Doing the job right doesn’t always matter when the people in charge only care about appearances.

One cashier learned that after spending two months trying to meet the demands of five different managers.

No matter how carefully she worked, someone always found a reason to criticize her.

Then, after one manager pushed her too far, she stopped worrying about quality and rushed through the work instead.

For the first time, the manager praised her speed.

Read on to see what she plans to do from now on.

I realized my bosses don’t want me to do a good job, they just want me to fake it. So I did

I had a massive epiphany at work today, and honestly, I just need to vent.

I consider myself a bit of an awkward person. I’m not spontaneous, I’m terrible at small talk, and my interests are super niche. On top of that, I have Multiple Sclerosis. Because of my MS, I move and talk a bit differently, which gives off an “uncanny valley” vibe to some people.

As a result, I don’t have friends, and frankly, I don’t even care to try anymore because it’s just too exhausting.

Up to a certain point, she expects people to treat her differently.

I’ve accepted that a lot of people will treat me with indifference or flat-out rudeness. It’s my normal. Despite all this, I have a very positive, “Disney-like” attitude. I try my best, I’m an absolute try-hard at everything I do, and I constantly worry about not being a burden to others.

When I got hired as a cashier two months ago, I gave it 110%. I wanted to do my job flawlessly and I was extremely nice to my coworkers.

Here’s the catch: I have 5 different managers above me in this store. Each one of them runs the place differently.

What one manager tells you to do completely contradicts what another wants. If you follow Manager A’s orders, Manager B gets furious at you. They are just generally unpleasant people, both for good and bad reasons. Yet I kept trying my best.

On this day, her manager stepped way out of line.

But today, my main manager was exceptionally cruel. She screamed at me, telling me I don’t think, that I do things mindlessly, and that I was “carrying heavy loads twice because I wasn’t using my brain,” all while aggressively tapping her temple with her fingers.

None of what I did was mindless. Everything had a reason. If I load a cart with merchandise, I have to unload it when I’m done. That’s a rule I’ve been following—along with all my coworkers—for the two months I’ve been here, even under her specific supervision. But I guess she was in a bad mood.

I immediately wanted to burst into tears. Fortunately, I was in the warehouse, so I let it out where nobody could see me. By the time I went back down to the floor, I was fine.

But then, she screamed at me again.

Regardless of what the manager said, she had been doing her job.

Today was brutally hot, the store’s AC wasn’t on, and the warehouse was a literal oven. Sweat was dripping into my eyes and soaking my shirt. The urge to cry hit me a second time, and every time I cried, my brain just started shutting down more and more.

Two hours before the end of my shift, she screamed at me again.

By this point, I had no tears left. My brain completely gave up. She was yelling that my coworker and I were taking eight hours just to check four shelves.

In reality, those eight hours were spent running the cash register, helping endless customers, baking bread, restocking the produce section, and dealing with crises like running out of bags, running out of coins for change, and a trash can literally smoking because someone threw a lit cigarette in it.

Then, it hit her.

But I wasn’t even trying to argue back in my head anymore. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

So, I filled the cart with the remaining stock, but this time, I didn’t do my job.

This time, I just glanced at the products, shoved a few things onto the shelves haphazardly, and dumped all the rest back into the warehouse.

My manager’s reward? She looked at me and said: “See? I knew you could move faster.”

And right then, it hit me. That’s what I was supposed to be doing all along. Instead of actually doing my job right, I was supposed to pretend to do it at an unrealistically fast pace just to look good in front of my boss.

Now, she understands exactly what she’s supposed to do.

Suddenly, everything made sense. I finally understood why the fresh milk always expires on the shelves (they put the newest bottles at the front to save time).

I understood why the back of the shelves is a disaster, with products crushed or falling to the floor (they violently cram the entire box onto the shelf just so they don’t have to bring it back to the warehouse, proving how much they “restocked,” regardless of whether there’s actually room).

I understood why there are so many broken items (when you rush that fast, cans, bags, and glass jars constantly drop).

Now, I have to go through a process of acceptance that will probably take me a few weeks. I know I’m going to cry a lot because I truly love my “rainbow world” where people are kind and things are done right. But eventually, I will mourn the death of that ideal, and I will accept reality.

I’m officially done trying. From now on, I’m just playing the game.

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Wow! That’s a sad reality for that store.

Let’s see how the readers over at Reddit feel about the whole thing.

Here’s someone in a different job with the same problem.

This is true sometimes.

Exactly!

If you enjoyed this story, check out this post about a man who is shocked to learn how little he has to do to keep his cushy remote job.

Another great point.

She finally learned that working harder won’t fix a workplace that rewards shortcuts.

When managers care more about speed than quality, employees eventually stop giving them anything extra.

Her boss wanted the shelves finished fast, so that is exactly what she got.

Unfortunately, the store will keep paying the price for that kind of thinking.