Control over employees is a necessary tool of corporate consistency.
For instance, McDonalds presumably requires certain behaviours surrounding hygiene, food production and service adhered to without question. Customers instinctively must know this too. The ironclad rigidity of such important elements of – particularly – food preparation are part of the business and social contract. I agree to pay for this food on the basis that it won’t kill me. That kind of thing.
At the Bait Shop, the discipline is the same, but one wonders to what end. We’re not dealing with time sensitive products, for example. Yes, the bait will have a use-by date, but it’s not critical, and it won’t kill anyone. So why is the place so stiff?
In fairness, the structure of my day isn’t policed. It would actually be better if it were. Instead of a clear cut timetable, we floor people are left to spend our time as we see fit. There’s almost always something to do; it’s a big store and the only constant is stock in and out, so merchandising and cleaning are chores never completed.
Tension arises from the post hoc assessment of one’s choices. The new Boss is different from the last one, and in addition we have the Tool and Die person (Bait Manager) to make it all good. The plan appears to be relationship building…but nothing else can be neglected either.
It’s a gulag. You’re damned if you do, and damned if you don’t. No-one has responsibility, and everyone has responsibility. We all live or die on collective application or individual merit, depending. You’re off to the cooler for this choice, and praised for this one. Life’s quality depends upon the mood of your jailer.
The chaos exists because it’s (self-evidently) chaotic at the top. Shit flows downhill, as the famous Chinese proverb does, and, being at the bottom, I’m drowning in it.