Retail Hell Underground

Life In The Meat Department: Bitchy Old Ladies and Coworker Hell

Oh, herro!

I began my job at Mountaineers a couple weeks ago and it's been rather up and down.  I suppose I'm glad to be out of the restaurant business for right now, but retail is a very different animal indeed, and I'm still getting used to it.  

I work in the meat department, so you could say I know how to handle my meat.  (groan)  Our customers are anywhere from young students to rich people with one foot in the grave.  The latter are the worst, as you probably know from experience.  

I got screeched at by an old woman because she wasn't being specific with what she wanted and she expected me to be psychic. I've also been called stupid a couple times.  Ah, it's good to be working again.  

The cast of characters I work with are very interesting indeed, especially one guy who's about my age.  We'll call him Thespian, because he bullshits like a pro.  Thespian knows next to nothing about meat or cookery despite working at Mountaineers for a good 8 months, but he puts on a show like you wouldn't believe.  He has a very deep, impressive voice that he projects when speaking to customers over the counter (for some reason, he labours under the delusion that if they're on the other side of the counter, they're on the other side of the store and can't hear when he speaks normally) and often greets the customers with "Are you still TAKING A LOOK, or do you need ANY HELP?"  He is also very condescending when it comes to their choices or pronunciation.  One poor Asian man came in looking for ground chuck, and Thespian corrected him three times before helping him.  Despite his flaws, Thespian's fun to work with, and can be very funny.

There are a few people that I despise working with.  Here's some back story:  my boyfriend used to work in the same department at the same Mountaineers, and a lot of the people he worked with loved him and therefore are cool with me, but two people disliked him and have it out for me.  I discovered who they were on the second day of the job, because they didn't bother to look at or talk to me unlike everyone else.  I mentioned it to one of my trainers, who glanced over and told me basically not to expect anything from them, as they are douchebags.  I'll elaborate on them further in my next post.  Gotta get back to work.

Love, kisses, and filet mignon,

--TheBrit

 

The Brit: Surviving Tough Times

It's been a month.  

A long, awful, penniless month.  

I have applied just about everywhere that I possibly can, and you know how many people have called me back?

Two.  Two businesses.  

This economy is balls.  My boyfriend works at Pasta Incorporated, where I had my first interview last week (it looks good but they haven't called for a second interview yet.  Ugh) and he's up for his yearly review today.  His hours have dwindled lately, and it's gotten to the point where he can either afford rent or food - not both.  He's been trying to get a second job but finds himself in the same boat as I.  He's had one call back, from a grocery store located too far away from the house to get to.  

I don't qualify for unemployment benefits in this state, and I'm sinking fast.  Does anyone have any advice about what I can do?  

Love, kisses, and a moth-eaten wallet,

--TheBrit

A Coworker Nightmare Name Emo Barbie

Well, I'd thought I'd left all the petty bullshit at Slemslations, but apparently it migrates with me like some sort of fucking parasite.

My co-workers, for the most part, are absolutely lovely.  We operate as a dysfunctional little family, with our spats and annoyances, but for the most part we're all very close.  I work the day shift, and open the shop five days a week, and have for the past couple months without incident.  As at Slemsations, I was promoted fairly quickly and am shift manager at Pizza Pit, which basically makes me indispensable as a worker - I do all the paperwork, handle all the money, and am the only one allowed in the office.

Last night was Shanaynay, the night manager's birthday.  As such, she took the night off (she deserved it, she works amazingly hard and deals with drunks better than anyone I've ever worked with) and I was asked to take her shift.  I've never, ever closed before, much less on a Friday night when we close at 4am, so I was quite nervous. 

Shanaynay left me a list with everything that needed to be done, which I followed to a t.  The shift was incredibly fun - I worked with my best friend and one of my favourite drivers, as well as a good solid kitchen staff, and the bar rush went smoothly.  I made mad tips, and when 4 o'clock rolled around, I went around the store, list in hand, completing all of the computer tasks, cleaning and locking doors.  On the computer, I closed out the day, locked up and went home to sleep.  This morning (well, 3pm) I got a text from Bestie telling me that the girl who took my shifts was whining about everything that I did last night and was going to tell the boss.

Let's get some backstory on this bitch.  Emo Barbie, as she shall be known, is a fucking dumbass.  This girl talks a mile a minute when you attempt to explain anything to her, and she never fucking shuts up.  The rest of the staff hate her because she's impossible to train and inappropriately affectionate to everyone (she gave the kitchen staff hugs the second day she started work and they stared at me as she did so with a "QUE PASADO?!" expression on their faces) and the boss is so disappointed in her inability to do the simplest of tasks that she is only ever scheduled to close Sunday nights.  He decided to give her a chance this week by letting her take my shifts while I took Shanaynay's, and so I gave her my key and wished her good luck.

Fast forward to right now.  I get a text from Bestie saying that Emo Barbie is bitching.  I text EB to ask her what was wrong, and get a THREE PAGE TEXT MESSAGE telling me that I forgot to do all sorts of things.  She says she told Rude and that he's going to can me, and tells me not to text her anymore because it's immature.  The thing about me is that I am an incredibly chill person, but if you get me angry, then woe betide you.  She got me angry.  I sent her one last text message, containing only one word, a word that I despise and never use.  That word was "cunt".  Apparently Emo Barbie doesn't like that word much either, because what happened next was priceless.  I wasn't there to see it, but Bestie sure was, and I got a play-by-play.

Emo Barbie read the text message, responded "lol", then immediately turned to Bestie and started screaming at her.  Bestie had taken part in some green funtimes before going to work, so she was giggling the entire time that Emo Barbie was freaking out at her.

