(no subject)
This isn't just "Oh man what a bad day I had today..." this is actually a fairly typical day where I work...
So, to start off, my usual manager, Monica, is one of the worst managers in the history of the world: ever. She's LAZY as fuck and constantly makes mistakes. And, on top of that, I actually found her SLEEPING in the back today. I cannot even describe what a terrible worker she is. And, of course, she was my manager today.
Here are some of my "favourite" moments, just from today:
First, there was the guy who wanted a Del Combo burrito with no red sauce, and, in place of the red sauce, he wanted extra green sauce. Simple, right? So I bunched it into the register (it's such a typical request, there's actually a key for it) and called back to the cooks "On the Combo burrito, he wants no red sauce and extra green sauce." They gave me the thumbs-up and nodded and I thought life was good. But then Monica comes up all like "Que?" and looks at my register and is totally confused by the order. NOT THAT IT FUCKING MATTERS! She's not a cook anyway! But after staring at it for a few moments she looks up at the guy, asks him his order again, looks at the monitor, repeats it back, he says "yes," she still looks confused... Finally she goes "Oh, okay; you did it right" (of course I did!--it's not fucking rocket science) and then pushes the button to go back to the "Main Menu." Except she pushed it too hard and the button right "behind" the Main Menu button on my tap-screen is the "Paid $5 cash" button. So then, when the guy decides that he wants to add on a medium drink, the register is all in a snarl because it thinks that the money part of the deal is already taking place. It was a MESS. And then, of course, I get blamed for it. Stupid fucking bitch needs to leave my register alone, dammit.
Then, the soda machines broke. BOTH of them. And Jesus was freaking out. And I go "Why don't you call the repair man?" (genius, right?) and so he did. But the repairs took forever. And in the meantime customers are getting mad that they can't get their sugar fix. I'm having to do it the "old-fashioned way" by spraying some CO2 in a cup and adding a little syrup. And, of course, I'm the only person who's taking orders at both the drive-thru and the walk-in counter. Because Monica's fucking ASLEEP in the back (or gossiping on her cell phone) and Jesus is running around like a chicken with his head cut off because the soda machine isn't working right and "Omg what do I do?!" Cope.
I cut my finger getting someone's receipt and I burned my wrist on the fry scoop. You know why I got burned? Because Monica left the scoop in the fry-warmer. Okay. Did this woman not go to the same orientation that I did? Seriously. What the fuck. That was like the FIRST thing I learned: never leave the scoop in the warmer for more than a few seconds. A steaming pile of monkey shit would be a more competent worker than this woman. And probably preferable.
At least I got to send an "FML!!" type text to Ramiro while I was in the back applying Neosporin. That made me feel a little better. Especially since, at the time, I was feeling really dizzy and starting to have bad visual disturbances like I was about to pass out. (I'm having lab work done on me tomorrow to see why this has been happening to me so much lately... At this point I'm starting to think that it's mainly just stress).
Then, I was cleaning tables and this old man who smells SO STONG OF PEE THAT IT MAKES MY EYES WATER AND MY THROAT HURT asked me to please clean his chess board. Which was filthy (I'm pretty sure he's a vagrant). So I did. I mean, what the heck, right? He might have smelled HORRIBLE, but he was still a pretty nice guy. So I cleaned it up and was heading back to the back room to re-wash my towel (it was too soiled to use on the tables at that point). And Monica goes "Lauren!!--don't use that towel on the tables. You need to wash it again first." Really, brain-genius? Really?? I didn't know that. Fuck you.
Then, I went back out to clean the tables and I felt someone staring at me. You know when someone stares so hard that you can actually feel it? That kind of staring. So I looked up and in the back corner was this creepy-lookin' dude. And he's digging around in his pants... He pulled out some of his own pubes and put them on the table. Then he went outside and stood by the door... so he could watch me as I cleaned them up. This is how this guy gets his jollies. By watching fast-food workers clean up his pubes from tables. Shithead. Seriously. What is wrong with some people? I can understand a lot of strange/unconventional sexual fetishes, but even I have my limits. First of all, if you're having someone else participate (aka: me, since I had to clean it up), it should be consensual. Though, I guess, since this is my job and I'm getting paid for it, I did "kind of" consent. Still. Makes me sick. Stupid prick.
