After Apple

They kicked me out right before I left.

I joined the retail division as a “creative,” some ethereal position where I was promised I would get to “create” all day (hence the name) and train people how to be create as well. I was so desperate to work for the company that I had always loved that I agreed to work part-time. I joined some truly amazing people, and some really obnoxious people.

The first few months, management didn’t know what to do with Creatives. If we weren’t selling, then we were wasting payroll, in their minds. Why we made more than a specialist is beyond me, if that were the case. Lots of discussions later, management left us alone to do what we were told by corporate to do.

Six months later, we get a new manager. The manager immediately plays favorites and changes things just for the sake of change — you know the type — alpha dog pissing on everything just to mark his turf. All the while, he played that fake-cheerleader rah-rah bullshit.

He invented a position (“lead creative”) that still doesn’t exist, and talked about nothing but numbers — how can I personally sell more .Mac? (This isn’t Best Buy, buddy; I’m not a salesman. I’m here to teach.) The person who was named “lead creative” was the one I called the “Creative on the Mount.” Enough said.

I begin to enjoy coming to work less and less. More cheerleading; more stupid changes. Spend X% of your time on the sales floor “fishing” for customers to bring back to the Studio; spend X% of your time doing this or that. Remove all POS except for one to make EasyPay numbers go up. Make sure there’s no POS or phone in the Studio. And make the old POS into a managers’ workstation. Hovering is good.

I was growing weary. I had written up a letter of resignation. But first, I had vacation time coming. So I took it. And I loved it.

When I came back, I was called into a meeting where I was terminated. Reason? Apparently I had used “inappropriate language in the workplace.” Huh?

No matter that genii friends of mine had used words that I hadn’t even heard of yet; never mind that management had described sexual conquests and fantasies in detail. I, apparently, was the patron saint of pottymouthedness.

I was a little irritated that I was now going to be “ineligble for rehire,” just as a point of pride, so I called HR for a review. Guess who they believed.

It’s a shame. I still love the company. I still love the profits. I still have great friends whocan buy things at a meager discount for me. But until the company starts getting retail managers that know tech, instead of managers from The Gap or Crate & Barrell — or Express — then it’s just a Wal-Mart with fancier merchandise.