not only is this a title of a yeah yeah yeahs' song that will get me in the mood for osheaga:
but that is generally how i am feeling about my shift at work. allow me to explain.
so after spending a couple of hours reading blogs about the high life that is one of a starbucks barista, i somehow felt inspired to have a terrific day at work. to remind myself that i am the friendly go-getter at the job that people enjoy being around.
some of you must be wondering why i would even feel the need to be reinspired. well, friends. if there is one thing that i cannot tolerate above all else it's slacking off.
you could say it's because i have been raised my two educators who expected the best out of their children, you could say it's because i'm a perfectionist, you could say it's common sense.
regardless of what the reason for it, i am the type of person that gives blood, sweat, tears, aggression, crannies, and nooks into the things i do. i expect that the majority of people in this society would think and act the same way.
but i am proven wrong.
back story: there is this girl at work who was hired on the same exact day as me over a year ago. we did our training together, were transfered together, and worked together. this changed when i left starbucks for about six months. i come back to see that she has been promoted to shift lead. "awesome!" i thought. "how great that i can work with her again!"
oh... how naive i was then.
i started realizing that this girl has changed her ways drastically since i had last attended to close the store with her. instead of leaving 20 minutes after the store closed, we found ourselves an hour and fifteen minutes after the doors were shut... still cleaning things and having half of everything left. keep in mind it wasn't busy.
i started to panic. wondering what was going on. then i realised after having done a close with a compident person that it wasn't me. it was her.
when reality set it, my radar picked up on things that she was doing wrong. after weeks of putting up with it, myself and another coworker decided to confront our manager about her work ethic. the fact that she would take her break anytime she wanted regardless of what needed to get done, the fact she would order pizza hut pizza at 6 and would take her break when it arrived two hours later when there was a rush, and also the fact that not only would she leave us in the front the entire night to serve customers, but would have us essentially do the entire close. nothing was done just yet for a multitude of bullshit reasons. however, tonight was the third night in a row that i would find myself doing a close. with her. by myself.
i am doing a grand total of six closes in a row in order to have osheaga weekend to myself. a small price to pay, really.... or so i thought.
STORY TIME.
i arrive to work at 3 o'clock as expected and start doing the close from the moment i get in. doing all i can to brace myself for my close with this person and place pillows for my fall. by the time that she arrives at four thirty, quite a bit was done. but allow me to explain something.
there are four things that are divided between the people doing close regardless of how busy it is: brooming, mopping, garbages, and pastries.
however, whenever i do a close with this person, all of these rules and working procedures seem to fly out of the window. she has put up an attitude that is "either do it without telling me or by the time we get around to it, it won't get done." the fact that my name is going on this close is making me nervous. so my attitude has turned to "fuck you i'll do it".
so you see me having already emptied all the teas, moka, white moka, and chai pumps, cleaned all the pumps, restocked the condiment bar, as well as a coffee machine and it's not even supper time. but, seeing as i have come to except the fact that i am pulling dead weight, i start passing the broom. check. soon followed by mop. check. by this point it's six thirty. in all that time, i have also managed, to complete half of the garbages, half of the recycling, and close an espresso machine. what has my "superior" accomplished. jack. shit. yes, she served a grand total of three customers. in the process leaving pitchers, spoons, and stains all over the counters and instead of picking them up, decides to dine on her venti concoction and warm up the counter with her lazy ass. regardless, i am satisfied with what i've got done at this point in the game. with a back soaked in sweat from having done as much as i did, i toast a bagel, prepare myself god's gift that is a quad grande soy starbucks double shot on ice and i take my seat. ray charles just started playing so i'm feeling it.
our starbucks is connected to an indigo. so every once and a while, we have an indigo employee who passes by that says hi and we involce ourselves in conversations.
so as i'm there scarfing down my reward, an indigo girl pops her head out and gives me a wave. we start talking about driving courses, how she is nervous for hers, how i just registered for my written, asking her for her booklet, her agreeing, and giggles here and there. but would you believe that my collegue doesn't decide to take my absense from the floor in strive. oh no. that would be foolish. but rather leans on the counter, grabs a choco espresso bar, starts nibbling, and joins in our conversation. last I checked, SHE was not on break.
