Short of staff so this had to happen; Sainsbury's manager

Four days off
and all she got was her own hair tucked behind her own ear by a manager she hardly knew and would newly fear.
‘Cos four days later when the holidays were pinned up
he mouthed across to her,
no one rejects my advances,
and with that a holiday off house sitting the dogs was disallowed by an umpire four rungs short of a manager in control,
four cocks short of cockless,
and lost of all thought-
reassess your stress levels, mate, and live well for less
but you won’t
'cos your too loveless for regrets;
forget and carry on and trip over toes in the process,
two wing-mirrors short of an MOT test,
missed and ticked and moved on
not returning
to say you’re sorry, didn’t mean it,
     but sometimes yearning holds on
     it clings and lingers more than pritt-stick on dumb fingers,
Rum Tum Tugger with a cause,
always lingers, never calls,
in the background, in the bakery,
smelling suspicious lately, looking like potpourri,
managing a Sainsbury’s store
worse than he should be.