Next Tattoo: “NO RAGRETS”
Years ago, I worked in the deli section of a grocery store with the kind of people who get a promotion and immediately forget where they came from and have unrealistic expectations of you. I had to slice meat and cheese for customers, make sandwiches, and make all the fried foods (wings, fried chicken, potato wedges, etc.). When I was hired, I had my sleeves rolled to just below my elbow, and I talked to the hiring manager about my tattoos. (They’re the names of my kids, so nothing offensive.)
About a year after I started working there, they decided that tattoos and piercings were against the dress code. Anyone with piercings had to take them out, and anyone with tattoos had to cover them up. Since my tattoos go down to my wrists, I asked if that went for me, as well, because I was handling people’s food all day, and if my sleeves got dirty, I didn’t want them near someone’s sandwich or something. They scoffed at me and told me that I should have thought about future employment when getting my tattoo.
So, I figured, “I can’t break the rules, so I won’t.”
The next day, as the main bosses of the store were walking around, I had my sleeves down to my wrists. I was making fried chicken, so my shirt was soaked in chicken blood all the way up to my elbows. We had to cook three boxes every morning — about 150 pounds of chicken — and I was halfway through the third box.
When they yelled at me to stop what I was doing, I just innocently asked:
Me: “What’s wrong? Can you see my tattoo?”
They didn’t answer me. One just stared, mouth agape, and the other looked like he was trying to set me on fire with his mind.
Me: “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’m almost done here, and I’ll start making sandwiches.”
They told me to go ahead and go home for the day.
They tried to fire me, but since it was documented that I asked about long sleeves being unsanitary and I was basically told “sucks to suck”, they couldn’t fire me for following the rules they’d set in place.
They tried to start cutting my hours, so I said (very publicly again) that it felt like retaliation for the sleeves thing and I would need to speak with a lawyer. (I couldn’t afford one, but they didn’t know that.)
Finally, a month later, they told me that I was allowed to have my sleeves rolled up while working behind the counter, to which I responded:
Me: “I actually found another job. I’ve been there for two weeks. Have the day your employees think you deserve.”