The new forums will be named Coin Return (based on the most recent vote)! You can check on the status and timeline of the transition to the new forums here.
The Guiding Principles and New Rules document is now in effect.
Work at Wal Mart?
Brett Ashley
Registered User regular
Registered User regular
I'm creating a power point for a class debate about the positive impact of Wal-Mart in the States and around the world.
I'm interested to see how Wal Mart treats their employees. So, if you ever worked at Wal-Mart, Sam's Club or the Mickey D's inside Wal Mart, could I learn about your experience?
Thanks!
I'm interested to see how Wal Mart treats their employees. So, if you ever worked at Wal-Mart, Sam's Club or the Mickey D's inside Wal Mart, could I learn about your experience?
Thanks!
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
Brett Ashley on
0
Posts
He was in the shoe department for a couple years. He was then offered a management position in a different city (2 hours away). They arranged to find him an apartment (5 minute walk from the store) and if I remember correctly they paid to have his stuff moved.
Unfortunately I've lost touch with him though so I can't confirm any of this. Good luck.
Econtalk podcast link ahoy!
The store managers sorta sucked but that was because they were looking out for number 1. The rumor mill was that they had to fight for hours and they worked them too. I don't think I ever worked a day where I didn't see all of them there trying to do whatever it was that they did there, just so they could look better in the higher ups eyes.
A friend I made there was a girl who had a child but wasn't married and wal-mart actually bent over backwards to try and get her to keep her job (she had lost her ride to work) they offered to get someone to come get her, let her transfer to another store anything just to keep her working. (It didn't work out partly because I think she was sorta dumb about it) but they also weren't at all rude to her when she said she just couldn't come in anymore.
The main reason being that they can't really take us out of the garage and doing some B.S. like unload trucks.
Though, that place sucks and I would never, ever work or shop there again.
And they never screwed me on hours.
40 per week.
The big piece of scholarship is "The Economic Impact of Wal-Mart" - here's a blurb about it here, from a conference discussing the report.
I started out as a cashier, but since I was a relatively big dude, they would send me out to the parking lot to get carts. After a while, I was being sent out there every day. So in about 6 months of being a cart-pusher, they tell me that I should just stop being a cashier all together. I agree, and then take a 40 cent hit to my pay. I was kind of upset, but not enough to really complain about it because I should have expected it, and I didn't want to go back to being a cashier anyway.
Cart-pushing is a fun job, though. On nice days, anyway. You don't really get to choose what days to go out, so if it's raining and freezing cold, tough luck. Looking back, it was silly of me to justify what I was doing for what they were paying me, when I get paid almost 3 dollars more doing a much easier job.
Also, our store was ALWAYS understaffed, which is ridiculous because we were always hiring. At one point, there were only two cart-pushers. One for the mornings, and me for the evenings. They started scheduling me for full time hours, but I was still considered part time so I wouldn't get benefits. The real issue, though, was that I didn't want to be full time in the first place because I was starting school.
The front end manager said he needed me on the parking lot for 8 hours a day, so I just changed my availability and there was really nothing he could do about it.
In addition, being understaffed meant that I would also have to help unload the trucks, and still be expected to have the bay filled with carts. Their expectations were always unreasonable. The worst part is that I really enjoyed pushing carts. There was a lot of freedom, I didn't have to deal with people, and I was losing weight. It was just working at wal-mart that killed me.
Anyway let me tell you a story about my buddy Jerry. He was an older guy so naturally he was a door greeter. That is the worst position, by the way.
But he was such a sarcastic dude that anybody that went to complain to him just left with a confused look on their face. The dude was a teacher before he retired and knew how to deal with jackasses. We got along really well.
So after this storm we have a bunch of lights in the parking lot go out, and customers are complaining because they're worried about being mugged. This is a very real issue around here, so naturally I assumed they'd get the lights fixed. It wasn't until almost a month later that Jerry wrote a fucking 6 page essay to corporate that they actually went and got the lights fixed. He later told me he gave a copy to the managers but he didn't think any of them had read it. The dude was a ripper.
