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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (Aug. 12, 1987)
Page 2mie Battalion/Wednesday, August 12,1987 Opinion American workers suffering from disrespectful bosses Many young Americans are criticized for their lack of competition while in college and later, in the business world . Elisa Hutchins Guest Columnist Some say our products are not being made with the same quality or enthusiasm as in the good old days. As a 22-year-old college student who works, I can’t understand how my generation could be guilty of such a crime. What could be the reasons for millions of young adults to steal from their work place, to call in sick, or to just not care about their jobs and worry only about their next paycheck. We couldn’t have been born this way. Something or someone must have happened to us to cause such problems at work. I stumbled onto one possible reason when the assistant manager of the bookstore I work in and I argued over a policy change. Since he is an employee of Texas A&M and might be recognizable, I will refer to him as Egghead. Egghead had an inspiration to put down the entrance gate to the textbook area of the bookstore at 5 p.m. everyday. The store closes at 6 p.m. He opened a small glass door located in the patio bookstore that was now the only entrance to the store. “What is that #$%#$%$ doing? Everyone will think we are closed and they will have to come in through the patio bookstore to get a textbook,” I said. My friend just looked at me after this comment because I usually don’t say things like that. Anyone who has worked in a bookstore knows it can be boring. Not boring like listening to Lt. Col. Oliver North say “I don’t recall having shredded that.” But boring in the sense that you want to be out in the sun getting a tan and not working in the basement of the Memorial Student Center. jerk” would pop into my mind. I had to talk to Mr. Manager and get rid of this problem. When I went in to work, I decided to do it. My palms sweated as I went past the secretary and into Mr. Manager’s office. “Can I talk to you?” He motioned me to sit, and I blurted out the situation in full detail. Of course I only remembered what Egghead had said and left out anything that I may have done. When I finished a peaceful feeling came over me, and I could breath again. But the feeling was short-lived. This was an exciting break from the monotony of ringing up customers’ books for the second summer session, seeing their eyes dilate to three times their normal size when they saw the total and reciting our return policy. Egghead, having seen the horror on my face from his bold move, asked me if I had any problems with what he did. I told him I did because everyone was looking in the gate and asking if we were closed. He said that if I didn’t like it, too bad. He was my superior and had permission from the manager to close it. I promised myself I wouldn’t get upset and remain tactful before going in. But I could feel my eyes begin to swell with tears as Mr. Manager told me that he would back Egghead all the way. When Mr. Manager left for the day, he said, Egghead was in charge. “I know who my bosses are, but he had no right to threaten me and humiliate me in front of customers.’ My words and tears came rolling out. I told him that I would go see Mr. Manager in the morning to find out why anyone would want to have seven employees being paid by the hour, wandering around an empty bookstore because no customers “You do a good job here, and I appreciate your work but he is your boss and if he says something, I will back him 100 percent,” he said. I couldn’t believe it! I felt as if I were a nail and Egghead and Mr. Manager were hammering me into the ground. I had been put in my place with all the other peons. To understand where the problem comes in, you have to know the layout of the building. The A&M Bookstore just opened a patio addition of reference books and magazines which Egghead is manager of. There are two cash registers used in the store. One in the new section and the other is in the textbook area. I am in charge of the latter and run it religiously from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. Along with this task, I am responsible for answering phones and doing credit card charges. Egghead and Gladys (a 16 year die-hard employee and my immediate boss) have an ongoing competition to see who can get the most money in book sales. Whenever she can, Gladys lures his customers into the textbook area to purchase their books. And Egghead in return, will go get textbooks for people and bring them to pay in the patio store. It’s all good clean fun, right? Huh! I came in to work Thursday and not more than 10 minutes after Gladys left for the day, Egghead began putting the gate down. Since I am a lowly part-time student worker on the lower rung of the ladder, I was not told of this change in policy. “Are we closing early today?” I asked my friend. “This place close early, you’ve got to be kidding,” she laughed. were coming in. He politely told me that if I went over his head, it would be the sorriest day I ever had. I couldn’t believe he said this! He threatened me, and the customers in the store before this fiasco happened, were eagerly looking on as the fur began to fly. “If I want to talk to Mr. Manager, I will. I have the right to speak to him and it doesn’t mean I’m going over your head.” I tried to stay calm. Egghead, having gained the reputation as a student-worker hater after he made a girl in customer service cry, couldn’t believe my response and left in disgust. The next day, I didn’t say anything to Mr. Manager out of mortal fear. I have been working at the bookstore for seven months and in that time the extent of our dialogue has been a hurried “hi.” But I’ve always respected the man for hiring me and have not had any problems before. I knew I could talk to him and he would understand that giving his permission to close the gate was lacking in good business sense and that Egghead should not have threatened me. Was I asking too much? The problem kept rambling around my brain. I would try to read my journalism book and in mid-sentence the phrase “what a “Once they become managers, they’re all like that,” Gladys advised after I told her what happened. “I used to get upset and go home in tears and now I just go home mad.” Where is the justice? I pleaded my case and nothing happened. I felt helpless. At this point, I no longer respected Mr. Manager and as for Egghead, I could only say “#$%** Though I am a student-worker, I should have some say in matters and all managers should respect and at least be civil to their employees. After all, it’s all of us little people that make this earth spin. iga paper from the bathroom for some revenge. I could either quit or go back to work with Egghead. I could relate to the factory workers, illegal aliens and any others who have to take this day after day. No wonder people get so