I Helped My Company Survive a Global Pandemic. I Got a Bag of Chips.


I Helped My Company Survive a Global Pandemic. I Got a Bag of Chips.

There it was on the break table propped open. A large, colorful cardboard box. Small, snack-size baggies strewn about.

I walked past it a dozen times before I bothered to ask what it was. Finally, another manager told me. “That’s our thank-you gift for navigating the pandemic last year.” I thought he was kidding. Is this a joke? Unfortunately, this was no joke.

Shock doesn’t really begin to describe the feeling. I was stunned and disheartened but not completely surprised. I felt taken advantage of and forgotten. Expendable. We didn’t get raises in 2020 so I was hoping corporate was coming up with some great plan to compensate us. We did just help save the company from total collapse.

We had received terrible holiday gifts in the past but I thought that managing a team through a worldwide pandemic may elicit a more elevated gift.

Money was what I was thinking. I wanted money.

2020 was a wrecking ball, as we all know. We had to close our store for two months and furlough staff. I still came in with two other managers four days a week to process online orders. We were dedicated. We were scared but we would do whatever we could do to help our company survive this global tragedy. We wanted jobs to come back to for ourselves and for our entire teams. We worked hard every day, knowing that all those people furloughed that couldn’t come in, would do it for us.

As things began to open, we shifted all priorities to cleaning and safety. When I say we cleaned everything all the time, that’s not an exaggeration. We cleaned the counters and the fitting rooms AFTER EVERY CUSTOMER.Our knuckles bled they were so dry and cracked. Our management desk became one giant collection of essential oils and hand salves.

We enforced mask mandates and kept customers behind plexiglass shields. We limited occupancy. We taped new OSHA information to the windows weekly. My teenage associates were more mature than most adults about the whole thing. “Can you stand behind the plexiglass for me? Thank you.” I heard all day long. “Let me just clean my counter before you set your things down.”

Most customers were appreciative. Some weren’t. Someone yelled at us for not providing hand sanitizer before we closed in March 2020. You couldn’t buy that stuff anywhere back then but nevertheless, we didn’t have any and that was our fault. Shame on us. We were the worst.

People were stressed and they took it out on us regularly.

The vaccine came as did more mutated variants. Corporate staff was brought back on but kept at home to protect them. Us front-line workers got shorter mall hours and weekly trips to Walmart because the company could not send us enough paper towels. “Just make a supply run”, they would tell us. We were exhausted from the stress, the worry, and the customer interaction. As leaders, we had to listen to staff worries and comfort them as well as manage our own lives and fears.

I quit working out. I drank more than I normally did. I ate bread and downed a lot of coffee. I took extra breaks. I doom-scrolled. I survived. I projected confidence and maintained calm. I was the leader that everyone needed. I took no shit from customers.

I was awarded a box of snacks that were meant to be shared with the whole team.

I left it on the table. No gift at all would’ve been better than this.

The company prides itself on culture. That’s been their excuse to pay us less all these years — the culture is really cool! Sure, it was, but it’s now non-existent. We don’t have meetings. We can’t get together. Zoom fatigue has set in and all the virtual meetings we have are pretty much pointless.

Money is doled out to shareholders while we wipe down counters as our knuckles bleed. Then we’re told we’re not getting a raise. Enjoy your chips!

The CFO raves about how great the company is doing, we’re saving massive amounts of payroll because we can’t hire staff — no one is applying and then I’m told I’m only getting a 3% raise even though my review ratings are through the roof. It doesn’t add up. Inflation is currently 6.5%, by last estimates so, at this point, I’m just losing money.

The work that we do is essential.

My commute is far. The job is physically demanding. Leadership training is non-existent at this point. We staff 50, mostly teen associates. This is typically their first job. There is a lot they don’t know. This is great but it is also an added challenge for store leaders.

The work that we do is essential. Yes, we sell a product, but we are a neighborhood store. Friends run into each other almost daily. Kids run into teachers, and teenagers squeal when they bump into friends they haven’t seen in months. We make this environment happen. The leaders do, not the company. Not to mention, we’re training the next generation of workers. We’re training people from scratch. We’re teaching people how to behave at a job, period. They know nothing. We’re teaching them etiquette and work ethic. The leaders of buildings do this, not the company.

2022 is about to be a rude awakening. People aren’t going to keep doing this. Retail is hard, physical work and we get terrible raises. We are leaders that have to act as referees, cheerleaders, older siblings, counselors, confidants, and protectors. We have to switch gears constantly. We change direction on a dime. We’re good at it too.

Make us want to stay.

Now we’re just tired and we’d like more money. Give us raises. Good ones. Make us want to stay. I didn’t get one in 2020 so I’m missing out on a whole year. I didn’t forget that.

Companies need to take a long, hard look at their values. I’m done being understanding about this whole thing. For years we’ve been told that we can’t have this and we can’t have that and by the way, cut ten hours of payroll every week. We’re trying to save money. For what?

We are leaders of large teams, we are merchants. We are career professionals and we just helped guide the stores through a global trauma that we haven’t quite sorted out yet and that no one will ever forget. We’re still dealing with the psychological effects, you can’t pay us in Doritos. That doesn’t quite cover my mortgage in fact.

There is about to be a mass exodus. I know you think you’ve seen it already but just wait until next year. People are demanding better and leaving if they don’t get it. Companies need to show us they care and give their store leadership teams raises. They also need to give people with tenure more money and reward loyalty. All this talk of hiring bonuses should be thrown out the window.

Quit throwing chips at us and hoping we’ll be satisfied. We are career professionals, not seventeen-year-old boys. If you want us to stay and continue to work as hard as we have for the past two years, you can show us your appreciation in the form of more money in our bank accounts. Or you can come down here and ring this person up because we will be gone.

About Kit

Kit Campoy is a former retail professional turned freelance writer. She writes about Leadership, Retail, and Web3. Contact Kit for your content needs.


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