It should be noted that this wal-mart was referred to as "the beast" because it was the busiest one in the district, and I had a new front end manager every 6 months because they would get so stressed out. So they probably aren't all this bad.
As for positive, though, my dad was a manager at another store for some time. After we found out that he had a heart condition and couldn't be moving around as much as he was they offered to move him to an easier department. He ended up as a door greeter and hated it, though. They still paid him the same, which was nice. I found they did this with a lot of people that got hurt. Most of our door greeters were dudes who got hurt while unloading the truck or something.
I worked in the TMA, the Sams Club equivalent of TLE, and I was pulled out of the shop to do all sorts of stuff. Unloading trucks, facing isles, working register, even pushing carts (I did this prior to working in TMA).
I can vouch for this. Most managers have profit sharing, and a large part of their income is based upon the Clubs' performance. While working in TMA, we were required by OSHA safety standards to have atleast two employees in the garage at any given time, in case a lift failed or some other accident happened. I would frequently work alone for long periods of time (2-3 hours without another employee in the garage). Sometimes I would have to take a late lunch or break just so I could ensure we were properly staffed, and was ultimately written up three times because of this. I chose not to come back after the 3rd write-up.
To be fair, our Supervisor looked out for us. We were a really tight work force in TMA. He would argue with the managers about write ups, but ultimately he had little power. I had a few really great managers, but ultimately, they cycle managers out frequently (especially in clubs with high revenue, like the one I worked at). In the three and a half years I was there, we had 5 general managers, 3 assistant managers, and about 10 section managers come in and out.
The worst part about working there was a total break-down of communication. Even with the good managers, they failed to communicate to one another. I would tell my manager something, and it wouldn't get passed on to the general manager. For example, we went about 3-4 months without a cart pusher in the parking lot, in a Chicago summer, simply because the correct paper work wasn't filled out and approved by the manager to get the replacement batteries (which we carried in the TMA). Another instance was when our general manager came out and gave us a little pep talk. We had about 5 or 6 cart pushers, and it was about 105 deg. F outside. He told us that he started as a cart pusher and we could take as many breaks as we needed, because our health and safety was his first concern, not how satisfied the members were with getting carts promptly. He was a real class act. About an hour later, when a fellow employee and I were resting by the gatorade cooler we had, one of the CSMs came out (they are our direct supervisors), and yelled at us for not working. When just previously the CLUB MANAGER came out and told us to take as many breaks as we needed.
is that sarcasm because that's actually pretty true
MWO: Adamski
Picture it: Rogers Arkansas 1962. Sam Walton stands before his legacy. No, no, his legacy wasn't hanging out with Ma, Pa, and helping John Boy lie about his writing career, no sir. He wanted corporate dominance. And he got it. According to WallyWorld's own website, the first Walmart was opened in 1962, and a mere 7 years later Walmart was incorporated. A year later a distribution center, that same year, it went public! It took 11 years for Microsoft to go public, the World Wrestling Federation took 23. Sam Walton seemed to adopt a Romanesque. Join us or die. Et Tu Sam?
The man had a screw loose. You see, according to Wal-mart's own website, after losing a bet he made against his own company in 1982, he had to dance in a hula skirt in front of Wall street bastardizing the ancient art of the Hula, So blame him if any of you went blind during my little imitation, however, I can tell you liked it, so you can blame that entirely on this sexy bod (Thrust). Anways, to sum it up, Sam Walton was nuts. . (Do the thing with the lips and the finger).
Over the course of the next 30 or so years, Wal-mart has become the most profitable money suck the world has ever seen. What’s a money suck you ask? Allow me to tell you. A money suck is a company that’ll have low enough prices that you almost have to shop there, else feel guilty for paying more for going else where. It’s a vicious cycle. Which… I believe, are on sale for 9.99.