Customers watched in amazement as Emo Barbie proceeded to follow Bestie around the store, still screaming and ranting that it was all Bestie's fault, and Bestie was still laughing her ass off.  She then told me about this, with the follow-up that Rude probably didn't hear anything about what happened last night, because if he had, I would've gotten a call firing me hours ago. 

In any case, she will likely be kicked to the curb before me, since she freaked out in front of customers whereas I merely did a lot of angry dishes and cleaned my boyfriend's apartment.

Loves, kisses and revenge is a dish best served cold,

--TheBrit

 

Thanksgiving Scheduling Hell

Pizza Pit is still better than Slemslations.  That being said, there is something that's been bothering me about this place.  That thing is Rude.

My schedule is always the same at PP, which is awesome because that lets me schedule time with friends and family.  As Thanksgiving started rolling closer, I knocked on Rude's door.  "Hey, I just wanted to ask if I could have a couple days off around Thanksgiving so I can go back to New York."

His response was "No, we need you here."

That sucked, I haven't seen my mom since August, but I understand if the shop doesn't want to let me off.  He assured me that I'd have plenty of time to see my family for Christmas, since he knew that I was far from home and missing my family.

So I went on my merry way and did shop stuff.  He posted the Thanksgiving schedule a couple days ago (this would be Sunday of Thanksgiving week) and lo and behold, I had three days off.  In a row.  My father had already left by the time to go to New York, but I was angry.  I could've legitimately gone home, and spent the holiday with my family, but Rude hadn't told me ahead of time, and I didn't have money for a plane ticket saved up.  If this happens over Christmas, I'll be very angry indeed.

Otherwise, things are going well.  The way things go at the Pit is that we are very busy for a couple hours, then dead for the rest of the day.  At first, I took the manuscript for my book with me so I could do some much-needed writing, but Rude got very angry for some reason about the whole thing, so I was barred from that.  So I brought my knitting with me, and he approved.  At least I'm getting a lot of Christmas presents out of the way doing my all-day knit-a-thons, but it would be nice to be able to do something a little more intellectually stimulating.  My shifts are about 8-10 hours longer, and doing work for the shop takes up maybe a third of that time.  There's only so many times that I can wipe down tables and the pizza cabinets and stuff.  Ugh.

Expect a big Black Friday post.  It'll be terrible.

Love, kisses and the hell I'm getting turkey this year,

--TheBrit

 

Funny Custys At The Pizza Pit

Pizza Pit is still pretty wonderful, despite some bumps in the road.  But honestly, what job is awesome all the time?

I got some stories for you today - nothing of note has really happened lately, but I was making mental notes throughout my hiatus, and thought I'd sharesies.

1. Captain Obvi-boss

My boss, whom we shall call Rude simply because he is sometimes, has all the social skills of a boulder.  He doesn't really mean anything when he says stupid shit, it's just how he rolls.  

For instance, my boyfriend came to collect me from work during my first week because he's a sweetheart and the bus sucks.  My dude's a nerd extraordinaire, and recently dyed his hair a vivid purple.  He gets comments on it all the time (because it's fucking sweet) and Rude was no exception.  Boyfriend was chilling near the counter waiting for my drawer to be counted down so I could get the hell outta there, and Rude came out of the kitchen and stopped in his tracks.  

"Is this your boyfriend?" he asked.  

"Yep!" I replied.  

"His hair is purple."  

Then he just walked away.  

Thanks, Rude.  I hadn't noticed.

2. The Blind Leading the Blind

I posted this on the Facebook page a few days ago.  A group of blind people came for lunch - apparently they're part of a national group and their chapter meets at my restaurant every month or so.  

A woman and her husband came in first, followed by a man with a guide dog, and two other members.  They stepped up to the counter and asked for some Braille menus, then ordered a pizza and drinks.  

Our drinks are self-serve, and it took some creative directions on my part to get them the drinks they wanted.  As they went to pay for their pizza, the man with the guide dog leaned in close and said "I get a discount for being handsome, right?"  

I laughed and told him "Absolutely."

He then turned to the husband and said "Well, Nick, looks like you're outta luck!" His wife piped up indignantly and said "That's my husband, and I happen to think he's the handsomest man in the world!"  

"You can't see him, that's why!" the other man laughed.  

She leaned in close and whispered "But I can feel him and that's so much better."  

I had to walk away because I was laughing so hard that it was disturbing other customers.  They really were an amazing group of people.

That's really all I got right now.  I'm pretty tired lately - my hours are being increased, since one of the three counter people put in his two-week notice and I'm gonna be picking up weekends in addition to working 5 days a week.  Pretty damn lame.

Loves, kisses and someone needs to hire a new counter person,

--TheBrit

 

The Brit: Goodbye Indian Restaurant Hell, Hello Pizza Pit Heaven

Hey, RHU, remember me?  

It's been a few...erm....weeks.  I've had a lot of personal issues popping up, and I've had to deal with them all at once, which drove me slightly insane.  But, I'm better now, and full of stories about the Pizza Pit!

I quit Slemslations the day before I started at Pizza Pit, and had to fight them to get my money back.  D decided he was going to call me in the middle of my shift and order me to come and get my money, whilst I was still at work, and I called him back and politely told him that that was impossible.  So he told me to WAIT A WEEK and I would be able to get my $100.  Fuck that noise.  I went as soon as my shift ended and he made a fuss about it not being the end of business and he didn't have the money.  Some loud cursing in front of paying customers managed to change his tune, however, and I got my money and was free and clear. Yay!

