fucking idiots

#902.5: Spoogecakes 2 – Electric Boogaloo

Today’s chapter of Record Store Tales is a direct sequel to Part 35.5:  Spoogecakes!

 

RECORD STORE TALES #902.5: Spoogecakes 2 – Electric Boogaloo

LeBrain HQ has eyes and ears everywhere!   We are like Hydra:  cut off one head and two shall takes its place.

If you recall, when I launched this site in 2012, I had one anonymous hater.  Really nasty, too.  You can read the comments yourself.  This came right out of the blue.  The identity of the hater was confirmed by one of her co-workers at the Record Store:  an employee there at a location I once managed.  I had barely begun publishing my stories.  “Grow up or shut up,” went one of the kinder comments.  This only inspired me to keep writing, with more energy and frequency.  Obviously I had struck a nerve!  I actually owe this hater a huge thanks.  The drama she created catapulted me into another level, and the hits have only increased in the years since.  She provided the launchpad, so I do owe her my gratitude.  Craig Fee dubbed her with the nickname “Spoogecakes”, and I ran with that name for the Record Store Tales that followed.  I turned her hatemail into a chapter of the story.  Lemons into lemonade.

Hey, you wanna troll Record Store Tales?  Then Record Store Tales will troll you right back.  Some of my former co-workers there thought it was incredibly nasty of me exploit her vitriolic comments for views the way I did.  (What they thought of her actions — my so-called friends who were groomsmen at my wedding — they didn’t share that with me.)   I hadn’t planned on writing about her at all.  She was a non-entity and completely unimportant to my story.  She wrote herself in, as far as I was concerned.

Fast forward to the present:  she’s still at the Record Store, and just as endearing as ever.  A few months ago, I was just sitting here boppin’ through my day, when I got an email from a source bearing a tidbit of inside gossip.  My source revealed that Spoogey has been promoted to a manager of some kind, and isn’t the kind you’d want to work for.  I have obscured certain text to protect the identity of the informant, but the bones of their message are below.

“[Spoogecakes] is training someone, and that person has to leave home at 4 AM to get to the store, to suit [Spoogey’s] needs.”

Good luck with training someone after they’ve spent five hours on a bus.  Hope that worked out for ya.  Stuff like that never happened when I was training.  I drove people to and from training if I had to.  (Ask Shane.)

The training in question involves a box of used CDs that we would use to practice buying techniques.  How to check the discs for quality, how to check inventory, and how to price them.   The process of this training was previously detailed in Part 94:  Staffing.  (You can also watch a demonstration of me doing this in a live stream from last year.)  In all my time at the store, I never made anyone get up at 4 AM for this.  The story continues:

“In retaliation, the trainee wanted to leave a surprise for [Spoogey] in the box of used discs.  I got the impression it was a used sex toy.  The plan was for her to find it in the box with the other used items.”

My source said that the gist of the conversation was that “no one likes [Spoogey]. The manager of the store was in disbelief of her antics.”  The source also suggested that the conversation would have been a lot worse and more graphic if there were not customers in the store.

Some things never change!

Part 35.5: Spoogecakes!

A former co-worker gets a case of foot-in-mouth disease!

Walrus Face

RECORD STORE TALES Part 35.5:  Spoogecakes!

I’m going to take a break from our regularly scheduled program, and respond to a single reader.  It’s always great to have new readers here at LeBrain’s Record Store Tales, we’ve had people from all over the world, from Russia to Iceland.  Hello!

Still, it came as a surprise to me to get a comment so negative, so full of personal vitriol…yet anonymously!

The comment in question was in regards to Part 35: Due Credit. The submitting email address: bitchingaboutpastemployers@yahoo.com, the pen-name was “Unimpressed”.  Normally I wouldn’t publish a hateful anonymous comment, but this one was bizarre and perfect for another Record Store Tale.

Since this person was anonymous, I will dub them with a name so I have someone to refer to:  Let’s call he or she “Spoogecakes” [Note added:  Her real name is Laura, and she used to have this weird psycho-crush on me back in the day.]

Let’s go!

You are begrudging them for utilizing you where they thought you shined? They wanted you in a position where you were visible to customers first-hand and you sit back and complain?

Dear Spooge:   Yes.  It’s not “utilizising” someone where they shine.  It’s taking advantage of someone in a dead-end job.  Nobody wants to stay “visible to customers” in a retail environment forever.  That’s like saying to a McDonalds employee “you’re really good at making fries, so we’re going to keep you on the fry station.  Forever.”  Know of any better ways to kill worker morale?

Record shop employees can have a tremendous influence on customer base and at a time when the internet and websites were not as expected and commonplace as they are now, your employers wanted to maintain your skills as a visible employee.

Spooge, how do you know what my employers wanted?

Just because you did something first does not entitle you to be a sycophantic jackass.

Sycophantic?  It’s my fucking story, moron.

It’s called development of ideas and if you did not speak up at the time at what you perceived as slights on your efforts then you are just as much to blame as anyone else. If you wanted to be in the office working in your 30s you should have asked for such work or began the process of finding much more fulfilling employment.

Again, who says I didn’t?  What makes you think you would know?  In fact, we all did — and we were all made promises that never came to fruition.  All kinds of stories.  I remember one story about how we’d have 100 stores across the country in 5 years, and how I’d never have to buy another CD from a crackhead ever again.

Second, it’s not called “development of ideas”.  It’s taking someone else’s idea, and shutting them out.  Period.

You are not a peacemaker. Staying silent and then making public posts like this illuminate a petty passive-aggressiveness that is unattractive and will only fuel your bitterness. It is not peaceful. You are coming up on your 40s and either grow up or shut up at this point. This isn’t High Fidelity and you are not remotely amusing.

How do you know how old I am?  And, let me help with your reading skills, Spooge.  I never said I AM a peacemaker.  I said I WAS a peacemaker.  Much like Lester B. Pearson, I ain’t anymore.  Give peace a chance?  Been there, done that!  I’m done holding my tongue.   I didn’t at the time, because going with the flow was “better than nothing” as I clearly stated.  But, why do you care?  What makes you take the time out of your (obviously) busy day to write a three paragraph treatise on staying in dead-end jobs?

Lastly:  I’m “not remotely amusing”?  Come on!  Really? — after all, you read it and felt moved enough to respond.

Sounds to me like Spoogecakes has a sore spot or two.  After all, I can’t imagine why a random, anonymous reader would feel so driven to write such a vitriol-filled comment!  What Spoogey  apparently missed was the part where I said I was proud of what I did all those many years ago.

When one creates something, one should take pride in it.  In this case, am I taking pride belatedly.  I am very proud of everything I built and created, and nobody — certainly not Spoogey here — can tell me not to.  I spent way too many years having people tell me to sit down and not to make any trouble.  And here, you’re telling me to “grow up” or “shut up”.  Just like the old days!

Grow up?  Maybe you clicked the wrong link to your Barry Manilow blog, but this blog is about rock and roll.  You can tell by the little guitars going up and down the sides.  Rock and roll ain’t about growing up — it’s about permanent youth!

You can’t tell me to “shut up”.  In fact, the Record Store Tales are only beginning.

Hugs N’ Kisses,