I was hired at Wal-mart a year ago. It was one of those cases, which are becoming more and more common as I grow older, where I set the bar low, then accidentally tripped over it and landed face first in the dog-doo that is a walmart career. . Oh, I'm Paul by the way, and yes, before you ask, yes, this is my voice, yes, it is high, and yes, there was an accident involving some, no, a lot of helium at my last birthday party. So, it was with the amazing ability to degrade myself to the point of considering rodeo clown as a better long term career choice, I got a job. At Wal-mart. Let me tell you, I’m sure some poet will say it when I’m long dead, but when you put on that Wal-mart smock of oppression (Slow reveal), There’s something about it that makes you realize you can never go back. The days of action figures and wrestling matches on my bed, gone, all gone, And I imagine that poet would be able to make it just boring and monotonous enough to the point where working -at walmart- would be better than listening to it.. Oh, and It doesn’t end there either (The whole lost innocence thing, not the sucky poem joke), Wal-mart has a way of slowly destroying everything you’ve come to love and care, and get excited for. I’ve always been a bit of a big kid on Christmas, not anymore. For years I could never sleep on Christmas, the allure of free stuff that is cool always kept me awake. No more. Let me tell you -Never- -Ever- work at Wal-mart the day after thanksgiving. Ever seen Braveheart? Yeah, that times ten. Thousands of mothers rushing the isles and the cashiers like so many Mel Gibsons, screaming whatever the hottest toy for the day is “TICKLE ME ELMOOOOO” “YUUUU GHIIIII OOHHHH” Or, well, this year “XBOXXXXXXXX 360000000” which walmart got...4 of. Oh, and for the record,These mothers aren’t fighting for freedom of Scotland, oh no, their fighting for something much more important to them : the affection that only the newest and lowest priced Yu Gi Oh video game can bring them. The funny part of this is, of course, god forbid they *don’t* show up on time. It’s somehow my fault that she was late getting her self, her SUV, and her children, out of bed.
“What do you mean you’re out of My Size Barbie!” It’s a sad state of affairs when a mother has a lower voice than I do.
“Well, Ma’am it was an Early Bird Special, it’s 8 o clock at night now, and we don’t have any more,”
“Well you should get more,”
“Ma’am, If I could, I would,”
“Well,” She stands waiting. At this point of course the mother is angry, the children are starring at me like I told them there wasn’t a Santa Claus, not that I told there wasn’t a Santa Claus, but, there Was a Santa Claus, and I shot him. Oh, and of course, The Dad is staring at the Gun Rack. Heck, you can say that being a fire fighter, or a police officer, or a politician, is brave, and honorable, and that it is, well maybe not that last one so much. But, but, but, how brave is it to tell the family with the guy whose LOOKING AT THE GUNS that you can’t help them out. I dunno, I got a manager and got the hell out of dodge, or, well, it was the toy section. That’s what I don’t understand, how can these people, who can’t be this mean and scary in real life, suddenly enter these automatic doors and pretend that they’re Henry the 2nd or something. By God, alive, a King, and only 40, Now, you, in the blue smock there, yes you boy, fetch me all the finest doo dads and widgets in the land! What? I’m late and can’t read a clock! No matter, Off with you’re head! And yes, that was my Pathetic Sean Connery impression for the day.
So now, I know what you’re all thinking. What do *I * need to do to become a valued Wal-mart employee? Not much. Firstly, you need to be willing to have your intelligence insulted. More than once, less than twenty times, but enough to where you question if you can continue to work at Wal-mart without Pulling a Milton from Office Space. The process starts when you fill out an application that begins the said insulting. Questions like, do you find the state of the world today Maddening are asked twice. The entire application process takes 40 minutes, and is delivered in English, and Espanol. And here is my Antonio Bandares, Italian, Scottish, Welsh and now Espanoel, I'm on a role Eh? Anyways, Following the completion of you’re application, you *Will* receive a phone call the next day. Make no mistake about it folks, if you’re willing to work, Walmart will hire you, and if they can get someone quicker, faster, stronger, they’ll dump you like a red headed step child. Forget the intangibles, intellect, kindness, customer service, hell no. They want quick, cheap, and stupid. They want serfs. They want the six million dollar man for 6.75 an hour. Anyways, My call was something like this:
“Hello, is Paula there?”
