before putting them back in the u-carts. 

I wanted to do it my way because I felt it was too much of a multitasking duty. It might be easier for Brittany to figure out how to do it herself, but I don’t necessarily see the same solution that she does. I organize my duties alone. Believe it or not, I’ve already tried her ways so many times, but it didn’t work out for me. I wanted to do it my way because I thought it would be much easier or faster if I disobeyed her. 

Then, I suddenly had this idea as it first popped into my head. I thought, “Why don’t I get more u-carts?” So, that’s what I did. I walked into the back room as I brought out more u-carts to the sales floor, but my supervisor said I could only have two u-carts on the sales floor. I wasn’t allowed to bring too many u-carts. 

This time, I took an empty u-cart to the sides of the bathroom aisle on the sales floor not too far from the backroom. I started working at the bathroom aisle full of toilet papers on three or four shelves. I now came back to the bathroom aisle area.

I wanted to keep three or four caged u-carts beside my presence where I could see them. It is easier for me to finish them first, rather than walking back and forth between the backroom and the sales floor. I know what I was doing anyway! My boss gotta trust me, but she didn’t!

I was trying to hurry up as much as possible, but when I finished folding up the empty cardboard boxes. I carried those boxes with me on my way to the gift card aisle area. I didn’t see the empty u-cart there anymore. It was GONE because it was there before! My boss moved it! She put it in the back room, I knew I had to go back to the backroom again, but I didn’t find it. She moved it somewhere behind the other u-carts on the sales floor. 

My instincts kept telling me that my boss set me up to get in trouble with her for nothing. I just knew that she did this on purpose. But I don’t understand why I would have to come down here at 7 AM to work alone. 

Brittany walked through one of the aisles and saw me walking around.

Brittany: “You’re always slow! Hurry up! You are wasting your time!”

At one point, I had enough of her bullshit! I decided he wouldn’t listen to her anymore.

I angrily wrote in the notepad, which I told her: “Where is the trash u-cart? Where is it?!”

Brittany refused to read my handwriting. She was pointing her index finger at the bathroom aisle. She wanted me to return to where I worked previously because she never trusts me to do something behind her back. I tried using my voice and mouth to speak with her, but I knew she wouldn’t try to understand me.

Shawn: “I need it back now!”

My boss shut me out and didn’t want to hear it from me. 

Brittany (With a bitchy facial expression): “Go back to your work!”

She turned away from me, but I wasn’t finished with her. I leaped right in front of her while she walked away from me. My angry gestures were in her face instead of using sign language. It was more of body language like a Mimi artist. 

Brittany (with a yell): “You go home! You are done!”

Shawn (yelling back): “WHERE IS THE DAMN U-CART?!”

Honestly, this is complete bullshit! Who did it all in 45 minutes? It’s impossible to finish everything within 45 minutes. I NEVER see Stephanie doing it. I NEVER see anybody doing it. I was the only one who did everything for my boss. Why didn’t she make the same demands out of Stephanie, Sharon, or others?! She kept using me as a punching bag! She wanted me to do everyone’s jobs! The only person who gets heavily criticized is me! Why pick on me anyway?! Is it because she had a deaf cousin that she didn’t like?! If she does have a problem with her cousin, then leave me out of it! 

Shawn (yelling loudly in sign language): “Bitch! Fake ass Christian bitch!”

Brittany gasps before snarling: “Get the fuck out now!”

Shawn (sign language): “Well, you hurt my feelings first! You started it! You fuckin’ audist!”

Of course not, Brittany had no idea what ran off my mouth, but she knew I got mad at her. Brittany walked so fast as she was coming to the front entrance of Dollar General. She was then at the cashier’s place. She picks the phone up to her ear. Before she could call the cops, I didn’t want to go through it again with the same cops that Mr. Johnson called on me. I ran to her and pulled it out of her hand.

Brittany (gasps loudly): “Don’t touch me! You fuckin’ scratch my hand! You scratched me!” 

She keeps the phone out of my reach.

Shawn: “WHAT?!”

I looked at her hand; there were no visible signs of bleeding cuts. It was just dry white marks; maybe she was itching herself before she got in a fight with me. She didn’t even use the lotion on her dry-ass hands. Then I saw her muttering on the phone and tried to read her lips, but he couldn’t. 

Once, she hung up the phone, saying, “Cops are on their way here now! You better leave now!” 

Shawn: “Shit! You just did it!” 

I ran into the backroom, picking up my blue Jansport backpack. I didn’t forget my cell phone. I had everything with me. I left the back room and walked into the sales floor for the last time. I unlock the front door, letting myself exit. As soon as I got out, the weather was a cloudless, sunny day. The moment I knew that I was already fired and recently lost my job at Elite Staffing, and now this! 

I turned around to confront Brittany through the glass door and flipped out my middle finger at her. Then I had an idea of what I wanted to say to her. I walk towards my boss’ green van. I stood behind the back of the green van. It had a white sticker on the bottom as it proudly read, “God loves y’all!”

I scoffed at her being Christian and turned around to tell her the last thing before I went home.

Shawn (in nonverbal sign language): “You pray to God from heaven, hell no, you don’t! You don’t know God!” 

I depicted my index finger towards the sky as she watched me behind the front door at Dollar General.

Shawn (In nonverbal communication): “YOU GO STRAIGHT TO HELL!”

I depict my index finger when changing my directions to the floor underneath me. Then I walked away. This was the last time I ever told her. Now, I realize I regret working with someone so homophobic and full of hatred. I only work there for 11 months! 

One thought on “TRIGGER WARNING CONTENT: I Lost 2 Jobs In September 2015 (The same month!)

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