To Whom It May Concern,
My name is Kimi Carter, and I was recently a loyal employee of Frothy Monkey in Chattanooga. Before I was ever on payroll, however, I was a regular who would come in multiple times a week to study and work remotely at our low bar. While there, I befriended many staff members behind the counter and always felt welcomed and appreciated. I was strongly encouraged by the staff to apply to become a server, which I did. I was drawn to this company because of the inclusive and warm culture I saw both during my time as a regular in Chattanooga and through friends I had in Nashville who worked at various locations.
As soon as I was hired, I entered with the confidence that, although this was my first job in the service industry, I could rely on the staff who had been there for years to help guide me kindly through this new experience. While there were issues under the previous management, the overall workplace environment was healthy and communicative. I always felt that any concerns I had (which were few and far between) were validated and taken into account, as well as supported by the other staff. I made some of my best friends and considered everyone in that building part of my family. As a family, whether we got along or not, we protected and took care of one another—a core principle of this company. Looking back on my time at Frothy Monkey, I don’t believe I would change a single thing, even after how I was treated toward the end of my time there.
During the transition to new management in August, many people who meant a great deal to me left. Whether their reasons were in solidarity with our previous GM, because it was no longer a sustainable fit, or simply because they relocated, I felt a deep ache when saying goodbye to those co-workers. We had endured so many long and disheartening days, and we learned how to communicate during times of distress. I knew that no matter what, these people had my back, and they knew I had theirs. It was a difficult decision whether to stay on a ship navigating uncharted waters or if I should cut my losses and take with me the relationships and community I had built. After much convincing, I persuaded those of us who remained that we could stick it out together. We compromised much of ourselves for the sake of each other, for the sake of the company, and for the sweet community we had built.
When our new general manager arrived, we were understandably anxious. We hoped that the blood, sweat, and tears we had put into this building and community would be protected—that we would continue to have a safe harbor to walk into every day, despite all that we were dealing with outside those doors. While I admit our welcome wasn’t with open arms, I will die on the hill that we kept an open mind. We were curious and excited to experience something that could potentially create a better managerial environment. At the same time, we were naturally hesitant to dive headfirst with someone we had just met—someone who took very little time to get to know us as people and more time to get to know us as roles that could be replaced at the drop of a hat.
My first seemingly authentic encounter with our new GM was at the end of October. She had just wrapped up her first month in the role, and I could see a positive impact (we had our basic goods stocked regularly—rejoice!). While sitting at the low bar off the clock, I asked her about a raise I was allegedly given by our previous GM, to which I was shut down and scolded for asking for “more than what [I] was owed.” She then proceeded to burst into tears and share with us the complications of her job—how she didn’t want the job, how the stress of managing two Frothy Monkey locations was overwhelming, how she was sacrificing so much of her life in Nashville to save our “sinking ship,” and how she didn’t feel particularly welcomed here. She explained how she was encouraged to flip the staff entirely, but that she did us a favor by letting us all keep our jobs. Overwhelmed with empathy, I listened and responded with kindness. I explained that we were simply afraid of losing all that we had built, but that overall, we had seen her efforts, and they had not gone unnoticed. I sat and listened as she made blanket statements about my friends, and I quietly and compassionately defended them, while reinforcing to her that she was respected and trying to reel in her clearly spiraling mind. I sat with her for hours that night, listening carefully, responding compassionately, and emotionally regulating my new boss—all while off the clock. I was happy to do so.
She offered me a shift-leading position, which I initially turned down. I didn’t feel ready for that responsibility yet and was enjoying my time as just a barista. She asked me on multiple occasions to reconsider. After a busy Sunday brunch, where I had spent the day managing the expo window with her fiancé in the kitchen, she asked me again if I would be a shift lead. She shared with me that her fiancé had commented that she “needed to make [me] a shift lead” and that I was “the best one in that building.” This acknowledgment was very moving to me. I felt seen for my hard work and dedication to providing a healthy environment for my coworkers. I felt empowered to lead. I agreed to become a shift lead.
Throughout the next few months, I spent many nights on the phone with my boss for hours, off the clock, listening once again to how much she didn’t want this position, was frustrated with HER bosses (higher management), how she didn’t feel respected by staff, how we all could have lost our jobs, but she mercifully let us keep them, and how I was her hardest and most dedicated employee. At the time, these conversations didn’t strike me as odd. I found it flattering and exciting that my boss took a special interest in me and felt comfortable sharing such sensitive information with me. I would always reassure her that they got the right woman for the job, that she was doing wonderful things, and that anyone who made her feel disrespected simply didn’t know her well. I encouraged her to reach out to staff members personally (as she was doing with me) to build healthy relationships. I went to bat for her many times during those few months. If I heard of someone having an issue with her, I would go to great lengths to defend her honor and clear up any misinformation that was shared.
As the busyness of the holidays ramped up, I gave more than I ever had at any other job I’ve had in my 24 years. On one particular day known in Chattanooga as Mainx24, we only had two people scheduled to close on what was anticipated to be one of the busiest nights of the year for our location. After opening that morning, a coworker and I decided to help the only two scheduled staff members close after they were told by our GM that she would be there to help. She did not arrive until an hour before we closed. My coworker and I helped close, off the clock, to help bring down labor costs. Our intention was purely to take care of our friends who were clearly exhausted by the time we got there. I once again defended our GM for not showing up when she said she would, stating that there could’ve been traffic from Nashville or that she could be going through something we were unaware of. I now see this day as an example of what her leadership eventually became: empty promises and operating in self-interest.
