I have a lot of stuff to say about my time in the food service. I won't go into too much detail, but here is just a list of stuff.
At the age of sixteen, I got my first job at a pizza chain. We called it Auschwitz, because of the ovens, but that usually understandably offends people. My boss sucked. Bad. It's unoriginal, but I'm calling her Bitch. Our assistant manager was Cow. Roo is the other manager. Blondie is the regional manager.
On multiple occasions Cow took a pizza I had finished and dumped most of the cheese off of it. She said the customer would not notice and that I was wasting product. Oftentimes, the customer paid $2.50 extra for that extra cheese. I never did stop doing it properly, and frequently got in trouble for following policy.
My school bus did not get home until 4:04. Bitch knew this. I could not make it to work until 4:30 minimum. And that was with no time to eat. Most of my weekday shifts started at 4. Of course, I got yelled at for being late all the time.
Even worse, I did not get breaks. Only smokers got breaks. The only way I was able to have dinner was by sneaking tidbits off the make line. Or by playing fetch for my boss. By running to the gas station next door, I could usually buy a pack of crackers and scarf them down.
One time, I made a pizza for a secret shopper. It came back scored really high. Who got the $100 reward? Cow.
I got blamed for screwing up the pizza box stickers in my first week. In all honesty, it was a driver who did it. But Roo was yelling and criticizing me so loudly and harshly that I burst into tears before I could mention that. He never apologized.
My boyfriend dropped by during work once. I was scheduled off an hour ago. He smiled at me sympathetically and went to the gas station so I could finish up. As soon as he was out the door, Blondie started telling Bitch about how he was so fucking creepy, and she's totally out of his league, and started going on about how he shouldn't have stared at her. When I mentioned it was my boyfriend, and he smiled at me, she laughed and spent five minutes criticizing my taste in men.
Carrying a giant bucket of Canadian bacon, I accidentally stepped on a driver's newly swept rug. He hit me in the back of the leg with a broom. It smacked hard enough to leave a mark. I threw a pizza in his face that I had in my other hand. I got written up, but it was worth it. I HATE when people hit or touch me without permission.
Nearly every shift, I had to stay one to four hours past my scheduled end time. They never asked if it was okay with me. I did it, or I was fired.
Somehow, it got leaked to Bitch that I was bisexual. No one in that store believes that's a valid thing. Many times she stood around making fun of me. One time, she said something about my best friend, who she happens to be neighbors with. When I said that she was my friend, she responded with "What? You take turns sucking cunts, dyke?"
I had no words. But I guess I should have been used to that. She called me stupid, loser face, and retarded on a daily basis. At least after that happened, she stuck to calling me homo instead of dyke.
I guess I should have also been used to the sexual remarks. Roo said offensive things all the time.
Bitch had a habit of leaving me alone in the store for long periods of time so she could go out to her car, smoke, and play Angry Birds. It was then my responsibility to answer phones, make dough, make pizzas, and catch pizzas all at once. When she finally came back in, she always told me how worthless I was because it was physically impossible to make twenty pizzas in under six minutes. I was doing my best.
I was a damn hard worker. If you called me in, or asked me to take a shift (As long as it was not Sunday), I was there. My pizzas were made top quality at a fast pace, and I was great with customers. In all honesty, I had to do that. If you refused a shift, she would cut your next week's hours down to two.
I called in sick four times. Total. On New Year's Eve I was working past my shift with a temperature of 103. I had to call off the next day because I was hospitalized. I was almost fired. Another time I had to leave work early and go to the hospital for severe abdominal pains. Almost fired. I threw up at work. Almost fired. One day I got a cultivating tool through my foot. Hospitalized. Almost fired.
Many times in the summer, flies landed in our barbeque sauce. Employees were told just to pick them out. The oven would kill the germs. Whenever one was cooked, it just got plucked off.
On a few occasions we had a customer come in and ask us to put a store bought can of green chiles on his pizza. I am highly allergic to them. Just the fumes make my eyes burn for fifteen minutes. I absolutely refused to touch them and said someone else had to do it. I was yelled at every time.
Cow found out from someone that I have Asperger's. A lot of the time I just kinda say things, unfiltered. It's embarrassing, and I try to avoid talking to people. For months Cow made fun of me. Usually in front of coworkers and customers.
Cow also liked to tell me my hair was bad. Because hey, she's a super successful stylist working at a pizza joint with ratty short hair. So of course she'd know. Cow sucked.
I spent two years there. This is really only some of the stuff that happened, but I feel this was getting too long. That whole time, I was getting paid minimum wage. And she refused to promote me time after time. I was too stupid to document anything. I did not think anyone could help me. When I quit back in October, it was the most liberating thing I have ever done.