Well,
my plans ended up being pretty anticlimactic. I just went in early and told Rex
(GM) my story from the other evening and he said Gary hadn’t yet brought any
ideas to him. He assured me that if they sounded similar I would be get some
credit. Some credit. I told him I wanted to be present when they discussed it
and he said he’d try to arrange that.
So
basically, from what I gathered, I won’t be there to hear my jacked concepts being
spurted from the mouth of my traitorous superior. Any by getting some credit,
I’m thinking a small thank you, but probably not even that. This shit is so
messed up. I am finding it hard to keep my faith in humanity. I remember
writing that I believe there is inherent good in everybody, there is at least
some professional courtesy, be it at any level, and this happens. I could never
do this to another person, it’s just not right. Have some integrity and decency
instead of being a gutless leech. God damn bottom feeders. I will see some sort
of justice served before my time is done here, that I promise myself.
Meth
head is still gainfully employed, fuck he probably got a raise and some stock
options out of the whole ordeal. Probably only got warned to make sure if he’s
going to get high at work, just do it during weeknight services and not
weekends. Then they likely exchanged buyer information and some samples with
each other. Yeah, I’m that bitter.
There
were a couple of decent highlights last night, though. I came in and was met by
my new supervisor, yeah a fresh hatchling. He stated that we all had a list of
cleaning duties for the evening. As my mood sank yet another notch, I just said
to myself that I wasn’t going to do it if I didn’t get time. But, I always find
time so I’ll just keep chugging along like any other drone.
The
closing cook comes in an hour later and is told the same thing. He retorts,
“Yeah, fuck that. I’ll do it when I see Gary do something.” The newly appointed
mini manager exclaims back, “Nope, you have to!” Wow, way to flex your
authority. You sure told him! You’ll fit right in with this circus of upper
level incompetents. Closing cook spits back, “When I say fuck that, I mean fuck
that. I’m tired of this shit. I do more extra cleaning around here than anyone
else without having to be told to do so.” I can’t control it; I burst into
hysterical laughter. Thank you brother, you’re my hero. I really needed to hear
that. Ah, this night may turn around after all.
The
supervisor disappears from the kitchen and returns with a front of the house
manager. Ahahahahahaha! He went and told on the closer obviously because he
didn’t know how to handle such adversity. It is now part of your job to DEAL
with shit like this you spineless twit! She comes back and starts to glare at
him. Fuck, this is going to be awesome!
Nope,
she says nothing. However, something does happen. She and the newly appointed
dictator begin cleaning the items they were arguing about! WOW! Excellent
conflict management skills you two! By the time they are almost finished with
what are apparently now their cleaning duties, they are joking and chumming up
to the said offender. Maybe I should grow my balls a little bigger if it would
mean I would get these results. I’m so dumbfounded by this whole episode. To go
even further, after they finish his chores, they do mine too!
A
little while later I notice dildo number one manager is finally pulling a shift
tonight. This is the second time I’ve ever seen him work and I’ve been here for
over two months now. This is the holier than thou dick that pushed the spoon in
my face and wanted me to taste his cold pasta in the other post. He’s strutting
around like he’s king shit, God what a fucking dumbass. He’s spewing garbage to
the servers like, “Let’s get those beverage sales up tonight!” and “Remember
everyone, teamwork makes the dream work!” OMG! Are you for real? Seriously, did
I just hear that over used useless drivel come from that retarded skull of
yours!? I hate this guy more and more every time I see him, and I’ve only seen
him twice while working!
As
the night unfolds he’s helping expo and he calls me over to remind me that ALL
burgers come with pickles. I say, “Yeah, I know.” He asks, “Then why doesn’t
this burger have pickles? I need pickles on this burger!” I just sigh to myself
and reply, “The ticket says no pickle.” Holy fuck. This isn’t possible. He
can’t be wrong, so he retorts, “Well, that probably means not on the burger,
put a pickle spear on the side.” I say, “It says no pickles, so I don’t put ANY
pickles on the burger or plate, but here you go.” I put a pickle on the plate.
He cockily spurts out, “Thanks! That was easy, wasn’t it!?” Fuck you nerd. Just
fuck you.
The
server whose food this was overhears the conversation and exclaims, “No No No!
They said they hate pickles!” He tries to play it off and grabs the pickle and
puts it into his mouth while saying, “That’s okay. I wanted this anyways.” A
glorious manager was wrong, once again, and while confronting me, once again.
Oh my, how the tide has shifted. No way you’re getting off that easy, asshole.
I
grab the plate from the serving window and bring it back down. I say out loud
for all to hear, “That’s just great! Now I have to add this burger to our waste
sheet! I’ll get another one going right away.” The arrogant dick replies, “Why would
you do that? There’s nothing wrong with that!” I exclaim, “The customer said he
hates pickles and now the pickle itself and the juice have touched the bun!” He
snarls back, “It will be fine.” I ask innocently, “What if he has pickle
allergies?” This dumb fuck looks at me for about five seconds and then
grudgingly concedes, “I suppose you’re right. I’ll tell him it will be a few
more minutes.” Are you kidding me? The server said he hates pickles, not that
he’s allergic to them.
He
comes racing back into the kitchen moments later and shrieks, “He said it would
be fine!” Ha-ha, you dumb shit. In a sympathetic tone I say, “Aw, I just threw
it in the garbage. I’ll put a rush on the new one though. I guess I’ll add the
vegetables to the waste list too because we can’t serve those anymore either.”
Dildo supreme states, “Ah, well I’ll let him know and give him a twenty-five
percent discount.” Way to go management superstar. When will you fuckers learn
to just stay away from me and keep you pie holes shut?
I
normally wouldn’t do this with anyone, especially since it means the poor
customer now has to wait a little longer for his meal, but I had to teach this
dick head a lesson. Thank you for your noble sacrifice table 44. I am forever
in your debt. By the way, I didn’t throw the burger away, I ate it and it was
fucking delicious. Tasted like sweet victory.
The
manager stays away for the rest of my shift. I make sure to take the waste
sheet directly to him before I clock out. It looks like he’s sitting with a group
of friends. I tell him right in front of his companions, “The person who wasted
the item needs to initial the sheet. This way we know who needs help in this
area.” I make sure we have eye contact and with a big smile go on to say, “You
need to initial this so Rex and Gary know what you wasted tonight and that I
wasn’t responsible.” He doesn’t say a word and slops down his initials. “Oops,
you missed right here where it says a six ounce portion of mixed vegetables.”
He signs again in utter defeat. Yeah, take that you fucker! How does that feel?
Feels pretty great to me! I walk away, actually I may have been skipping with
glee, but I don’t remember, clock out for the night, grab my coat, and head out
the door.
Between
me and the other cook, we got a couple wins out of the night. All in all, it
wasn’t that bad of a day, in the life of a line cook.
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