Chapter 1: The Monster I became.

This story should be told from the beginning. I am not a victim, just an aggressor receiving their karma.

           I should start from the beginning, when I first joined the company, which for obvious reasons will not be stated. I can say that it was in a fast food environment, and if you must know I made sandwiches. This was my first job. I was ecstatic to have finally been given a chance to prove my work ethic. I started out at $8.25 an hour, working 3-4 days a week. If I was lucky, I’d work six hours a shift, even luckier if I got a break during a shift. Needless to say it wasn’t my career of choice, but I was happy nonetheless.

            My coworkers really made my experience there pleasant. They were funny, clever, and overall fairly chill. Working with them was the highlight of working there. When someone would ask why do you like working here, I’d respond with “the people I work with.” It took some time, but by the sixth month mark of working there we were close. There were very few aspects of my life my coworkers didn’t know about me. We talked and talked about our lives, aspirations, and of course other coworkers.

            This is where one can guess where the fatal flaw was made. Gossiping in the workplace is a sharp sword. But you don’t get cut if you’re in the inner circle. I was in the inner circle and often times I would take jabs at other people. Looking back now, I regret to reveal the kind of person I was. It disgusts me to the very core. I became a predator hungry for prey.  

            Skills I would never put on a resume that I acquired while working at the sandwich shop include: lying, manipulating, conniving, and gossiping. I wish I could say that I just followed the flow of the stream. I wish I could say that I never became the primary aggressor. I wish I could say that I never participated in any of it. The truth is I started the stream at times. The truth is I was a primary aggressor against someone at some point. The truth is that I participated in all of it.  Don’t you ever wish that you could go back in time and talk some sense into your past self?

Susan (not her real name for obvious reasons) was what you can call my first victim. On her first or second day on the job I was chosen to train her on register. I did just that. Unfortunately, my abrasive personality rubbed her the wrong way. She mistook my blunt language as insulting. Susan told my coworkers that I had mistreated her. I initially tried to do the right thing and apologized for my language and stated that I did not intend for her to get offended. I did this through text and never got a response. She told my coworker that she had forgiven me. This is the point where I became childish.

I was “offended” that she did not respond to my text and that she had told my coworker that she had forgiven me. For some reason, I felt the entitlement that I required a response to my apology. Insert time traveler present me talking some sense into ignorant past me. “Just drop it and move on. Who cares if she didn’t text you back with her apology acceptance. This is your workplace, not your personal life. Focus on getting ahead in life. You’ll regret this later on.”  

            Needless to say, I set out on my own personal vendetta against Susan. As my coworkers voiced their frustrations about her, I’d chime in with my own. “She’s so stupid.” “I don’t even think she realizes how stupid she is.” “I. Hate. Her.” I wanted Susan out and gone. I felt that she had ruined my “perfect” reputation at the shop. Every chance I had, I would go out of my way to make the time we shared as uncomfortable as possible. No one talked to her more than what was necessary. We didn’t say, “Hi.” When she talked, all we did was stare. One of us would break the staring by looking at another person. Susan would walk away. Once she was gone, we would talk about her.

            My coworker, Rebecca, found out some juicy gossip about Susan. Rebecca had somehow gained Susan’s trust. Susan was younger than us by a year, but she was already married with a child. We used this information shamelessly. Someone stated, “I hope her kid grows up to be smarter than her.” To which someone would respond, “I doubt it. She is his mother after all.” We knew that word would eventually circle its way throughout the store and make its way to her ears. This was our goal. We were the inner circle, and she was the outsider. We all took jabs, I took the most.

            We bullied Susan so much that one day she didn’t show up for her shift. We had broken her down to the point where the job was no longer worth the effort. She quit. I don’t know if she had another job lined up, or if she was willing to put up with not having a job for a while, until she found another. All I know is that I now recognize the monster I became. I went out of my way to make someone’s life miserable. For what? I gained no new followers. I still couldn’t change water into wine. I didn’t collect 200 as I passed go. I made Susan’s life miserable because I am a petty human being. If I could say anything to Susan I would say I was sorry for everything I did. I would also add that I know my words mean nothing to her. She was the bigger person. Susan showed me the person I was willing to become…a monster.