Psychotic Assistant Manager

by James MacLaren

Now of course the manager is laid back, and pretty relaxed, right? So why in hell does there have to be a Psychotic Assistant Manager in the first place?

Dunno.

Some kinda balance of nature or something I guess.

Fat.

Strawberry blonde female.

Missing her front teeth.

If you looked up Trailer Trash in the dictionary, her picture would be right there next to it.

No fucking social skills whatsoever.

But she’s found her little niche in life, by god, and she’s gonna be bucking for a promotion the whole time.

How in hell, exactly, is it that somebody could voluntarily decide that yes, by golly, they DO wanna devote the rest of their adult life to being the very best Inconvenience Store manager there is? Is it an utter lack of other opportunity to raise themselves out of the pit they dwell in? Could it be that they’re so blinkered that they just can’t even SEE another path for their sorry life? God forbid they should actually LIKE this shit.

No, that can’t be it. The Psychotic Assistant Manager sure the hell doesn’t LIKE it. In fact, there’s times when she HATES it. Especially when she’s having to put up with all them slackers, grinding it out day by day at minimum wage, without the least concern for the store, the company, nothing! Slackers. The scum! THEY’RE the ones that are going to interfere with her promotion.

And so she goes into Hitler mode. And leaves little Hitlergrams tacked to the door to the manager’s office. This wasn’t done. That was done wrong. This needs to be done. That needs to be done correctly. And on and on and on.

Like any of us give the least shit about her fucking little store.

Sure thing lady. Whatever you say.

The dummy can’t communicate worth a shit and has zero by way of proper motivational skills, and so she’s constantly mystified why everybody else isn’t devoting THEIR lives to the Inconvenience Store. No. The slacker bastards are sneaking around attempting to evade as much work as possible. How dare they?

And so, like some blighted denizen of the Twilight Zone, our Psychotic Assistant Manager is fated to spend eternity, grasping for a very tarnished brass ring, but always having it snatched away from her by people that don’t pay her the least attention and insist upon failing to do anything at all they’re not forced into doing.

Fuck off, asshole.