Pizza Pit is a dream.  I do little to nothing all day but get paid awesomely for it.  And the regulars!  The regulars are amazing.  We're located somewhat near a rather famous tattoo parlour (they do all of Avenged Sevenfold's tattoos, which is SICK) and the artists will come down every so often for pizza.  One in particular is my favourite.  He's like the artists' bitch - he'll run down and pick up food for them, do errands and so on.  He'll stop and we'll chat about tattoos and my ideas for a little while, and he's always polite and friendly.  He was very excited when I came in to make my appointment earlier this week (WOO GETTING INKED NEXT WEDNESDAY).  We also get a lot of guys who work at the local bars around, and we converse about who's playing where, which band sucks, and once in a great while I'll give them free shit.  Needless to say, I've been rolling in tips lately.  I'm just so happy to have found a job that allows me to be sociable with people I find interesting.

The boss is a bit of a prick though, as all small business owners are.  He'll bluster and yell about almost everything, whether it's your fault or no.  He seems to love the shit out of me, but time will tell on that front.  Sorry this post is kinda assy, I'll write some better ones soon.

Love, kisses and a large two-topping pizza for only $11.50 plus delivery fees,

--TheBrit

 

Escaping From Indian Restaurant Hell

Hel-LO RHU!

You'll never guess what. Actually, those of you on the Facebook page will guess what, but everyone else, GUESS WHAT?  

I have a new job!  My dearest friend called me up to tell me that her employer had asked for me personally to man the counter at Pizza Pit, and could I start immediately, at a much higher salary than what I was getting at Slemslations?  I told her that she could bet her sweet ass I could and today is my first day.  I'm ever-so-happy.  But don't worry, this won't be the last you hear of me.  Pizza Pit caters to the after-club crowd, entitled students who think they're hot stuff because they go to one of the Big 10 and their parents send them $150 just for farting in the right direction, as well as hippies and Occupy people, so stories will indeed be forthcoming.

But let's talk about Slemslations.  I'm still working there for right now, just in case Pizza Pit doesn't work out, but if all is well at the end of the week, I'll be telling them to fuck off.  And you know what?  I'll be the third to do so in the span of a week.  

Last week Fairy King and I worked together nearly every day.  It was a wonderous thing - we would sexually harass each other in the kitchen, belt showtunes at the top of our lungs while setting up the dining room, and essentially be complete bosses during service.  He and I have always worked well together, but the management has a problem with him (I'm guessing there aren't a lot of openly gay men in India) so he didn't work that often.  

One day after a shared shift, he and I drifted off to the party store that we usually give our business to. There is an amazing woman who runs that place and she treats us like we're her kids.  Seriously, sweetest lady ever.  While we were buying our cigarettes and making our small talk, I got a text from Darla, asking if we could hang out.  Since Fairy King, Darla and I are very close, I was only too happy to tell her where we were, and she scooted right over.

The first words out of her mouth were "I think I want to quit Slemslations."  This was completely unexpected.  Darla is one of the best servers Slemslations has, and has always been treated with far more respect than any other server besides Metalhead is shown.  Her major problem with it was money, of course.  Turns out that they haven't been paying poor Darla, and her rent is due.  She figured she'd get her training money (all $100 of it) and be able to make up the difference at her new job.  We went back to Fairy King's to chill out, and while he was...um...relaxing in a totally legal way, his phone rang.  It was Special Snowflake, his roommate!  She basically barked at him that he wasn't working at Slemslations anymore, he was working at her restaurant, where he would make $350 a week without any funny business.  Since we were all fairly...relaxed, this was the funniest thing in the world to us, and Fairy King told Darla that they would go in and quit together.  So off we toddled back up to Slemslations.  I retreated to the party store because I wasn't yet ready to quit, and they told me what happened afterward.

Fairy King they let go without a second thought.  Darla, on the other hand, was treated abominably.  D was yelling at her, like "how could you do this to us" and Chef just sat there laughing the entire time.  They blamed Special Snowflake (whom Darla has met once) for influencing her to quit, just like Fairy King, and then they told her she had to wait two weeks to even get a sniff of her money.  Long story short - Darla ended up going back and still works there.  Poor girl, just when she grew a backbone, it broke.  But that night, a new girl I've never worked with ended up quitting herself, so Slemslations is still down by two.  

I'm nervous about quitting, now that I've heard both their stories.  It could either be totally relaxed, or it could be yelling and screaming and dramatic pointing and accusations of betrayal.  We'll see how things go, I guess.

Love, kisses and Halloween baking,

--TheBrit

Waitress Writes About Love and Pride For Waiting Tables

My last few posts (OK, all of my posts) have been really negative, and for good reason. But I am here to tell you today why I actually love my job at Slemslations.

By nature, I am a pleasant and happy motherfucker, and I always give service with a smile on my face.  There is nothing more that I love to do than stand and talk with my customers about their lives.  I've always loved hearing people's stories (mostly why I'm going into history) and being a waitress is perfect for meeting new people.  I've learned a lot about what life is like in post-colonial India, on both ends of the spectrum.  Our chef came from poverty in Delhi, whereas our manager came from an upper class family in the Punjab region.  Being British, I was always told one side of the story in my primary school geography lessons, but talking to them has really opened my eyes.

There's also the fact that I adore food, from all countries.  Indian food is near and dear to my heart, and working at Slemslations, I get to eat a LOT of it.  I've tried so many different dishes that otherwise I wouldn't have access to, being broke-ass as I am, and that's a big perk to my job.  Not only do I get to shove new kinds of food into my cakehole, but I get to tell customers what they might like.  A lot of customers will ask me for recommendations, and while they usually go for what they know (korma or tandoori chicken) some ask me to introduce them to dishes that they've never heard of before.

Heart-warming story number one: One customer last week during dinner pulled me aside.  "Miss, I've never eaten Indian food before," she whispered after her date excused himself to go to the bathroom.  "What should I order?"  I opened her menu and pointed out several of our more popular items, including things from the entire spectrum of mild to blazing hot.  She chose a yoghurt-based dish, lamb methi, and at the end of the night she pulled me aside again and thanked me profusely. 

