Even though I was only there for a week, I heard and saw enough to make a pretty qualified decision to leave.
I was told about Beetlejuice included that he was far too stupid to run such a successful business without some outside help. With the success of the first restaurant, he opened a second one about 10 years back. I was open for a year or two, and seemed to be doing very well. Then one day, Beetlejuice landed in the hospital for a week with broken ribs, a bruised up face, and other complications. Apparently, he "fell in his garden". The second restaurant immediately closed. The rumour was the Beetlejuice didn't pay his bills on time.
A day or so after I heard this story, an adorable old man, who appeared to be about 150, came in. Let's call him Mo. Everyone knew him and shook his hand, making friendly small chat. I was introduced. He seemed super sweet and like someone of importance. I thought he might be Beetlejuice's grandfather or something. He ate and drank for free, as others fawned around him. I asked one of the girls who he was.
"Oh him? He's just an old drug dealer."
Say what?!
It seemed too crazy to be true, so I asked another girl to confirm. Her eyebrows raised. She gently shushed me, and asked who told me that. I listened in as she went over to the other gal and said, "Don't be giving the scoop about the poop."
The first girl asked, "About what?"
"Mo."
"Oh, I don't care..." she said flippantly.
"No, but she's new. You could get her in a lot of trouble."
The first girl waved it off, and headed to serve her tables.
Reality was hitting pretty hard and quick as I recognized that Mo wasn't the only character who came in and ate for free. The more I opened my eyes, the more I noticed the types of characters Beetlejuice lunched with. Y'know those stereotypical Italian restaurants you see in the movies? Yup. 100%.
After work, I walked across town and applied for a job with a vapour lounge. I knew I had an advantage, because I had the unique experience of working at Cannabis Culture in Vancouver - the hub of anti-prohibition activism in Canada - and had been given glowing references from the Princess of Pot & Marijuana Man. (I realize my activism experience will require a new post in itself. But that will have to come another day.) Happily, I was hired at the lounge the next morning. (FYI, I no longer work at the lounge either... In a nutshell, Toronto and Vancouver are very different cities. Plus, it was too dark and clubby, and I didn't like getting home after the subways closed.)
Anyway, after I secured a new job, that weekend I returned home to gather our stuff and les chats from my sister's place. From there, I called in and gave my resignation. The manager was kind, as I'm sure it wasn't the first time someone left after only a week.
Contrary to popular believe, despite my sweetness, I do have thick skin. Even so, life is too short to work with toxic people! Take your "great tips"... I prefer my sanity, thanks.