but i digress.
after sending a couple of text messages, having a good friend visit me and sharing a hug, i go back to work. i came up with a mental game plan: finish the garbages, slowly clean, handle the public, put milks away, refill, and before i would know it, it would be ten and we'd be finished. however, my collegue decides to count the cashes from two of my other collegues earlier that day.
i know what you're thinking "that seems reasonable. what's the problem?"
she is known for doing just this. counting cashes. but that is ALL she is known for. she spends two hours in the back counting and recounting because she forgets what is after four and i end up not being able to go in the back to do dishes, refill the milk fridges, or BRING THE GARBAGES. seeing as i know i will get the horns if i contest or she will think i'm kidding, i nod and carry on with the close.
it was the prettiest day of summer. meaning frappucinos. lots of them. so i ended up doing mainly that between having to clean up my mess. a bus here and there, and i was pulling good rhythm... if i didn't have to bring the garbages. an hour passes and the sloth is still in the back. at this rate i decided to fuck it and do all the garbages and carry them outside when she would return to the back. i go and get the garbage bags, she is not there. SHE VANISHED. i later found out she went to ASK AN INDIGO PERSON ABOUT A BOOK. she then says that seeing as she left mid-count she will have to restart the counting.
my jaw clenches.
i once again nod and carry on with everything.
time passes, i get all the garbages done, and when she finally comes back out (might i add after asking me if i minded if she made a personal call), i throw them out, close down some machines, fill up the machines, and 8 o'clock hits.
"i'm going on break now." she says.
let something be know to all of you that she started at 4:30. usually all breaks are dealt with before 8 or even 7 o'clock. yes, it's a bitch that you would have to take a break two hours into your shift. it's a bigger bitch to have to finish at 11 because someone took their break during a rush.
just pleased that i didn't have to wait on her meat lovers pizza, i nodded and off she vanished into the backstore in her vampire book.
half of me took this as a good thing. "i don't have to worry about her being in my way or slowly me down" i thought. as i started to refill bases and cups, i turn around to see a customer waiting at my cash. i serve them. and another. i serve them. all of a sudden, i see six people, then ten. then a line to the end of the starbucks. panic leaks in. i was working so fast i was hovering; somehow thinking that this optical illusion that was my line would either come to an end sooner or later or at least my partner would be able to come on floor.
twenty minutes pass. thirty minutes pass. where is she?
there is no time. even with the echo of laughter, crying children, blenders, steamed milk, i do not here or see her coming. until fourty five minutes later (that's fifteen minutes longer than she should be), she is talking on the work phone, sees the line, walks in slow motion and does her snail speed goodbyes to finally take cash and help me rid myself of the final customers.
she later on asks me why i didn't call her. i insist that i couldn't because of the insanity also saying that i thought she would hear it was busy (avoiding the obvious fact that she should have been on floor earlier).
after having that beastly whirlwind, i see this as a time for me to take a breather, and continue doing close. but here's where things get intense.
when it comes to me on cash, if there is no one behind them or on their way, i won't call upon my collegues. i take the initiative, have them pay, make the drinks, and i'm out. you would think this was a logical thing to do when you know that you do nothing but sit on your fucking ass all night while i can do a close with my eyes shut. but no. even though i was closing the second coffee machine, running side to side to clean dishes, do a bus, as soon as the man answers the "with or whitout whip cream" question, she turns to me and says
"mezzo moka frappucino."
CALLING ME THE DRINK.
i freeze. arms full of everything, staring at her in utter awe and denial about what just went down. you have GOT to be kidding me.
thinking she was joking, i'm looking for any sign of it. but all i can see is her have the customer pay.
my jaw so tight i hear a crack, i call back "mezzo. moka. frappucino."
this passes and so did the time. it is now 9:20. fourty minutes left. thinking the worst was over, we were soon wrong. in comes this ocean of people ten minutes later. in that crowd of people was none other than that one person that you can only hope but not have. here's how it went down.
she goes to the cash and orders an iced grande skinny caramel macchiato.