Then, there was the part where Jesus was like "Take out the trash." And I told him "No, I can't; it's too heavy. I can't do that for another month" (for those of you who don't know, I sprained my lower back and now have certain restictions applied). And he was totally uncomprehending (and usually Jesus is an "okay" manager). He was like "It's part of your job. Take out the trash." And I was all "I'm sorry; I can't." And it just went on like that and was really aggravating. I know that I'm not going to get in trouble for that because, even if he writes it down on a report or whatever against me, Rosa (the owner--who's a really cool old lady... I wish she was there more) will look at it and go "Oh, she can't do that because of her back." Because she knows. She's ESL too, but she understands things a lot better. So whatever. That one's not such a big deal. But it still irritated me.
Okay, and this...this is my very "favourite" part of my day. I was out on the floor, sweeping up, after some horrible pigs threw taco meat everywhere (no, really. I think they were having a food fight; I'm not joking), and there was a woman who came in with a retarded woman (she may have been DS, but she didn't have some of the features, so I'm not sure--she was also quite elderly). And the retarded woman was making some noises like "bluh bluh bluh duh" you know? Just having a grand old time making funny sounds come out of her mouth. And the woman she was with starts going "Shut up! Shut up!" but the retarded woman keeps making silly sounds and it sounds kind of like she's about to tell a story because she starts saying some words too. Then the other woman starts SLAPPING the retarded woman in the face. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" And I went over and said "Please stop." and the woman goes "I didn't ask for my sister to be a fucking retard! *slaps her again* SHUT UP!" and I go "Please stop, or I'm going to call the police."
Well, I guess she took me seriously, because she stood up and BOLTED out the door and just...left. So then I asked the retarded woman if she had someone I could call. She handed me her phone (which was like one of those Firefly phones or whatever that only has like 2 buttons lol!) and said that the little house was for her Caretaker. So I called up and explained the situation and the woman on the other end was very nice and she came right over. They ordered food, sat down, and had a grand ol' time! And, when I was mopping (because, after sweeping comes mopping) the caretaker thanked me and said that I was a "very hard worker" and such. And the retarded old woman got a big sloppy grin and reached out to me with her lil hand and I shook it. She was very happy.
And then I got in trouble for "talking too much to the customers."
I cannot hate my job more. It's not possible.
Typical day at Del Taco.
--Lauren*
So, to start off, my usual manager, Monica, is one of the worst managers in the history of the world: ever. She's LAZY as fuck and constantly makes mistakes. And, on top of that, I actually found her SLEEPING in the back today. I cannot even describe what a terrible worker she is. And, of course, she was my manager today.
Here are some of my "favourite" moments, just from today:
First, there was the guy who wanted a Del Combo burrito with no red sauce, and, in place of the red sauce, he wanted extra green sauce. Simple, right? So I bunched it into the register (it's such a typical request, there's actually a key for it) and called back to the cooks "On the Combo burrito, he wants no red sauce and extra green sauce." They gave me the thumbs-up and nodded and I thought life was good. But then Monica comes up all like "Que?" and looks at my register and is totally confused by the order. NOT THAT IT FUCKING MATTERS! She's not a cook anyway! But after staring at it for a few moments she looks up at the guy, asks him his order again, looks at the monitor, repeats it back, he says "yes," she still looks confused... Finally she goes "Oh, okay; you did it right" (of course I did!--it's not fucking rocket science) and then pushes the button to go back to the "Main Menu." Except she pushed it too hard and the button right "behind" the Main Menu button on my tap-screen is the "Paid $5 cash" button. So then, when the guy decides that he wants to add on a medium drink, the register is all in a snarl because it thinks that the money part of the deal is already taking place. It was a MESS. And then, of course, I get blamed for it. Stupid fucking bitch needs to leave my register alone, dammit.
Then, the soda machines broke. BOTH of them. And Jesus was freaking out. And I go "Why don't you call the repair man?" (genius, right?) and so he did. But the repairs took forever. And in the meantime customers are getting mad that they can't get their sugar fix. I'm having to do it the "old-fashioned way" by spraying some CO2 in a cup and adding a little syrup. And, of course, I'm the only person who's taking orders at both the drive-thru and the walk-in counter. Because Monica's fucking ASLEEP in the back (or gossiping on her cell phone) and Jesus is running around like a chicken with his head cut off because the soda machine isn't working right and "Omg what do I do?!" Cope.