By being kind and spending that extra five minutes, I not only satisfied the customer, but ensured her repeat business.  She came in today for the buffet with her date from the other night and happily stuffed her face.  Gave me a nice tip too!

Heart-warming story number two: Speaking of dates, this was hilarious.  I may have already told you this one, but it bears repeating simply because it was one of the better experiences of my life.  

A guy and a girl, obviously on a first date, come into the restaurant. The chick is dressed to the nines, looking absolutely beautiful, and the guy has taken care with his appearance and is freshly shaven and Drakkar Noir-ed.  They are a really cute couple, and there is that initial awkwardness with the ordering of food and small talk and such.

She orders a garlic naan, as does he, and I quip "Man, that's gonna be gnarly when you make out later."  She looks at me and blushes, but he says "You know what, let's just skip dinner, Trish.  You and me, bathroom, ten minutes.  Let's get garlicky."  

I turned away and laughed so hard that my manager thought I was crying and went "WHAT'S WRONG" really loudly.  They left hand-in-hand and came in a couple nights later, looking extremely couple-y.

In a nutshell, I adore waiting tables.  It's not gonna be what I do for the rest of my life, but until I get my Ph.D, I'll be more than happy to stay in the restaurant industry.  My employers, no matter how much they may piss me off or how much I may piss them off, know that I'm good at what I do and that I will stay loyal to them until my time there is ended.  So, people stuck in retail hell, try to look at the sunny side of your job. Nothing is all terrible!

Love, kisses and a really fantastic mood,

--TheBrit

 

Restaurant Hell: Harassed For Smoking

I've been hitting Craigslist and the streets of Semi-Major City for about a week now, but so far not so good.  Being a New Yorker and lacking a car seems to severely damage my chances at getting a job in Michigan x.x

I got scheduled for 3 days this week at Slemslations.  I figured I'd hold onto this job until I could find a new one, because I can't afford to be unemployed right now, so I've toughed it out.  I got pretty sick over the weekend with a hellacious cold, and showed up to work Tuesday sniffling and sneezing.  I was immediately sent home.  I can't say I blame them, no one wants Typhoid Mary for a waitress, but the kick to my wallet really made me mad.  So yesterday I went back and worked my full shift, feeling slightly better.  Over the next few hours, D told me it was "rude" of me to blow my nose (in the bathroom) or cough (into my arm), and that if I was sick, I should never have come to work.  I really want to live in the world that D lives in, where people have the luxury of sick days, but with $180 debt to my father and college starting in a few short months, I can't afford to stay home and rest.  He grudgingly paid me $32 yesterday, then we fought.

"D, if you're not going to schedule me for more than 2 days a week, I have to find a new job, and I really don't want to do that," I said casually.

"WHAT?!" he screamed.  He then went into a long rant about how I needed to prove my worth as a server in order to get more shifts, something that I have done again and again.  He then told me that I have little to no potential to be a good waitress, because (get this) I smoke.

D, 9 out of 10 restaurant workers smoke.  Maybe not in India, but in the United States and definitely in Great Britain, people puff them cancer sticks in order to deal with the hell that is food service.  When I worked in New York, I knew waiters who would pop Addys or snort coke before their shifts.  It was simply a fact of life that most restaurant owners accepted.  My cigarette breaks are few and far between, usually 2 a shift, and even then for only 5 minutes or so.  I had actually stopped cigarette breaks the week before in order to curry favour, but he hasn't let it go.  

I almost, ALMOST, told him to fuck himself, but I stopped myself just in time, trying to remember that I needed the money more than I needed to tell D that he was a sack of monkey shit who couldn't get laid if he paid double to the oldest, skankiest whore in Michigan.  

So I ended up saying "FUCK!" and sitting down, waiting for Fairy King to get his money so we could go Gleek out at my house.  D then proceeded to talk to Fairy King about how people don't value work (as I'm sitting right there) and how fat people don't move fast enough.  I'm a size 16 and starting to get thinner, and my weight is an extremely sensitive subject with me, and I almost cried and quit on the spot.  But again.  Can't do that.  So Fairy King just gave him a bitchy look and we left.

Fuck this place, seriously.

Love, kisses, and resumes,

--TheBrit

 

Decision To Leave Indian Restaurant Hell

I am hungover.

Let me tell you why.

Special Snowflake (remember her?) threw a party last night with Fairy King at their place.  Amarth picked me up on his way from work and as I got into the truck, he did two things: one, he asked me for a cigarette, as usual, and two, told me that my name was no longer on the schedule.  He had asked D if I was fired, and D never gave him a straight answer.  

The last shift I had worked, D only had criticisms for me, and pulled me aside in the middle of the shift to tell me that he was going to put me back in TRAINING.  On LUNCH SHIFTS.  You have to understand at this point that I was the one to train this motherfucker to do his job, and the fact that he tells me I'm not doing mine made me rage-cry.  He kind of looked at me in disgust and told me it was nothing personal, except that it is.  Chef is going around telling everyone that I'm a slut (which is hilarious since every male I associate myself with is a raging homosexual) and that I can't be trusted, what a bitch I am and how I'm so terrible at service.  That very night, a lovely older couple came in, and I was their waiter.  They left me a thirty percent tip because of my service.  Logic, where are you?!

So I went to the party and got completely drunk off my ass.  Now today I'm hungover and looking for a new job.  I may have to find a new place to live too - currently I pay rent to my father and I'm behind $250 because of Slemsation's shenanigans, and he is ready to kick me out if I'm unable to pay him.  If Slemslations even makes noises about not paying me what they owe me, I will bring the wrath of God down on their head so fast that they won't even know what hit them.

Wish me luck.

