D caused me to lose my $12/hr position as a door greeter and receipt checker because my concussion and pain pills from the car accident I’d been in not even a whole week earlier caused me to not be “all there” and she couldn’t use me for taking returns back to their locations since I needed frequent breaks due to SPRAINING MY ENTIRE BODY.
I was bumped down to apparel ($11/hr), where she ignored me until my managers raved about me in their meetings.
She only wanted to use me on the doors when my concussion symptoms started to subside and I began to behave more like my masked, autistic myself: loud, greeting people, being good at my job.
She criticized my job adjustments, which don’t need documentation unlike accommodations.
She screamed at me when I’d ask to a coworker on the door what she’d just said after she walked off, because I’m Hard of Hearing.
She never listened to anything I said when I spoke for myself.
She denied me to go on my break at the proper time when I needed to “take my medicine” AKA take my vitamins and eat something because of literal anorexia recovery — then said, “[Coworker from same department] shouldn’t have gone,” even though SHE HAD PROMISED TO SEND SOMEONE ELSE TO COVER FOR ME.
I don’t regret the day I walked out, even though I was covering for one of my managers and supposed to BE LIKE A MANAGER that week. No amount of money will ever compensate for abuse.
She told me, “My niece has autism, and you’re nothing like her, so you can’t possibly have it.”
She stopped me on my lunch break to say she’d been calling for me, WTF happened, where TF was I?”
She was told NOT to pull me unless there was no one else in the store. She had four cashiers working ONE basket of returns.
At age 61, she died. I laughed when I saw the post in a local Facebook group.
Her obituary says, “her family described her as loving because she loved hard and loved everyone unconditionally.”
“Her smile could brighten anyone’s day.”
“…she was always the most beautiful person in the room, inside and out.”
“[Name] was a Christian,” yet acted like anything but.
She harassed me every day we both worked.
I’d asked my supervisors, “Why is it always me? She never wanted me before, now she does. Except she gets me on the door just to criticize me every time, so it’s not because she thinks I’m ‘the best’ at the door or anything.”
Other people on the door would say, “She just lied to you. We actually need only 3 people, not 4.”
And, “Why is it always you that she picks? She has something against you for some reason. What’d you do to piss her off?”
Be autistic? Disabled? Literally, that seemed to be her biggest issue with me — and the fact that I didn’t just accept her shit.
Other people were allowed to chat with each other door. I was not.
I was permitted to use a stool when I needed it, and she said,
It’s not fair that other people don’t get to sit when they work! People come in, and they see a lazy person sitting down. You don’t even act like you’re injured. My cashiers, they don’t get to sit, either. Why should you get to?
…because I sprained my entire body when I was in a car accident?? I WAS LITERALLY IN A WRECK MY SECOND DAY.
She KNEW I was placed on the door because I had been in a fucking car accident.
She’d told me no one would believe ME over her because she’d worked there longer and was “#2 to the store manager” (she wasn’t).
Supervisors said, “She’s always like that, just ignore her,” which enraged me because I am SO OVER people just ignoring (enabling) abusive behaviors. Abuse is abuse. Ableism is a form of discrimination, which is a form of abuse.
Her family can remember her as a “good”, kind person.
I’ll remember her as someone who was ugly AF on the inside and how able-bodied people enabled her.
For me, she was another abuser in my life and she’s now one less I ever have to worry about seeing again.
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