“This is him,”
“Hi, Paula, how are you,”
“Good, and it’s Paul, I ate one too many whistles as a child, I assure you, I’m male and over 18,”
“Ohh, okay, well, do you want to come in for an interview today?”
“Uh, sure,”
“Okay, come on in anytime, and just ask for Manager Tom,” Click. Okay, simple enough go in for interview, hopefully don’t suck at it, come back a week or so later for second interview, BAM done. I have a job. WRONG. I arrived at the Wal-mart about a half hour after he called.
“Hi, I’m here for my interview with Tom?” The woman operating the help desk spoke, I imagine, three words of English. She nodded and smiled. Then did nothing.
“Can you get him?” She smiled another blank smile, indicative of not speaking English.
“Hablo Anglais?” I asked, and she smiled and spoke English. Thank God for my local Gas Station.
“Can you –Please- Get manager Tom?”
“Okay,” She did so, and Manager Tom appeared, he looked like a fat Eugene Levy.
“Hi, Paula, come on it,”
‘It’s Paul, I’m a boy!”
From there we went through an interview I explained about my expierence, to which he commented I was drastically overqualified, -but- he couldn’t put me in electronics permanently. I would be a cashier. Hoorah. He mentioned I needed a second interview. He proceeded to ask me the same questions again. Which, interestingly enough, were the same questions on the application. I got the distinct feeling that maybe, just maybe, Wal-mart didn’t have it’s stuff together all the well.
So, after being told I’m hired, I’m required to come to Wal-mart the following day for Orientation, and I can’t miss it, or else I’ll be fired. You know, because I don’t go to school during the day or anything. The orientation included such useful tips as: Don’t leave knives around, don’t leave bleach open and on the floor, and my favorite, in case of fire, EXIT THE BUILDING. I feel as though orientation was really just a retelling of basic childhood truths that most people *should* have learned. No matter. I was to begin work at Walmart, I was, after all, a corporate Whore now, selling only my body for cash. My job required no intelligence, no cunning, no nothing. I would bag groceries and take people’s money. I was a prostitute. All I needed was herpes and some tight leather shorts. A mental image I’m sure no one here needs. Well, except you, you liked the skirt, you must love the shorts -Thrust-
On my first day with the only register training I had being from a computer, I had a very large line in front of my register. Wal-mart doesn’t believe in trainee tags, because, you know, we’re all equal, or something. Anyway, at my register, the line is getting larger, and larger. I’m going as fast as I can, more and more people are coming, I’m getting worried that eventually the line may start a mutiny. Then I hear it. One voice. A voice so mean, so cruel, that I had to respond.
“Why is he so slow?” Asked the woman, of about my weight and height, so I know she wouldn’t be much faster. But that isn’t what she meant. I’ve been told before I have a down syndrome look about me, so I looked at her. She knew I was looking at her. I smiled.
“I’m just a special boy!” I said in the most genuine and sincere voice I could muster. The entire line laughed. They were mine now. They’d wait. They’d have too.
Also, I occasionally “work” The electronics area of Wal-mart, which in all actuality means I try to keep people from messing with the DVDS. I guess teenagers are angsty or something and have fun making my life harder. No matter, I’ll visit them in Juvi someday. Customer came in looking for a relatively inexpensive computer, I oblige, which means going into the back, climbing a shaky moveable stairwell, which is hard enough as it is, but, if you look at how I stand, you’ll see my plight. So, after the Ordeal of getting the machine, balancing my way down, and bringing it out to the customer, WHO WASN’T IN THE DEPARTMENT. A little Wal-mart Foible is that you can’t put product down. If I’m carrying a computer I cannot under any circumstances put it down. I need to place it into the man’s cart. Why, I don’t know, maybe the Product has the right idea and will try to escape. I finally find the man, his cart, and his 3 year old daughter. I place it into his cart, and mention to him very politely I need to check him out here. Mind you my voice goes up (Moreso) when I’m being curteous.
“Sir, I need to check you out at the Electronics desk,”
“You have the weirdest voice ever,” This man, who was probably oh I don’t know, 3 years older than me looked as though his vernacular would forever include the words “Would you like that King Sized?”. I was unaware of how to respond to this guy, who I retorted with the very kind.