Love, kisses and a pounding headache,

--TheBrit

 

Moment of Happiness Experienced During Indian Restaurant Hell

My Sunday was not fun.  During the shift, Chef had not spoken to me once except to rudely say I dropped a napkin.  

I asked Metalhead what was up and he kinda looked at me sideways before saying "Chef says you need to focus on your work more.  I think that's utter bullshit since you're doing fine."  That made me pretty mad.  I've been a rock for that restaurant through all kinds of shit that they've been dragged through, what with theft and turnover like you wouldn't believe, and each shift they call me in for, I come in and work, without exception.  Chef and I always got along too, so I was honestly very hurt.  He came into the dining room as I was setting up, and I said "Hey Chef, can we talk for a second?"  "You wanna talk to me?" he asked.  "Yeah."  "Not now, I'm VERY busy."  Then he walked away singing.  That was the last straw.  I had to put in music before I started crying like a little bitch, so I finished what I was doing and left.

Today also started out as a really shitty day - I'm fighting off a sinus infection and boys are stupid - and I wasn't really looking forward to shlepping to work to have to deal with Jimmy and D and Chef.  

I got there at six, and Darla greeted me happily, as she does.  I was chugging green tea like a boss, and put my things behind the bar when she slipped next to me and whispered "do you know that Jimmy quit?"

I swear to God that if the heavens opened and Jesus himself came down and gave me a high five and a plate of cheesebread, I wouldn't have been happier. Apparently Jimmy is going back to New York (he says he got a job in Long Island) and was still in the kitchen, absolutely drunk out of his mind, and when I was outside having a smoke, he staggered toward me.

"You know, Brit," he grunted.  "I like you, and you're a very pretty girl, but you're a bitch.  You have serious ego problems.  Do you have a boyfriend?"   

I so don't but I immediately invented the most gorgeous boyfriend you could ever imagine and told him we'd been dating for a few months.  

"Well...you should ditch him and come out with me sometime, if I stay here."  

It took every cell in my body not to laugh, and I said something along the lines of having to go back inside and taking care of my tables. So I fucked off.

The rest of the night was not so great.  We are out of almost everything - eggplant, lamb, most of our kebabs, and customers were not happy.  A couple tables actually walked out, as did a woman who had ordered a takeaway.  I was swaying dangerously throughout most of service, due to a lack of food and generally feeling fucked up, and D snarled at me that I should have stayed home and called in sick rather than come into work.  I'm a waitress.  I have no health insurance in the state of Michigan.  I cannot AFFORD to call in sick.  Asshat.

So just as I was set to leave at 8.30 as per his instructions, he pulled me and Darla aside. "Turn off the open sign and start locking the doors." Yep.  We closed down in the middle of dinner service.  

It could be because the kitchen never bothers to order food anymore, it could be because he decided to send me home then realized he'd actually have to work, don't know.  But it was crazy.

Darla and I are going out for drinks and dinner now to celebrate the demise of Jimmy.

God I'm happy.

Love, kisses and triumph,

--TheBrit

Update on Shenanigans At Indian Restaurant

From TheBrit:

I've gotten a lot of requests for updates from commenters on my last submission, and while I'm sorry, Bitch Boy, that I can't take video for you (stupid old-ass phone) I'll try and describe it the best I can for you.

Metalhead, Jimmy and I worked together the night right after the one I told you about. Jimmy has stepped into his full managerial duties (i.e being a complete asshole to everyone about everything) and this is rubbing the wrong way on Metalhead, who has been with Slemslations for two years and pretty much runs the place despite incompetent managers and P's extended absences.  

When we get to the restaurant for dinner, generally we set up expo first, then the bar area, then make sure that the dining room is taken care of.  These tasks are usually started by the first person to get there, and as people trickle in later, they help out.  Oh no, not under Jimmy's watch.  He has made it known that he and only he will ever touch expo, ever, and if we set it up he will get very angry and start screaming curses out of the asshole that he calls a mouth.  So I'll set up the bar which takes about five minutes at the most and stand around like an idiot for the next twenty-five minutes before we open.  Metalhead got there and looked at me standing at the bar, looked back at Jimmy who was striding around expo like a ringwraith, then stood next to me and shot the shit for a while.  Jimmy let me know this was unacceptable by glaring at me and muttering shit.

He has now decided that we are doing napkin flowers, which is the most ridiculous shit I've ever seen in my life.  Instead of rolling silverware, which is convenient for the guest, we put napkin flowers in the water glasses and set the table as one would at a family dinner table.  This is awkward as fuck, because when I seat a guest and give them water, I am unsure of how to go about it.  I mean, I could take the napkin out myself, but that might be rude, so usually I wait for them to do it.  He also insists on running expo, which he does poorly, so Metalhead or I would have to step in and call out orders and ask about tables.  

He's gotten better since then actually, because I think Chef had a talk with him about the way he comes off on people.  So as we were doing lunch one day, I asked him where in New York he worked.  He told me Sardie's on Broadway.  If you know New York at all, or have watched the Glee episode where they go to New York, you will know that Sardie's is a restaurant that notable actors go, and is generally a place to see and be seen.  I curiously asked him where that was to see if he actually knew where it was.  He told me it was on Madison and Third.  Wow.  He also told me he had worked at a restaurant on 110th and Pacific.  I think he was just throwing addresses at me in desperation.  He also told me he lived in Manhattan while waiting tables, so I asked him how comfortable that cardboard box was, and that if he ever wanted to go back I knew of some unclaimed spots near the Lincoln Tunnel.  He stopped talking to me about New York after that.

One last tidbit of fun for you:  We are being investigated by the United States Department of Labour.  Yesterday during lunch I was called into the lounge area to talk to a lady that I had assumed was the accountant for the restaurant, and interrogated about how much I was making and the working conditions.  I told the truth, of course, and so I'm sure that there will be a full going-over of security cameras and the like. Hopefully I don't have to go back on the job hunt.

