7/12: The meat shipment arrived two hours late. Demanded recompense, was denied. A full half of the beef provided was clearly aged past fit consumption, stored at inadequate temperature, filled with disturbing quantity of tendons (possibly not even from cow?). Demanded recompense, was permitted to return half of it now, half next week, must store excess in the rear freezer.
Name of driver: William Henderson. Will report him unfavourably; customer service is a priority too often disregarded.
P. Morgan asked for raise again, was denied. Gets free coffee, what more does the leech want? Should be more like T. Gordon; man’s worked here since ’79 and not a peep of it from him. Minimum wage and minimum complaining keep a body pure, steadfast, and noble.
7/13: Milk arrived five minutes late. Demanded recompense, was denied, threatened consequences, was permitted refund. Name of driver: mumbled too quickly to hear, left before clarification could be demanded. Gutless.
P. Morgan asked for raise again, told him if he was so greedy he could take home some of our unfit ‘beef’. P. Morgan complained of this. Loafer.
7/14: Bread arrived on time. Good. Heavy traffic this weekend, employees will have to volunteer for unpaid overtime. Trouble foreseen from P. Morgan, E. Cheswick, S. Nancy, the usual stockroom box-haulers and supply-shovers. Doubtlessly union sympathizers the lot of them.
P. Morgan uncommonly shiftless today, requested time off for sick leave, whined of beef being hard on delicate stomach. Transparent ruse, ordered him back to work.
7/15: Produce truck arrived six hours late and with half our load missing without explanation. Demanded recompense, was denied, demanded name of driver, was referred to “Hubert Jassol,” demanded real name of driver, was denied, demanded name of supervisor, was flipped off. Altogether unsatisfactory, a downright shame. Would change produce supplier if their prices weren’t competitive, will settle for complaining of the matter to police.
P. Morgan has absented himself from work today without even phoning in. Astounding nerve and gall. His job is forfeit, as is reputation, if that even existed.
Addendum: P. Morgan did not sign out last night. Drunk on duty? Burglarized backroom and left through a window? Possibilities numerous, outcomes revolting.
7/16: Monday, the slow day. Just E. Cheswick and T. Gordon plus myself as supervisor. E. Cheswick came to me three times complaining of rats in the backroom. Ordered more traps put down.
P. Morgan does not answer his phone.
Addendum: While placing traps and otherwise doing E. Cheswick’s job for him, T. Gordon found decapitated, gutted rat. A stray cat has taken up residence, providence be praised. Money saved on traps used to purchase a donut for myself.
7/17: S. Nancy whines incessantly of strange noises in the stockroom shelves. Informed him of our feline guardian, admonished him for timid and small-hearted nature, mocked him for attempting to explain self as having marathoned horror films previous night, chortled at his slothful childishness being the source of his workplace misfortunes. Offered to have T. Gordon do the rest of his job for him, as if he didn’t already.
A good day.
Addendum: P. Morgan’s phone is no longer in service.
7/18: T. Gordon is now the only staff member willing to enter the stockroom alone – others travel in pairs, even to move so much as a box of coffee filters. Shameful degenerates, hallucinatory nitwits. Still they waffle of strange noises. S. Nancy claims he heard breathing. S. Nancy is so fat he hyperventilates every three steps without rest. S. Nancy has had his pay docked for the evening.
P. Morgan has still not tendered his resignation, and his landlady denies having seen him or heard news of his rent. Commiserated with her on the state of the young and lazy thugs that make up this country’s next generation for three hours. Got her number.
Addendum: Woke up four times overnight in my office. A bad donut? Too much coffee? New Coke fridge too noisy? Hard to say, but sleep is bafflingly elusive tonight.
7/19: Awoke, opened office door, found a trail of what appeared to be bloodied footprints strewn about its threshold, well-crusted and old.
A shoddy prank. I would suspect P. Morgan of it were he not absent, S. Nancy is too timid and E. Cheswick too lazy. T. Gordon? An impossibility.
Shoplifting has gone up. Half our meat aisle is depleted, and our sales do not match. May yet need that spoiled meat from the back.
Addendum: On closer inspection, some of them were handprints.
7/20: Friday. A busy time. We must stock up, regardless of panic and prankage. The staff refuse to enter the backroom at all now, all save T. Gordon. May they one day know one-tenth the courage and steadfastedness of an 83-year-old blind, deaf near-mute. Nothing but some red paint and their livers turn to lilies
The spoiled meat is gone, and the freezer left wide and gaping. P. Morgan, curse him! Not only did he desert us, he stole company property! I will review our cameras so the police will take him to task.
Addendum: Our backroom cameras have been defaced with more red paint for some days. All records useless.
7/21: Saturday night and T. Gordon has gone missing. Even the most faithful desert me! T. Gordon may have injured himself somehow. E. Cheswick and S. Nancy will search for him, or so help me I will peel their hides and staple them to the bulletin board.
Update: No sign of T. Gordon.
Update II: The building is closed, and not only is there no sign of T. Gordon, E. Cheswick, the worthless lout, appears to have crept off from work without leave. The impertinence of the youth of today is eternal. A good man is missing, and they think only of their own inconvenience! Without T. Gordon, how will the Sunday stocking be undertaken!?
7/22: E. Cheswick’s roommate came looking for him. Told the filthy pothead off, I will not allow such smells in my store. The wad of spittle was a fair trade against five more minutes of his odious presence.
Oh T. Gordon! Why leave me alone in this hour? S. Nancy refuses to leave the front desk at the day and flees openly from the prospect of a night shift, and I can spare only so much time from supervision! Without you, Holbert & Holbert Grocers is less than it was. Without you, the coffee is without taste. Without you, sweeping is a chore once more.
Addendum: Have shut up my office door with a padlock. For caution’s sake. Vandals cannot prank their mischiefs upon the contents of my files! Will sleep lightly tonight, as a cat, in wait for intruders.
7/23?: Believe it is early morning. Woke to use washroom, used doorknob without thinking, found padlock missing and door already slightly ajar. Difficult to tell due to (apparent) power failure, but stickiness on floor (and small bump – inspection reveals it as T. Gordon’s glasses? How?) suggests further vandalism has taken place.
Update: Cannot exit through front door. Padlock has been affixed to it and bashed so severely that key will not enter it. Lack of power prohibits phone line (would that I had a youth’s cellphone, curse it) but 7/11 across the way still shows lights. Perhaps the fusebox is damaged?
Update II: Fusebox has been torn from the wall and violently shredded. Crowbar maybe?
Update III: Stockroom full of rats by sound of it. Unhygienic. Will remain in power closet for now. Hantavirus would not be pleasant, nor rabies.
Update IV: Door is being scrabbled at. P. Morgan! It must be! Fool cannot possibly know my presence, must be coming back to commit further vandalism! Pocket-flashlight is ready, will catch him in the act w/red paint and all. Look on his face will b