Confronting My Manager

I have been working in produce now for about 15 months, and for the most part enhoy my job. I get along with all of the other produce employees and have become friends with most of them. Most of the guys I work with are parttimers, who either have another carreer, own their own bussiness, or are students, like me who because of hard economic times were forced to take up another job. So being that we all are preoccupied oustide of our parttime side job, we all have something in common and can relate to each others situation.

But there’s one person I have a problem with. I don’t like my new manager. She transferred over to produce manager about a month ago from being the cashier manager because of the slight pay increase. So naturally having no previous background working with produce, she is completely clueless. Normally I would have no objection taking the time to help familiarize her with the department and make her transition less difficult, but her attitude is abrasive.

This morning my manager came into work hungover. She did nothing but gripe all morning and didn’t bother to help us fill the holes or unload the load. She was angry that she had to work a Saturday morning and swore that this one would be the last time. Throughout the morning as I would scurry back and forth between the backroom and the sales floor I would catch snickets of emotional phone conversations she was having with her husband or be confided with complaints about how sick she was feeling. After about five hours of her not doing one thing, I got fed up.

“You shouldn’t get drunk the night before you have to go into work early” I said, confronting after an hour long debate with myself.
“Excuse me?”
“All you’ve done all morning is sit back here and talk about how sick you are. If you’re not feeling well, just go home.”
She then retreated into herself, the way a person does when they lose all form of justification for a disgraceful behavior, and sulks idly until they find something to retaliate with. And inside herself, after a seemingly interminable ten seconds, she was able to recover a counter that cowards often abuse; power. Instead of accepting that she was wrong, she retaliated against me by attacking my disrespect for authority.
“You don’t talk to a manager like that. I’m going to talk to Jeff about this.”
“Good. I’ll walk there with you.” I said forcing my stare upon her timid, yet authoritative eyes, until she broke the tension-bound stare. Her eyes were blinking at intervals and had raised her eyebrows so that her forehead was furrowed with six or seven jagged lines.
“Look I just want some respect from you guys.”
“How have we disrespected you? You are the one who came in hungover and hasn’t worked at all this morning. What the fuck is that. Just because you’re a manager doesn’t—“
“Look, I have a lot of shit going on in my life right now dude. I don’t need shit from my employees to complicate it.” She said interrupting me.
“If you can’t separate your personal life with your job, then your unfit for being a manager. Go home take care of your shit.”
“This is so fucked up.” She said briskly walking past me.
I waited until Jeff asked me into his office and told him departmental concerns, and admitted my in-house attempts to resolve an issue was somewhat unorthodox.
“Transfer her back. She has no business leading anybody.”