--TheBrit

Trainee Nightmare Continues At Indian Restaurant

From TheBrit:

Last night I lost my shit.

We have ANOTHER new trainee.  

Trainees 1 and 2 were let go, and a third one never came back after his first night, so I'm left with 3, now called Derp, Darla, another trainee that I won't bother to name so she'll be 4,  Metalhead and Amarth.  

Big Bossman jetted in from Ohio the other day, bringing a tall, old, grumpy-looking dude in all-black with him.  He gobbled at the manager D in Hindi, patted the Grim Reaper wannabe on the back,  then went on his merry way.  The next day, he began work.  Jimmy, as we shall call him, claims to have worked in New York City for several years.  I am from a town not too far from the City, and many of my friends come from the New York metropolitan area.  If this guy worked in the City at all, then he must have been bouncing from restaurant to restaurant because no one that I know would have put up with the attitude and incompetency that this shit-for-brains has.  For lunch, we have a buffet, so there wasn't much of a need for interaction.  Dinnertime was a different matter.

Metalhead, Darla and I were on the schedule for last night.  We're pretty much the dinner shift dream team, and we all get along famously.  Darla's become one of my best friends and I absolutely love working with her.  When we consulted the schedule, Metalhead was absolutely mystified.  Jimmy has been put on a double every day this week.  That's 12 shifts, 60 motherfucking hours.  Metalhead's shifts have been cut, as have mine, but he's going into the Navy so he was absolutely delighted.  He informed me that since there were already going to be 3 of us on tonight, he was going to waltz home and lift weights or something.  Darla had a look in her eye that I didn't like, and I asked her what was wrong.  She told me quietly, "Please don't let Metalhead leave."  Oh shit.  But too late, he was gone, and we were left...with Jimmy.

Darla took me aside for a few moments as we were setting up the bar and told me some unsettling things about our pal Jimbo.  Trainee 4 is apparently a sweet girl, hadn't worked much in a restaurant before, and was learning quickly.  It was her second night and Jimmy's first.  She was following Darla around, helping her with tables, when Jimmy manifested in front of her and screamed "YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO TAKE TABLES!  YOU'RE POSSIBLY THE STUPIDEST PERSON I'VE EVER ENCOUNTERED!"  

Darla and 4 were stunned, and 4 was quiet for the rest of the night.  I was on my day off, unfortunately, otherwise I would have taken care of that pretty quickly.  So if 4 comes back, it'll be a goddamn miracle.  Darla also said that Jimmy has been rude to her personally, and customers, and she knew for a fact that he was going to be rude to me.  I told her that if he was, I would handle it.  

So commences dinner.  It's slow at first, and we have a reservation for 8 at 6pm.  I casually ask Jimmy if he would like to take them, since Darla and I already have a table, and he snaps that he already has a section and waves at 4 booths and a 2-top.  All of which are completely empty.  He's been fucking around for about an hour, straightening things and looking malevolent, and so I suggest to him that he roll some silverware, as we have none.  

"YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" he screeches.  

If you are familiar with Kelly, the dude-chick who sings about shoes on YouTube, you will be familiar with the look I got on my face and the "I'm gonna betchslap you shetbag" that almost came out of my mouth.  

Instead, I said calmly, "Oh, but I do.  I'm shift-leader, and you have been here two days.  Roll the silverware."  And I walked away.  He was absolutely fuming, and of course didn't do as I asked, but that wasn't the most important thing right then.  I was telling him, not in so many words, that I didn't care if his dick was longer than mine, I still outranked him.  But the story doesn't end there.

Because I'm a bitch, as soon as we started getting busy, I threw customers into Jimmy's section.  At any one time, I had 2 tables, Darla had 2 tables, and Jimmy had 4.  Things slowed right down around 8, and the restaurant was empty but for 3 tables.  I noticed that Jimmy hadn't been bussing tables, which looks awful, particularly if the tables have been empty for half an hour.  So at the pass, I turned to him and said "Jimmy, bus your tables."  He whirled around and screamed, once again, that I don't tell him what to do.  That was it.  I'd had it. 

I am the sweetest bitch ever.  I have never gone off on anyone like I went off on Jimmy.  "BUS YOUR GODDAMN TABLES.  WHAT THE FUCK MAKES YOU SO GODDAMN SPECIAL THAT YOU FEEL YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE TO BUS?!"

He looked amazed but still wanted to argue.  "You don't tell-"  

"BUS. YOUR. TABLES."  

"You're on drugs!"  

"BUS YOUR TABLES OR YOU'LL WISH YOU WERE ON DRUGS."  

I then went for a cigarette.  When I came back, he had pulled D and Chef aside and was babbling at them in Hindi, pointing at me.  So I approached them, stood squarely in front of them, and said "Hi."  

Jimmy was hissing "She needs to be fired" at them.  Unfortunately for Jimmy, he doesn't know the history of our restaurant.  I've stuck through thick and thin with Temptations, working doubles for them when we literally had 3 servers at all, taking pay cuts when we didn't have money, cheering people up when they were having a bad day, and making sure new trainees knew what the fuck they were doing.  

D looked at him and said "She's not going to be fired."  

He then said some bullshit at me about having to work together, you need to be friends, blah blah blah.  Jimmy tried to interrupt a few times but I told him to shut up.

D looked like he wanted to laugh but he didn't.  When I went outside, he came with me and told me that Jimmy was on a contract with Big Bossman, and he was on trial for this week.  If he didn't work out, then he was going to be carted back to whatever hellhole he came from.  

That made me smile, because he has had a problem with every single person who works there.  Without exception.  And Metalhead works with us tonight.  I sincerely hope Jimmy tries to pull this shit with him, because Metalhead will take him out, no questions asked.