“I’ll check you out right over here sir,” To which he obliged, although I doubt the man knew what obliged meant, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. The computer rang up roughly 30 dollars over tag price. Rather than, say, I ask me what the problem was, he swore, rather loudly, in front of his daughter, Okay, whatever, just one more person growing up who, at some point in her life, will hopefully realize that Daddy scarred a nice man from Wal-mart in an attempt to make himself feel like a man. Anyways, I’m off track. Lets get the Amtrak back on the Rails here.
“I don’t know what the problem is sir,” At this point I paged a manager. To which I sound like a middle aged woman.
“One moment sir, someone will be right here, and we’ll figure this out,” The phone in electronics rang. It was manager Jim.
“Whose the girl working in electronics?”
“That’d be me Jim,”
“Diane?”
“Paul…”
“Oh, I’ve never met you Paula,”
“No, Paul, you hired me, remember, we joked about my HIGH VOICE,”
“Ohhh Paul, how are ya,” The urge to throw the phone at something heavy entered my mind. Although, in actuality, I should have thrown something heavy at the phone, oh well, shoulda coulda woulda.
“Well, I need you to come here, we have a price issue,”
“Okay, be right there,” I waited for Mr. Jim, who thought I was Miss. Paula.
“Should only be a moment sir.” The customer, who had been gaining more and more contempt for me seemed to turn from peeved to pissed in 3.14168 seconds.
“You know what, forget it,” He said with such contempt that he must have felt important, I mean, how awesome must it be to tell off the selfconscience Wal-mart employee. Bastard.
“Okay, have a nice day sir,” I said taking the computer from his Cart as he started to move away. He retorted with so much foul language that I imagine I would turn to stone if I were to repeat it here. Lets say that if it had four letters he said it. He mentioned he wished to speak to my manager.
“Okay sir,” I stood there, smiling.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Aren’t you going to get him?”
“Nope,”
“Why not?”
“He’s on his way already sir, which if you remember correctly, made you a bit angry.”
“-Blank- You!” The word he used, of course, was not Blank, but a word of equal verbal poise.
“Nice language to use infront of you’re daughter sir, you’re wife must be proud,”
“I’m divorced Blanker,” Again, replace blank with insult of you’re choice.
“imagine my Surprise,”It was at that very moment moment, that something hit me as hard a Chuck Norris roundhouse kick... Well, okay, maybe not nearly as hard a Chuck Norris roundhouse kick, but pretty damn hard.
In closing, allow me to say, that not once was an associate mean or cruel to me, although that girl at the reception desk pretending she didn’t know English was close. But it was the vicious cycle of being made to feel unimportant, and unwanted, by the customers. There’s a stat that says 90 percent of customers are lost due to poor customer service, well, let me tell you this. 98 percent of employee loss, is due to poor customers. So please, I beg of you, next time you walk into your local Wal-mart, please realize that the people in the fashionable blue smochs are people too. We want to help, and we want you to be happy. So please, don’t treat us like we’re tools at you’re disposal. Or else, maybe we’ll leave some bleach out.
I just pulled it up after about two years, so I can't tell you about whether or not the grammar is right, but there's some stuff in there about history or what not.
I will also tell you that Wal Mart rarely pays it's associates minimum wage. the average starting salary for Walmart is about 9 bucks an hour for a part time cashier. But you earn it. It's always busy and stressful.
Facebook: MeekinOnMovies
Twitter: Twitter.com/MeekinOnMovies
My 10 commandments of game reviewing
7 Great Games Playing Watch_Dogs will remind you of/url]
Far Cry 4: 10 Essential Features it Must Have
10 Videogames Ruined By The Hype
I worked as an overnight stocker (the exact position was Grocery Receiving). There's two kinds of Wal-Mart stores (that I know of) by the way; "Division 1" which is just the clothing department and kitchenware kind of shit, and Supercenters which are that plus an entire grocery store. The store I worked at was a relatively new building, constructed three years before I worked there. It was replacing a division one store, which is where a lot of long-term employees came from. Including those on our shift.
