I have in my bill-fold a crisp $100 note, which is the property of the first person who can persuade Ruffin Slater, the General Manager of Weaver Street Market Co-operative, to:
A) Work my 8-hour, Monday evening, Southern Village Hot Bar shift. Just once. So that he can actually experience the consequences of the misguided and unthinking financial decisions that he and the other self-selected few make (not least regular demands for double-digit annual sales increases), in the corporate office in Hillsborough, NC, behind their combination lock, without any reference to the impact they have on the shopfloor, where all the money is actually made.
It would not hurt for him to remind himself that we are all supposed to be equal in this co-op.
B) Allow me to work a similar 8-hour shift in his job as General Manager. So that he can also be reminded that there is no-one in this co-op who is irreplaceable. Not him. Not me.
Oh. And if, after his work shift, he can look me in the eye, and convince me that he just had a fulfilling work experience (which WSM's Mission Statment demands), then I will pay for his dinner. Somewhere other than The Weave!
There. I've said it ...
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