STARBUCKS LANGUAGE LESSON:
SKINNY= non fat milk and sugar free sirup.
and we must call it as such.
so i make the drink and shout out
'' ICED, GRANDE, SUGARFREE VANILLA, NON-FAT, CARAMEL MACCHIATO!"
followed by a straw and a "have a nice night".
halfway in my turn back i'm stopped by an "excuse me!".
i turn back and see this woman dolled up to impress the world having come back from a cheapy tuesday movie. and she has a face on disgust on that i'm sure she paid enough to be sure to be able to make.
"you have my drink wrong. i ordered an iced grande SKINNY caramel macchiato." she said.
"that's exactly what it is. skinny involves sugarfree sirop and non-fat milk. we just have to call it out that way. sorry if you were confused!" i laughed it off with a smile.
she sends one back with a lot more.
"aha..... no. i don't think you understand. i just wanted NON FAT milk. i wanted the REGULAR sirup."
*hesitates* "well, if you don't like it, i can remake it."
"well i think you will. i don't think it will be sweet enough."
.... you're fucking with me, right?
this isn't salt and sugar we are comparing. it's 5 calories. suck it up.
she takes a sip and as if i had dipped her drink in garbage, she hands me the drink and has me remake it without thank you or apology. just complaints.
when all the customers left, my soon-to-be-dead partner asks me what that was about. i explain that i simply am going to focus on breathing for the next little bit as i am over my head with tonight's service. not good enough. she decides to keep poking at it until it finally reaches ten oclock where i am free to swear as much as i please. so i do.
i unleash the frustration (i'll admit. a bit high for THAT situation. but not for this collegue)
and she tells me to calm down.
so i do. but what does she do? decides to rattle me up again. for no reason.
out of no where, she reminds me of a mistake that i made two weeks into my return here. instead of using the frappucino box base, i accidentally used a chai mixture which gave it a spicy feel. after the initial two days, everyone teased me about it and then let it be.... all except for her.
her: "so meaghan... how did you make that mistake? between chai and frappucino?"
what i should have said: "oh.... maybe because they looked the fucking same and were right next to eachother."
what i said: "hmm.. i dunno. i guess i wasn't paying attention."
her: "but seriously, though. HOW could you make that mistake? they both say different things. i mean... how could you get that wrong?"
what i should have said: "how could your parents have made the mistake of not putting you up for adoption?"
what i said:"i would NOT be able to tell you."
she then spends the next 5 minutes asking herself that same question OUTLOUD and coming up to me to tell me when she figured out how.
congradu-fucking-lations. would you like a golden star and A RIFFLE IN YOUR MOUTH WITH THAT ACHIEVEMENT?!
so now it's ten and all my shit is done. i'm pleased. but i cannot leave until SHE has done her shit. so i check to see what's missing. bathrooms: incomplete. strike one.
frappucino bases: no dice.
cashes? nope. why bother.
dishes, maybe? you would think so.
seeing as she used the dishes line, i would expect that there are none left in the sink. however, the night before, i asked her the exact same thing "did you finish the dishes?" and was told yes.
this seemed weird as i had come into work to be told that our broken washing machine was crammed with dirty dishes. so as i am throwing rags in the washer, i glance at the sink.
to see the mount everest of yet-to-be-washed dishes starring at me in the dace.
HOE. LEE. FUCK.
WHAT. THE. FUCK. DID. SHE. DO. WITH. HER. TIME.
WHAT HAD SHE BEEN DOING ALL NIGHT?!
every TEN MINUTES this girl would go and HIBERNATE in the back to either count the cashes or do the dishes.
AND THE DISHES AREN'T DONE?!?!
by this point, i am beyond exhausted and infuriated. i feel the tears coming on so i decide to finish everythign else as she does that.
i realise now that she pulled the same shit as she did last night but i don't care.
i'm having my boss know and also giving her an ultemadum. she either deals with this bitch by either transfering, demoting, firing, or plainly confronting the girl, or i am transfering.
i'm a lot of things. and one of them is too good for this shit.
after having my little sister (that's right) help ME DO THE CLOSE BY THROWING OUT THE LAST GARBAGE, i clocked out, peaced out, and cried, yelled, and collapsed emotionally on the way home.
enough is enough.
/rant.
mtb.
holy shitfucker.
ReplyDeletedude you HAVE to do something.