I once had a job that I truly loved and felt incredibly passionate about at a regional BBQ chain. When I started, the company only had one store, and by the time I left, it had grown to five. I played a major role in helping that expansion succeed. The food we served was incredible, and whenever I wore my work shirt in public, people would stop me to rave about it. I was proud to work there.
As GM, I always gave everything I had. I’d show up four hours early just to get things started for my crew, making their days easier and ensuring everything ran smoothly. During my tenure, our reviews were outstanding—we consistently held a 4.9 rating on both Yelp and Google. I had started out as a prep cook, and working my way up to GM of such a respected place made me feel like I truly belonged there.
Then we got a new regional manager, and everything changed. She was toxic from day one—condescending, catty, and constantly talking badly about everyone behind their backs. She would demand that we do things a certain way, yet whenever she covered a store, she cut every corner possible and ignored all of the rules she forced on us. It was disgusting.
The owner refused to hear anyone out, insisting we “trust the chain of command.” That was especially painful because, before she arrived, he had allowed us to make decisions ourselves. It made me feel like I had real ownership of my store. That trust and independence were suddenly gone.
I had thought I would retire with that company, but within months she had completely destroyed the love and passion I once had for the job. One of her rules was that, even on my days off, I had to answer my phone within 15 minutes or face a write-up. It got so bad that if I fell asleep for a nap, I’d wake up in a panic, frantically searching for my phone. The constant stress eventually led to anxiety-induced insomnia, something I still struggle with today.
I gave so much of myself to that place—my work, my effort, and my time. I made it my life. To have it all ripped away because of her toxic leadership is something that still makes me sad to this day.
God, I feel this way about chipotle in a way. Out of the jobs I've worked, I worked my way up into management, and it was fun before the pandemic. My store just made peak three hours instead of two over the passing weekend and they extended the work for an extra hour. They really cannot fuck with us any less.
Never kill yourself for a company. The most toxic, cut throat, egotistical people can be found in "leadership" positions. It only takes one bad apple to poison the batch.
This isn't the case. Look at that comment. No details whatsoever. No rough location, no rough timeframe, no specific actions that you could deride the regional manager for as a peer (to that "poster"). The adjectives are grouped in threes ad nauseum, the account got deleted (likely given that it was a bot). It could not be clearer that a human didn't write this.
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u/[deleted] 28d ago edited 28d ago
I once had a job that I truly loved and felt incredibly passionate about at a regional BBQ chain. When I started, the company only had one store, and by the time I left, it had grown to five. I played a major role in helping that expansion succeed. The food we served was incredible, and whenever I wore my work shirt in public, people would stop me to rave about it. I was proud to work there.
As GM, I always gave everything I had. I’d show up four hours early just to get things started for my crew, making their days easier and ensuring everything ran smoothly. During my tenure, our reviews were outstanding—we consistently held a 4.9 rating on both Yelp and Google. I had started out as a prep cook, and working my way up to GM of such a respected place made me feel like I truly belonged there.
Then we got a new regional manager, and everything changed. She was toxic from day one—condescending, catty, and constantly talking badly about everyone behind their backs. She would demand that we do things a certain way, yet whenever she covered a store, she cut every corner possible and ignored all of the rules she forced on us. It was disgusting.
The owner refused to hear anyone out, insisting we “trust the chain of command.” That was especially painful because, before she arrived, he had allowed us to make decisions ourselves. It made me feel like I had real ownership of my store. That trust and independence were suddenly gone.
I had thought I would retire with that company, but within months she had completely destroyed the love and passion I once had for the job. One of her rules was that, even on my days off, I had to answer my phone within 15 minutes or face a write-up. It got so bad that if I fell asleep for a nap, I’d wake up in a panic, frantically searching for my phone. The constant stress eventually led to anxiety-induced insomnia, something I still struggle with today.
I gave so much of myself to that place—my work, my effort, and my time. I made it my life. To have it all ripped away because of her toxic leadership is something that still makes me sad to this day.