The story begins in 2008, after recently graduating from college with an English and having nothing to show for it. The job market was terrible, and after overcoming a mental breakdown at the lack of response from the jobs I applied for, I finally managed to snag what I thought was a temporary part-time job for Food Lion, a grocery chain stationed here in the Eastern United States. I was employed in the produce department under the guidance and leadership of Rodney Smith, who then proceeded to make my first official day there a living hell: yelling at me, reprimanding me for honest mistakes, and more yelling. His patience was nil, and considering his previous worker quit on him and also refused to come in on their last day, he was pretty much a wreck. I swallowed my pride and for nearly two years, I strengthened my skills, but was never able to escape Rod's wrath.

I broke down in tears on at least 3 occasions, 2 of which he talked down to me to a degree so low, I wanted my own existence to cease. I never called home office on him. My own family worried for my mental health as I would come home from evening shifts with a defeated look on my face. One day, after breaking down in tears yet again from an irate Rod, I wrote a letter him detailing everything I had bottled in for the past two years: my discontentment with my job, his constant need to yell at me for every error I've committed, and most importantly, the inevitable day I would say f*ck it and resign from this job. He backed off almost immediately, and it wasn't long that he was put on medical leave from his job due to an ever growing back injury. The next two years were what I consider the darkest times of my life. After busting my ass for 50 hours a week, it was severely slashed when a former dairy employee was integrated into the produce department. I hated him instantly. We constantly bickered, and ultimately, my personality started to mimic the very man I held a constant disdain for. Complaints to upper management went cold, and I even told my new produce manager (who was a mere 8 months older than me), that I was unhappy. Four years after I was hired at this company, I put in my two weeks' notice after being fed up with the incoherence and negligence of my coworker. Unemployment sucked, but in a strange way, I felt liberated. My hands could finally heal from the numerous cuts and scratches I got from handling fruit and cardboard, and I wasn't stressed about the next work day.

Interestingly enough, it was a couple months later, and on my birthday nonetheless, that I received a phone call from the company (albeit another location) and the manager there, whom I have the utmost respect for, expressed interest in rehiring me for higher pay and hours. I told said manager I would think on it and ultimately agreed to work for him. It was a longer drive than my previous store, but I didn't mind. I grew to like the location, its employees (with the exception of Rodney, who got rehired as a frozen food manager a couple months after I arrived there, and most importantly, my boss. His name was Ken, and to be quite honest, I wished he had been my manager from the getgo. He was stern but fair, patient and very seldom ever lost his temper. I once told him he was one of the greatest people I've ever met, and even today, I mean that. I was at this location for just over a year, when my hours started getting slashed severely. I was working at 3 different locations over the course of a week to get the hours I would usually work for one. At one of the locations I frequented (in Chester), one of the workers there suggested I transfer since they needed help for produce and could net me better hours. I initially resisted, but decided to do so in late December, with my boss's blessing.

I was stationed in Chester for nearly a year. I had no issues with anyone for the most part, that is, up until today. My boss Jerry and I had a disagreement over fruit baskets. He wanted me to change them before I left and I refused because they were supposed to be done the previous day, which was my day off. My boss then said he didn't care what I had to say, and that I was going to do what he asked of me, or be written up. I broke down not long after, wrote down my immediate resignation on a piece of cardboard, and left the store, only saying goodbye to one employee.

So, I've spent 6 years doing this, and now I need to figure out where the hell to go from here. I blame no one but myself for not having the drive to do something better. I felt pretty low coming into the driveway, but after getting all of this written, it feels a bit cathartic. Thank you for letting me share.

I'm sorry to hear all that, Bon. It'll take time, but you'll find another job where they actually respect you eventually.

I decided to go back later that day.