Love, kisses and rage,

--TheBrit

 

EnitledTrainnee Gets Touchy

From TheBrit:

It's been a fun-filled week here at Slemslations.  Let's see here....

Firstly, Special Snowflake worked her last shift on Tuesday, and promptly invited the entire waitstaff to her house to have a kegger to celebrate no longer being at Slemslations. Most of the staff was mortally offended and didn't go.  I was at a different party so I didn't hear about it til the next day, and had a good hard chuckle about it.

Now to my major rant.

Trainee 3 is seriously on his way to an injury.  I bitched about this on the Facebook page yesterday but didn't go into too much detail.  Trainee 3, if you remember, is a jumped-up little prick.  He absolutely loves to speak in Hindi to the cooks and manager in front of the non-Indian staff, wears designer clothing to work, and walks around with an air of entitlement that really gets up my nose.  

The last straw, however, was yesterday's service.  

The first thing he did when I got to work was inform me that I was late (by 5 minutes) and that he didn't think it was a good example to set to the trainees.  He then commented that he felt he wasn't a trainee anymore, and that he considered himself on a level with me and Metalhead because of his good work ethic (wait, what?  This coming from the boy who said "I don't really think that sweeping AND mopping are necessary"?!)  

I just kind of gave him a look that told him he was delusional and started to set up everything, directing him and 2.

trainee 3 didn't like that, however, and loudly started telling us what HE thought should be done, rather than what I was trying to teach them.  I pulled our GM, D, aside and told him that if he didn't shut 3 up, then I was going to do it for him.  

D assured me he was going to take care of it, and said something in Hindi to 3 that of course I couldn't understand, but 3 looked pissed off.  

An hour or so later, we were busy, and I was on my way with a credit card in my hand to cash out a table.  He attempted to take it out of my hand, insisting that he be the one to do it.  

As you recall, our restaurant has had a problem with stealing, and I wasn't about to let a green kid, with no experience and who has been with us for a week tops, to be allowed access to the cash.  

So I told him to go do something else, that I had this covered. THIS FUCKER PUT HIS HANDS ON ME.  Not in any sort of threatening way, but he grabbed my arm to try and get the card.  

I have a thing about people touching me.  It bothers me.  I got my arm out of his grip and told him to never touch me again then went to cash out the table.  If he doesn't stop, I will move Heaven and Earth to have this boy fired.  I'm not managerial enough to sack people sadly.

--TheBrit

 

 

Restaurant Hell: Trainee Troubles

From TheBrit:

The trainees at work are starting to slowly drive me insane.

At Slemslations, we are down to three "veteran" staff; Metalhead, myself and Amarth, who has been there a whopping 3ish weeks.  So, since all three of us can't work doubles every freaking day, there has been a massive hiring flux.  

Last night we had three trainees, who I won't bother to name because I doubt they'll be here very long.  So they'll be called 1, 2 and 3.  1 and 2 are girls, 3's a boy.  

1 is actually a fairly good worker, having worked at Wendy's before she came to us, so it's been a pleasure teaching her how to do things because she'll do them without complaint and usually get it right the first or second time.  She's 5 years younger than 2, who is 22 and doesn't seem like she's ever had a job before.  

At closing last night, Metalhead asked 2 to sweep the dining room really well whilst everyone else set tables, tore down the expo station, and so on.  She half-heartedly pushed a broom around, sulking the entire time, and whined when Metalhead asked her to put a little effort into it.  "I just swept!  I don't wanna do it again!  I'm tired!"

This girl had leaned against the bar all night, ignoring me when I directed her to pour waters and bus tables, so I really don't know how it's possible for her to be tired.

Metalhead ended up having to do it himself, and told our general manager that he didn't really think she was going to work out. 

Today, we were working with 3 on lunch buffet.  3 is Indian-American, young and good-looking, which is why he was hired.  He is, however, an idiot, and has already started giving himself airs.  

I was setting up the buffet because Amarth and Metalhead decided they wanted to be late today, and 3 would try and tell me where he thought certain dishes should go, what was what, how I should wear my hair (fuck you, 3, I forgot a hair-tie today and my hair is huge and curly.  

No matter how I wear it up, it will always bush out) and so on.  He takes direction really poorly; I literally had to tell him 4 times to make sure that everyone's water was filled and everyone's plates were being picked up.  He took direction from Metalhead, probably because a) he's a man, and b) he's not the kind of guy you really want to fuck with, because he could knock you out by poking you.  

How is it that my restaurant picks such winners as servers?

Love, kisses and poppadums,

--TheBrit

Coworker From Hell: Meet Special Snowflake

From TheBrit:

The last few days have been hell - going through a really hard breakup and trying to work at the same time is difficult.

So!  Slemslations has been interesting.  If you recall my last story, a girl never showed up for work, put me in a world of shit, and so on.  She supposedly got fired but is now back on the schedule.  

Metalhead and I have become closer as friends, and had a weekend together with his little brother and our other co-worker playing video games, jamming on guitars, being idiots.  It helped a lot with my state of mind, and today I was back at work, a little cheered up.  But this girl had to go and ruin everything.  

We'll call her Special Snowflake, because she is, according to her.  Yesterday, I woke up at Metalhead's to a text message from her begging me to come in since she had "food poisoning".  Instead of rushing in as usual, I happily texted her back to say I was out of town (which was true, Metalhead lives in the middle of nowhere) and couldn't help her out.  She texted me again at 6, passively-aggressively saying "If you wanted to, you could help me and Fairy King out tonight."  Nope, still out of town, but thanks for thinking of my feelings on the matter.  Unfortunately, I had to work with her tonight, alone, and boy was she nasty.  Not to or about me, for some reason, but about the manager, back from Ohio, and Metalhead. 