I continued to champion our GM through the holidays. I worked 12+ hour days, picked up as many shifts as I could to compensate for call-outs, and carried a lot of weight with a grateful attitude. The long, late-night phone calls continued, the mishandling of sensitive information about my coworkers and higher management was rampant, and I was fielding doubts about her leadership consistently. At my first and only shift lead meeting, HR and a member of higher management were present. We were told that, in the new year, we would all be given roles of specific interest (retail, money handling, training, bar, etc.). We were assured that we would begin “the first of the year” in our specific roles and have individual meetings about said roles. In this shift lead meeting, our GM called me her “hardest worker” and said I would be well fitted for the role of training new hires, as I was, as she put it, “a good communicator.” We were also told about our new Assistant General Manager who would start in the new year, and who had “experience in fine dining” (we later discovered that she previously worked at a counter-service, corporate chain restaurant).
I once again found myself feeling nervous, yet excited about another new manager. On her first day on the floor (another chaotic Sunday brunch), she took the liberty of seating a party of 35 and immediately after, seating a party of 20, without communicating with our kitchen staff or baristas. She accused our baristas of “not wanting to actually work” after I kindly suggested discouraging guests on the waitlist from ordering coffee drinks until the baristas were able to get through the 40+ tickets from the tables she had just seated. She told a guest there were three locations (there are nine) and made a comment to my coworker that there were plenty of people who left her last job who “would love to have [our] jobs.” There were a number of other concerns I had, but I decided to brush them off, as it was her first day. I did, however, contact my GM that evening to clear up any miscommunication that might have occurred that day. After another lengthy conversation, I was reassured that our jobs were safe, that we were hardworking, valuable employees, and that the bond we have as a staff is worth protecting. I was told that flipping staff was “not the Frothy way” and that we had nothing to worry about.
A couple of weeks into January, I had not heard anything about the new role I was supposed to get. I found this strange, especially since we had a handful of new hires who needed to be trained, but me and the other shift leads had not been made aware of this. I reached out to my GM via text, asking if we could have a conversation soon regarding training and some concerns I had about comments made by our new AGM to some of my coworkers (one comment was sarcasm about a coworker’s quick lunch before their shift and how “healthy” it was). During my next shift, I approached my GM, asking if we could have that chat. We went out back for a smoke. I was informed that a long-term employee had been terminated and that another long-term employee (our baker) was on her way out. I shared how nervous I was for the coming months, that I no longer trusted our new AGM, and that I didn’t feel respected in my position anymore. I was quickly cut off, and my community, which had been described as “the heart of this company” just weeks ago, was called “toxic,” “bitchy,” and “the worst thing about this place.” I was in shock at these words, and I no longer recognized the person sitting across from me. I was asked why I was at this job, to which I replied, “my people,” and was asked to list them off to her—most of whom she hand-selected herself to become shift leads. She confirmed that she was, in fact, planning on bringing in the people our AGM threatened to replace us with. I should have left this conversation the moment she shared that she “had been up since 4 am” and was “tired of all the bitching and complaining.” I had valid concerns that were immediately shut down and followed by a beratement of insults toward me, the company, and the community she promised she would protect. I sat and listened as my words were twisted and manipulated by the woman I had spent hours off the clock listening to and consoling. I was then told that I “was no longer a good fit at this company.” I clocked out for the last time, turned to my coworker in tears, and simply said, “I just don’t understand,” before walking out the doors into an uncertain financial future.
I felt deceived, blindsided, and failed by the woman I stuck my neck out for time after time. Someone I considered a close friend and trusted confidant pulled the rug right out from under me. I’ve spent a lot of time mulling over every detail, every conversation, every vulnerable moment I shared with her and I feel overwhelmingly wounded. I cared deeply for her, listened to her with sincerity and tenderness, and responded empathetically and authentically– I see now I was manipulated to be a tool for her. Two weeks ago I was being invited to her wedding, I struggle to wrap my head around this outcome.
When members of the staff learned of my termination, it came as a massive shock, as they all knew the nature of my relationship with our GM. I’ve gotten texts and calls from staff, old and new, offering condolences for the unfair situation I found myself in. While looking through documents to try to file for unemployment, I also learned I had been paid less than my fellow shift leads for months and am owed hundreds of dollars for months of unpaid labor. My best friend and coworker, who originally got me the job, was simply kicked off the scheduling app without a word from management. To this day, she has not been given a reason for this. She is now also unemployed with no rhyme or reason after three years working for Frothy Monkey. I suspect she won’t be the last.
My purpose in sharing this in a public forum is not to harm any individual but to use my voice against poor leadership that toys with people’s livelihoods after we have put our noses to the grindstone, abandoned our own needs, and sacrificed so much of ourselves for something we believed in. I hope my words can empower those who have sacrificed similarly to ask themselves what they are fighting so hard for, and if what they’re fighting for would fight the same for them. I hope my words can shift the hearts of the leaders in that building to invest in living, breathing, feeling humans, rather than simply meeting a quota. I hope my words can clarify the situation for higher leadership, who have likely only heard one unreliable narrative.
I am supremely grateful for the wonderful people I’ve met during my time at Frothy Monkey. I am overwhelmingly satisfied with the lifelong friendships I’ve found and will continue to invest in. My people have made this whole shipwreck worth it. I am heartbroken that this is how it’s ended, but I am taking with me the most valuable thing: the community we built, which has proven time and time again to be worth protecting.
xx
Kimi