writer John Persak, right, pickets the mini mart with supporters.
photo by Doug Collins
When I published the first employee newsletter at Lincoln Park Mini Mart where I work, I figured I'd get canned long before the place would see Wobblies on the pavement with picket signs, and a NLRB election in the works. As I write, the first IWW strike in 30 years is well underway, with a full endorsement by the King County Labor Council.
Clerking at a convenience store is one of the worst of shitwork jobs. It's no coal mine or meat-packing plant, but the reality of a pistol in my face, and having to deal with some of the rudest customers to walk the face of the planet can sometimes be worse than a sharp stick in the eye.
Then there's the tightwad owner, Jim, and his thug manager, Larry. Neither is very friendly about raises, and medical benefits are out of the question, even though it would only cost them a few hundred bucks a month.
So I joined the IWW.
The first employee newsletter broke the spell that bossman Larry had on everyone. For example, everyone thought that they were his special little one, a "good asset." When you got a little pay raise, say from $5 to $5.50, you were expected to not tell anyone else. The story went that the store isn't doing well, but since you are working so hard.... So you kept your trap shut. The newsletter proclaimed that folks should discuss work and that sucking up didn't have to be the rule.
Jessica, my friend and co-worker, was also fed up, and joined the Wobs when we realized that people were interested in changing things at the mini mart. When we hooked up with the IWW, we had been talking union around the store for about a month, and Mark, who signed us up, began helping us to organize. We invited coworkers to a potlach in the park, with the idea of openly discussing organizing with the IWW. We found two more supporters, Shane and Mona Lisa.
At the next meeting, Mark signed up the rest, and we ratified a letter to be delivered to Larry two days later, asking for voluntary recognition. That's when shit hit the fan.
Mona Lisa showed up to work right after Jessica and I dropped the letter off on August 8, and Larry started cornering people. Larry assigned extra work to me, like cleaning up piss-stained walls in the bathroom. Jessica was visiting me at work that night, and the boss's wife threw her out of the store, refusing to let me close until she was gone.
The next day we handed out boycott leaflets, asking customers to shop elsewhere until our dispute was settled. We had asked Larry to respond in writing, and he just ignored us. That day, the police were called on us for leafletting. The cops seemed annoyed that they were called, and left. Soon after, Larry changed our schedules with only 12 hours notice. Jessica had to finish up her night shift at 11pm, and show up the next morning at 8am. We went to the NLRB and filed unfair labor practice charges with the help of our lawyer.
The boss tried to bar us from talking about the union at work, and from telling customers. We walked out on August 26, protesting his unfair labor practices, and shut down the store for an hour in the afternoon. While we were on the picket line, the owner and the boss's wife kept driving up on the sidewalk barely missing us, and almost hitting Mark's two-year-old daughter. Business owners who were friends with the boss came down and started harassing us. One owner told us, "If you flyer in front of my business, I'll shoot you." We made a mental note to organize his place next.
We won two victories: the store closed down on Labor Day for the first time in its history, because there were not enough scabs to run it, and gas dropped ten to twenty cents, making it the cheapest in the city.
We filed for an election after being out for two weeks, and figured we could try to go back to work and ride it out. Fat chance. The store's hours were shortened so that the manager could scrutinize us every minute, and three union members had their hours cut as a result. Non-union people were relatively unaffected. The boss would hang out, reading Guns and Ammo, and glaring at us every time we mentioned the IWW or anything else about work to the customers. He took my keys away and would not let any of us count tills anymore. Mona Lisa's doctor told her not to go to work because of the stress.
Then a boot dropped. Mona Lisa had a letter served on her saying that if she didn't show up for work, she would be considered "voluntarily terminated." Shane got a letter also, Larry claiming that Shane had quit. We went on strike the next morning.
Another boot dropped. We started getting served with an "anti-harassment" order. It not only named us, but also two Teamsters who were helping us picket. The domestic violence unit of the Seattle Police started serving papers, even though a corporation is not allowed to use civil law in relation to a union. An immediate stay was issued by the King County Superior Court. Larry promptly withdrew the order.
With our election drawing closer, another boot dropped, this time one of ours. One afternoon about twenty cars showed up and filled the parking lot, and just hung out, washing windows and buying gas - 27 cents worth here, 19 cents worth there. Some read magazines inside, asking absurd questions. Within fifteen minutes, the gas pumps were being locked up and the store closed two hours early. The police were called and kicked people out of the parking lot, but folks still picketed on the sidewalk. We were laughing our asses off at the gas-in, and the boss has the video to prove it.
Things have just gotten worse since then. More harassment from business owners. One came down, riding his bike, and started cursing at us, ripping up our picket signs.
Some folks seem to be glad that the Wobblies have come back to Seattle. People are signing up like crazy, and I ran out of red cards to hand out. When we were at the King County Labor Council, some old unionists were bickering: "Hey, why don't those guys (us) stand up? Are they delegates?"
"No, they're visitors."
"Well, they should stand up anyway!"
"Hey! Those are Wobblies, you respect them!"
The body of the King County Labor Council endorsed the struggle without dissent - at least no one spoke up. And you know what? We ain't been fired yet!
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