fed up with their jobs. Everyone wants to supervise, and no one wants to admit to being wrong. But I don’t usually. The muckracking, anti-establishment journalist in me couldn’t sit still for this. So I QUIT! Elisa Hutchins is a senior journalism major and a guest columnist for The Battalion. Mail Call Education helps improve life EDITOR: Frank Fay raised several important questions in the July 30 issueof The Battalion, and deserves honest answers. His concern that “product competition” between nations resulting from students returning to their respective countries with American technological training is unfounded. Most foreign students at A&M are sponsored by universities and communities to study in graduate programs soil, when they return to their native countries, they will have a strong technical background in their field. Their training allows them to teach skills and technology that will be used to improve living conditions in their country. With respect to competition, a more important fact is that their training requires that they use the same equipment used during their studies and research. Mr. Fay should! family an When convent. would Iasi I “My fri me three | Kunz n iipitment satisfied that the “product competition” he vaguely ref ers to in his letter is really an opportunity to create a wider market for U.S. and equipment. Thus, educating foreign students does not encourat competition, but prevents it These students can also improve the quality of life for thousands eclesiastic in other countries. Therefore, the Texas Legislature has createda P 1 ^ 81 ^ tuition schedule that requires out-of-state and -country student top? ^ Bryan 1 their fees in full according to a theoretical average expense. Only p St. Jos< Texas residents may receive subsidation from Texans’ tax dollars. | with a co Implying that foreign students are taking advantage of our l^rhl-hu educational system is insensitive and misleading. If these students ail jpg t hese help give people outside the United States a better life, then let our k ' system continue educating them, even if immigration laws do not allow those who would stay here a chance to live with Americanrigt and privileges. stocks gy, hav L.A. Reinhardt Letters to the editor should not exceed 300 words in length. The editorial staff reserves the right to titlu'A for style and length, but will make every effort to maintain the author’s intent. Each letter must must include the classification, address and telephone number of the writer. aking a! a reputati assionaO “It me; forces an gether as purpose says. “It i Ble to grc soimeful These When it’s the old summertime hospital’s :al staff, nd all tl lys. Aside f kunz’s jo Tam dev nd, as a Franciscai I pulled into one of those mini-service stations that double as convenience stores on the south side of Atlanta for gasoline and something cold to drink. Another 1 > about six towel down in anger and cursed: meetings, car, the heat and the hell-hotasi . But i-ii i r i i > ! pl ace to S' on which he stood. I hadnt i t was mentioned the humidity. Itjusi James Pa hung there. I swear you couldse: coming a almost touch it. 1 When s Lewis Grizzard The heat. What the heat has been like practically all over the country. “I was in Chicago,” a man said to me, “and it was 96.” That’s Chicago. Unbearably cold in the winter. But when the Hawk goes back to Canada for the short summer season, you miss the big chill. I’m glad I don’t live in Chicago anymore. I spotted them outside the service station. The hood was up on their car, an older model something or other. I quit keeping up with models and makes of cars in the late ’50s or whenever it was Fireball Roberts got killed. The wife sat on the curb drenched in perspiration. Her little boy sat next to her, occasionally pulling on a large bottle of Coke. He was shirtless and shoeless. I am naturally nosy. I asked": woman what had happended. ters as tea ,„ Ar , . _ And by We re moving to 1 ennessee sa y S s h e she said. “Lonnie’s gotajobwel with God. This old car started runningk helped esi “The air conditioner don’twf Kunz a neither,” said the little boy. soim^ ki! I would have offered them Ch ^ c ^ t help, but my knowledge about t0 gj ve matters automotive endswitM way to turn the key in order tot ° n ce 7 , . 7 around, t cranking. der of nu I drove on north toward thef CdU r s , L ’. lt 18 i his ati and began thinking about whar fascinated had just seen. I magine driving ch “>gs. state to state in this heat withe:* c j s conditioning, I thought to myst Wood cai . . . . r . . , I Francis ar Imagine the wire complaHimj Althoui and the kid crying and thesweait ciscan Coi pouring off you in torrents. pf y I thought back to the VWIi: « It She h; when I was first married. Web over h^dn air conditioning either and once Althou] had a flat tire on the outskirtso! Macon, the hottest place onearff My wife had to change the tire fanned with a folded road map The husband had half his body under the hood of the car. He had taken off his shirt, too. There were Alabama license plates on the car. I watched the man work in the awful heat. Obviously, his car had overheated. He was pulling hoses out and putting hoses back in. He had a towel around his neck. He used it to wipe off the sweat that was pouring from his face. Fie suddenly pulled his hand back from under the hood. Something had burned his hand. He flung the As I drove on, I turned myalS conditioning to full blast. The jg _ comfort of that brought me the discomfort of at least a tingeofl I’m tooling down the road asct® can be, and poor Lonnie and hill (AP) — family are baking next to their! ^ in the Georgia sun. back if v I at least said a prayer for the' Voters' God help them to make it to the! day w he job in Tennessee, and if thatol sl crate breaks down again at least Tarrant a be near a shade tree. be ca sting Copyright 1987, Cowles Syndicate Jbeanwhil The Battalion (USPS 045 360) ' rtingnt**' . AM and: I I Member of Texas Press Association Southwest Journalism Conference The Battalion Editorial Board Sondra Pickard, Editor Jerry Oslin, Opinion Page Editor Rodney Rather, City Editor John Jarvis, Robbyn L. Lister, News Editors Homer Jacobs, Sports Editor Tracy Staton, Photo Editor Editorial Policy The Battalion is a non-profit, self-supporting operated as a community service to Texas A&M and College Station. ■ Opinions expressed in The Battalion are those of* 1 ' rial board or the author, and do not necessarily reptt' 1 ' opinions of Texas A&M administrators, faculty or tit:' of Regents. The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newip.pt 1 dents in reporting, editing and photography classes*':'' Department of Journalism. The Battalion is published Monday through Frith!' Texas A&M regular semesters, except for holiday and' nation periods. Mail subscriptions are $17.44 per semester,))^ school year and $36.44 per full year. Advertising fl’-’ nished on request. 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