I cut my finger getting someone's receipt and I burned my wrist on the fry scoop. You know why I got burned? Because Monica left the scoop in the fry-warmer. Okay. Did this woman not go to the same orientation that I did? Seriously. What the fuck. That was like the FIRST thing I learned: never leave the scoop in the warmer for more than a few seconds. A steaming pile of monkey shit would be a more competent worker than this woman. And probably preferable.
At least I got to send an "FML!!" type text to Ramiro while I was in the back applying Neosporin. That made me feel a little better. Especially since, at the time, I was feeling really dizzy and starting to have bad visual disturbances like I was about to pass out. (I'm having lab work done on me tomorrow to see why this has been happening to me so much lately... At this point I'm starting to think that it's mainly just stress).
Then, I was cleaning tables and this old man who smells SO STONG OF PEE THAT IT MAKES MY EYES WATER AND MY THROAT HURT asked me to please clean his chess board. Which was filthy (I'm pretty sure he's a vagrant). So I did. I mean, what the heck, right? He might have smelled HORRIBLE, but he was still a pretty nice guy. So I cleaned it up and was heading back to the back room to re-wash my towel (it was too soiled to use on the tables at that point). And Monica goes "Lauren!!--don't use that towel on the tables. You need to wash it again first." Really, brain-genius? Really?? I didn't know that. Fuck you.
Then, I went back out to clean the tables and I felt someone staring at me. You know when someone stares so hard that you can actually feel it? That kind of staring. So I looked up and in the back corner was this creepy-lookin' dude. And he's digging around in his pants... He pulled out some of his own pubes and put them on the table. Then he went outside and stood by the door... so he could watch me as I cleaned them up. This is how this guy gets his jollies. By watching fast-food workers clean up his pubes from tables. Shithead. Seriously. What is wrong with some people? I can understand a lot of strange/unconventional sexual fetishes, but even I have my limits. First of all, if you're having someone else participate (aka: me, since I had to clean it up), it should be consensual. Though, I guess, since this is my job and I'm getting paid for it, I did "kind of" consent. Still. Makes me sick. Stupid prick.
Then, there was the part where Jesus was like "Take out the trash." And I told him "No, I can't; it's too heavy. I can't do that for another month" (for those of you who don't know, I sprained my lower back and now have certain restictions applied). And he was totally uncomprehending (and usually Jesus is an "okay" manager). He was like "It's part of your job. Take out the trash." And I was all "I'm sorry; I can't." And it just went on like that and was really aggravating. I know that I'm not going to get in trouble for that because, even if he writes it down on a report or whatever against me, Rosa (the owner--who's a really cool old lady... I wish she was there more) will look at it and go "Oh, she can't do that because of her back." Because she knows. She's ESL too, but she understands things a lot better. So whatever. That one's not such a big deal. But it still irritated me.
Okay, and this...this is my very "favourite" part of my day. I was out on the floor, sweeping up, after some horrible pigs threw taco meat everywhere (no, really. I think they were having a food fight; I'm not joking), and there was a woman who came in with a retarded woman (she may have been DS, but she didn't have some of the features, so I'm not sure--she was also quite elderly). And the retarded woman was making some noises like "bluh bluh bluh duh" you know? Just having a grand old time making funny sounds come out of her mouth. And the woman she was with starts going "Shut up! Shut up!" but the retarded woman keeps making silly sounds and it sounds kind of like she's about to tell a story because she starts saying some words too. Then the other woman starts SLAPPING the retarded woman in the face. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" And I went over and said "Please stop." and the woman goes "I didn't ask for my sister to be a fucking retard! *slaps her again* SHUT UP!" and I go "Please stop, or I'm going to call the police."
Well, I guess she took me seriously, because she stood up and BOLTED out the door and just...left. So then I asked the retarded woman if she had someone I could call. She handed me her phone (which was like one of those Firefly phones or whatever that only has like 2 buttons lol!) and said that the little house was for her Caretaker. So I called up and explained the situation and the woman on the other end was very nice and she came right over. They ordered food, sat down, and had a grand ol' time! And, when I was mopping (because, after sweeping comes mopping) the caretaker thanked me and said that I was a "very hard worker" and such. And the retarded old woman got a big sloppy grin and reached out to me with her lil hand and I shook it. She was very happy.
And then I got in trouble for "talking too much to the customers."
I cannot hate my job more. It's not possible.
Typical day at Del Taco.
--Lauren*