Why would a shift lead or a manager ever think they're entitled to a proper break?
I'm a shift lead at a fairly busy Walgreens in a well–populated area of the East Coast with a local demographic leaning heavily towards senior citizens and a customer base. The customer profile is shifted to reflect this, albeit less severely so as we also entertain the needs of the community as a whole which also includes a large observant Jewish community, commuters, and a more normally distributed set of suburbs nearby. Our store has one of the busier pharmacies in the state and our staff includes teenagers, seniors, and all between. I've been working there for four months after being self–employed for many years and my work history includes a tour in the Marine Corps (Terminal Lance, so nothing fancy), religious life, a few years in accounts management for a property management company, and a few years as a clinical nurse overseas as a nun before working for a decade as a public health consultant and researcher here in the States. I have a BA in history and philosophy, another in English and vocal (alto), an MPH, and an MTh. I've been around, but – and permit me to make this abundantly clear – none of that means jack whatnot. I'm a total Schmuckatelli with the GCS of a hamster on life support and the intelligence to match. I haven't worked retail in twenty years, back when I was an undergraduate, and that was at a used bookstore where I answered to an alcoholic, ma––––––a–smoking, bipolar nutjob for whom I still managed to show a profit every month without fail. All that being said, I've never seen an easier schedule with less demanding needs and a more forgiving attitude than I have at Walgreens. Count your blessings; and if you have to eat, do so over the evening paperwork.
Consider the following about being a shift lead at Walgreens:
You accepted a rank of responsibility and all that pertains thereto, yet you work for a company that pays you hourly (for some reason), does not allow you to work overnights to catch up, does not allow you to work off the clock, and trusts you not only to open and close but as well to be the sole person present with managerial authority.
You are responsible for IC3Rx, responding to codes from the registers, managing customer concerns, answering the telephone, and – if no one is trained to do so – filling photo orders and assembling products.
You are responsible for stocking the shelves, posting price changes, smart counts, screening and accepting receivables, sorting pharmacy deliveries, and managing the activities of subordinates with inventory–related responsibilities.
You are responsible for ensuring that queues never become unmanageable, that customers are happy, and that same–day orders are filled immediately and without error.
You are responsible for training subordinates and correcting both knowledge gaps and aberrant behaviour.
You are responsible for activities directed through the Compass portal and other sundry tasks your store, regional, or district managers detail you to undertake.
How dare anyone be disgruntled at the level of trust and responsibility to which you have been entrusted and through which you have a chance to prove your worth to yourself, your superiors, your peers, and your community? A meal break is the least of concerns. We're on our feet for eight hours or more every day. When meal breaks for cashiers and pharmacy techs come around at 1200 or 1900, we're responsible for their duties as well as ours. They have to come first because the customers have to come first: we are not in a position to ask of anyone the luxury of laziness. They're low–level employees for whom the panem et circenses of a half–hour chow break is a small price to pay to reduce turnover and prevent garnering the attention of some under–endowed, red–diaper baby with an inferiority complex to guide his government job where he sees it as his goal to come down on the private enterprise that makes our nation as great as it is and which attracts immigrants like myself to her shores.
How selfish can you be to want time off the clock for your personal weakness? We're not told we can't grab chow when time permits. There's no rule against cramming a few calories down your gullet while doing the ledgers at night or reading through Compass. I'd address the morning shift except with a day that starts as late as 0730 and guarantees you're home in plenty of time for tea and to make your husband his supper – if you're so lucky to have one who would put up with such a sense of entitlement – that there is no reason for you to have to break for mess in those eight hours unless you have some medical need that requires a full half hour of your day to add to the obesity epidemic for some God–unknown reason.
You do not take a leadership position without the willingness to be exactly that: a leader! We're the NCOs of Walgreens. We keep things running so the customers get from us what they need and desire, spend money, and generate revenue which goes to our paycheques. We earn nearly $30k to do a job that a retired lead–paint taste–tester with a brain injury could do. Instead, Walgreens does what any good organisation does: it asks us to give our best for others and take pride in doing so.
In humility, I need to make it clear that I sc––w up all the time. I never finish our McLane or warehouse deliveries by the end of the day. We always have overstock. I'm at least a day behind. If we were salaried or allowed to volunteer our time, I'd be able to make up for my shortcomings and to prove myself to be a worthy human resources investment, to inspire others to work harder, and to make my store manager look better to her superiors so that she and our store might fare better when the next budget allocation cycle comes. It's all connected and I beat myself up daily for my inability to do what is expected of me, as should all of you who complain like children deprived of their favourite routine. This isn't about us, this job of ours: this is about the customers we serve, our fellow employees, and those who have the misplaced mercy to employ such a gagglef––k of ungrateful, infantile, undisciplined rabble as so many seem to be. If your meal break is so bloody important, you need to rethink your priorities and the needs of those who depend on you to go above and beyond whatever it is you think this job entails.
In short: suck it up or go find someone to tolerate your bull.