The management was aware of one thing; the grocery side of the store, year round, is the hardest to keep up except for special events (Black Friday, Back to School Week, and the last two weeks before Christmas, and other short-term things). No matter how clear management made this to our staff, the department-side of the store was extremely condescending toward my side of the store. Thing is, almost all of the people working on that side were elderly or middle-aged women with all sorts of physical ailments. My buddy at that store, Marlon, worked there, and he was on that side of the store to be the muscle for everyone else. We weren't exactly understaffed on our side, but we only had about four people on our end (myself included) who actually gave a damn and tried to get things done. The rest were fodder who worked too slowly.
This is the first failing point of management; they weren't critical enough toward slow working employees. Nor did they have the balls to fire employees who were fucking awful. They were more concerned with having people to fill the positions than filling the positions with the best possible people. I'm not sure if this is a Wal-Mart specific thing though. It resulted in us good employees having to cover for the bad ones. And it sometimes meant people from the other side of the store having to come over and help us with our shit, which turned them into raving jackasses about how terrible we ALL were as opposed to looking at the ones causing the problems. They never even had to stock, though. They would only have to come over and help us 'face' the store, which meant pulling things up to the front of the shelves and having their labels face out for people to see; the trick with this is that pulling up just one of each item in each row was enough to satisfy management, so it was easier than it sounded. But I guess when you have to do it for a few dozen pickle jars, it seems like hell compared to making sure two or three frying pan boxes are pulled up front.
Our store was one of the places where a modern method of tracking inventory was being tested before implemented on a company-wide basis. Basically, any overstock we would end up with would be scanned by handheld computers and held on that system. Every hour (except during our shift) the system would put out an update to the handheld scanners on which items could go out to the floor. This is where the human problem came in; the people we had working this position often didn't scan things out, let alone scan things in (I caught a lot of heat once because my designated backstock bin was fucking FULL of things, but none of them were in the system; but this wasn't my position so... what the fuck management on that one). There was one girl working there who was the only one who gave a damn about getting it all right. She caught a lot of heat too, and it often came down to myself and the support manager coming to her defense. Thing is, this system also helped keep track of what we needed to order for nightly truck shipments. So, on the aforementioned problem where none of my backstock was in the system, it began this two-month long problem for me where I had pallets full of backstock for my aisle specifically, and rarely did any of it go out. Let alone it didn't help when more of that shit would come in.
See, someone comes in during the morning and scans any shelves that look empty or getting there when we're all through. That scanner would tell them if we had any of what was missing in the back. Because it would tell them no, they'd place the order for more. Even when I brought this to that manager's attention, she never stopped until I took it to her superior. Again, this may be a Wal-Mart thing or it may not; I attribute it to Tyler, TX being a shithole for employees.
For the most part, I was actually able to enjoy my time there. The pay wasn't exactly all that hot, but it was well above minimum wage (as far as Texas goes). The work wasn't too bad either. Sometimes there was pressure, but it wasn't some ambiguous task like "Make sure customers leave happy." And management was able to be understanding of times where the amount of work load wasn't doable by a single person in a single shift.
There's a metric-ton of stuff I'm sure I forgot to mention or clarify, so I might post again later with more.
Thanks guys!
And for those who think I'm not doing my research, I googled the shit outta the positive impacts of Wal Mart. I'm planning on making Wal Mart look like a god- kinda South Park like- but I figure if I sell the idea that Wal Mart is good, my professor will be amused.
I don't think its right to have 3 in one town, but it's nice to have at least one.
But none of those people that i've heard have worked there.
My coworkers wife works there. Been there 5 years, works the front end, makes 15 bucks an hour.
Ive been working in produce for 3 years at high scale stores. Right now I work at a gourmet grocery store doing produce- stocking 40lb boxes all day, working in a freezer, and getting soaking wet quite often. I make 8.16 an hour.
I'd give up my job at a gourmet grocery store, in a heartbeat, for a job at wal-mart.
are you guys unionized, get benefits, etc? that's a big difference between awal mart and other chain grocery stores. op coulddeploy all the stock anti-union args in his discussion.