Here's some background on Special Snowflake.  I was hired with three other girls a couple months ago.  Metalhead told me that SS had specifically requested A never to hire women, because she didn't get along well with them.  That's Snowflake-ese for "Don't hire women, because they'll distract the men from fucking me."

At the time, she was banging a waiter, and had plans to move on to other members of staff, including Metalhead.  Ew.  (Direct quote from him, by the way.)  

So tonight, we had a new kid, fresh from college and wanting to work.  He showed up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 7, which unfortunately was part of our dinner rush. I directed him as best I could, giving him a mini-tour and showing him how to do drinks, take orders and ring things up.  

Then Special Snowflake came back from wherever the hell she was, spotted the rookie, and immediately launched into fifty reasons why he should quit right now, the manager's a fuck-head, Metalhead sucks at life, blah blah blah.  

She then shared that she and her friend were planning on mopping with sugar-water and dumping lemonade behind the cooler to attract ants, then calling the health inspector. God, she's pleasant.  

I almost passed out tonight because I haven't been eating, so I had to sit down for a few moments when we got slow.  Special Snowflake asked me what was wrong, and I told her that because of my break-up, I haven't been sleeping or eating well (it's been reaaaaaaaaally bad) and she had to one-up me by saying that she was feeling SO SICK, she just wanted to go home, but five minutes later she was gushing about going bowling with the dude she's seeing.  I basically shrugged her off and went home as soon as I could.

I work a double tomorrow.

Love, kisses, and garlic naan,

--TheBrit

 

Indian Restaurant Hell: Awesome Manager Bright Spot During Understaffed Shift

Hey, RHU, it's TheBrit again.

I'm still at Slemslations due to the economy being crappy / not having a car / jobs not calling me back when I call them and so on and so forth.  Asshat Manager D has been MIA lately, supposedly at our Ohio location while the owner P is here trying to sort out the massive amounts of money owed to the servers.  I'm still owed, though now the amount has come up to $130, not counting the $100 training money, and I'm biding my time until I can bring the wrath of holy hell down upon them.  Which will be when I start my new job, whenever that is.

BUT!  Slemslations is getting SUED!  Our ex-manager A has brought a lawsuit against them, according to the busboy, whom I lovingly call the Fairy King.  So good on him. Hopefully he can get the right people to investigate the restaurant, and the place will be shut down.

And now it's story time.  My one co-worker is a bit of a stoner, though she works fast and well...when she comes into work.  I was scheduled with her and Fairy King on Tuesday night, since the new night manager quit, and arrived at work at 5 to start setting up expo, making sure the bar was stocked and ready, and getting any cleaning that hadn't been done at lunch done. I'm annoyed, since they haven't showed up (Fairy King and this girl live together, so they carpool) and I've done all the set-up, but I've got no one in for dinner and just a couple take-out orders, so it's no big deal.  

The clock ticks, and suddenly it's 6.  The sous-chef, who looks like he should be doing hard time in a Mexican prison (hereby known as Scary Fucker) calls me over to the pass.  

"Ay, Brit, who work with chu today?" he asks.  

I tell him.  He swears in Spanish and goes to find Chef.  

Chef comes barrelling out of the kitchen two seconds later, looking around and asks me where they are.  Since I don't have a GPS tracker on them, I tell him I have no clue.

He then thunders into the back and about half an hour later, the lunch manager Metalhead shows up.  Now, this guy is awesome, and I love working with him because he gets things done and doesn't gossip.  The restaurant has filled up at this point and I have five take-out orders on the pass, and not even stopping to change into his work shirt, he barrels in and starts taking orders and pouring drinks while I try to catch up.  

A woman and her husband had walked in a couple minutes before Metalhead showed up, and were glaring at me, tapping their feet.  They had menus and water, and I had checked with them when Metalhead got there to see if they needed anything.  

"No, we're still looking at the menu, but you could get us some naan while we figure it out."  

So I punch in a naan, and literally the second it comes up to the window and I'm walking it to their table, they get up.  

"We're leaving.  We didn't get any SERVICE!" the woman hisses at me as she storms out.  

This was annoying, as I now had to void their order and P will get on my ass about it.

Metalhead looks at them calmly as they leave, then turns to me and says "I don't think that woman's gotten any service in a long time, if you know what I mean."  

He then voided the order and I got a free snack out of it.

I swear, restaurants bring out the worst in people.

Love, kisses and curry,

--TheBrit

 

RHUer Needs Advice: Restaurant Collects $100 From Employees For Security Purposes

From The Brit:

Hey all.  

I'm a waitress at an Indian restaurant in a sort-of major city in Michigan.  Let's call the restaurant Slemslations.

I started working there a couple months ago and everything was hunky-dory, despite the fact that we the servers are paid under the table.  Our manager A was an awesome guy who was always very friendly with the waitstaff and accommodated requests for scheduling and would help us out if we were in the weeds.  

Next thing we know, A was ousted and a new manager, D, was flown in from our Ohio location.  Things immediately went terrible.  My hours were cut to three shifts a week and money started being held back from my wages, in addition to D being verbally abusive to waitstaff, and even making some of them cry.  We lost two girls in a week because of his behaviour, which he just shrugged off as them not being tough enough to work in a restaurant.  Not just $5 or $10, but $20 or $30.  Right now, D owes me $180 from the past two weeks.  A staff meeting was called on Tuesday and the owner, P, informed us of some new policy telling us that $100 was being held back from our wages for security purposes.  It was all very shady.

D is now trying to fire a long-time server because he "doesn't like her attitude", whereas he just promoted Awesome Coworker R to shift leader despite R only working there for a grand total of 2 weeks.  

I don't know what to make of this, RHUers.  

What do you think I should do?

--TheBrit