The end is near!

I didn’t feel like typing anything else out last night after I got home. I decided, instead, to watch the series finale of The Office and then go to bed. I don’t know if any of you are fans of the show but I thought it was an amazing series, probably my favorite sitcom of all time. So yeah, sorry to say, but that trumped my feeble writings.

So I roll into my current place of employment with an hour to spare before supper service would begin. I knew Gary would be working because of our cook shortage situation. Normally he only used to work mornings and the afternoon with a whopping of maybe ten total hours on the line per week. The rest of his time was spent jacking off in the office or attempting to swoon some of the younger waitresses. I have absolutely no respect for him. I’ve ran restaurants that had easily more than double the volume of customers this one sees and still had plenty of time to pull cooking shifts, and especially so when we were down multiple employees.

This dildo wastes so much time it makes me sick. There have been several occasions when I’ve walked past the office only to see him fucking around on his phone, though when he notices someone is passing by, he immediately switches his composure to the computer to make it look like he’s actually working. Blah, whatever, I will soon be done with this nightmare and onto the next.

I ask him if he has a few moments to chat, which of course he does as he’s just sitting at the bar joking with the bartender when I arrive on scene. Fuck! Go do some work dickhead! You complain about productivity all the time yet can never find the time to do anything extra yourself! Ack, I’m getting derailed again.

He says sure and asks if it’s a private matter. I tell him not really as everyone will know by the night’s end anyhow. I told him I received another job offer and I will be taking it starting early next week. It looks like he’s going to cry. He tells me to hang on a minute and walks away. About a minute later he comes marching back with Rex. Jesus Christ, can you not handle one simple situation by yourself? I didn’t want to talk to Rex because he’s just going to want to have some drawn out conversation which will amount to nothing in the end, and boy oh boy, does he look aggravated.

He asks me to accompany him to the office and I agree, though state it’s not necessary. He insists and we go back and he closes the door behind us. Gary takes his place glued to the hip of his superior. Rex looks me square in the eyes and says, “I’ve listened to you enough. Now you’re going to shut up and listen to me.” Well that is really unprofessional. Oh my, someone’s testy today! I just grinned and let him have his moment. He starts blabbing about how he’s gone out of his way to try to make me happy since he’s been here. The raise I received, trying to give me more hours, how it’s been hard for him jumping into this new position and how he’s still trying to play catch up; blah blah blah blah blah. The bitch fest goes on for maybe five minutes and he closes his now red, though still fat, face. Now he’s just staring at me. I don’t know what he is expecting. What, do you want me to start crying and beg for forgiveness or something?

Big papa Gary doesn’t say a word, just stands there with his arms crossed like he’s trying to intimidate me. I can’t wait to see you out somewhere after I’m done here buddy. So anyways, after Rex is finished with his hissy fit I move in for my counterstrike. This really fucking pissed me off. It’s fine that he wanted a chance to vent his frustrations, but he certainly could have done it a different manner. I probably would have thanked him for being honest and left it at that, but now there is no way I’m going to sit like a rock and just take it. I retort with the same degrading and arrogant tone he’s taken with me.

“First of all, I never asked you for a raise. You offered me one.” He replies, “If I didn’t offer you one, you would have quit.” I say back, “You should have let me quit then. That was your choice. Don’t act like I owe you anything. If you didn’t think I deserved one, you shouldn’t have given it to me. Plain and simple.”

“You haven’t done squat for me concerning more hours.” He snaps back, “Well you’re back up to around forty aren’t you?” Man, you’re a dumb ass. I say, “That’s because we don’t have any other workers! There’s no way I’d have this many hours if you had all the staff you need.” He states, “That’s not true.” I reply, “I have a hard time believing that considering when I brought it to your attention, you basically told me “tough” and that labor costs were too high.”

“I’ve asked for additional uniforms more than once. I still only have one. ONE! For the last four months I’ve had to do laundry nightly just for one shirt. That’s ridiculous.” He has no response for that. Yeah, that may have been reaching, but fuck it, I’m going all in.

“When I asked about my schedule being more consistent, you said it wouldn’t be a problem. It’s never been as screwed up as it is now.” He says, “We need to schedule around busy and slow times. We don’t need people during the down periods.” I reply, “Well then you shouldn’t have told me you’d take care of it, because you obviously weren’t going to anyways.”

I feel I must interject here. This is the only place I’ve ever worked at that has this ridiculous of a schedule. I’m in at nine a.m. and get sent home after lunch. Then have to come back in at four p.m. and stay until eight p.m. A whole day is wasted for a measly eight hours, and that is like twice per week. The nights I close at midnight, I come in at six p.m. And then there’s a stupid shift in the middle somewhere like an eleven a.m. to three p.m. It always changes and is so random and retarded.

Then they want me to come in on my days off to pick up a few hours here and there to help cover shifts because this place sucks to work at and everyone quits. Sorry, but I really enjoy my time away and don’t want to work seven days per week just fill out an even forty hours. Every other restaurant I’ve ever worked in has at least some consistency so you could plan other activities for the day rather than just work.

I finished with, “I always show up for work, on time, and do my job to the best of my ability. I’m efficient and productive, neat and clean, the servers love me, and I honestly don’t believe any co-worker can say one thing bad about me, work related. You have told me that yourself. I don’t know what more you want.” I managed to slip in one last snide comment and said, “Oh yeah, and I don’t come to work drunk or high either.” Fuck yeah that last part felt great!

He says, “I’m really disappointed in you…”, and I interrupted him, “and me with you.” He goes on to say, “It would be nice to have you not threaten to quit every time something small happens.” I grin and state in a sarcastic tone, “Yeah those are such minor things. How much I make and how many hours I work." I go on to say, “This is only the second time I’ve told you I was quitting and they aren’t threats. I’ve made a decision and you’re the one who always wants to dissect it.” He finishes with, “Well I just feel burnt and I’m not happy with what you’re doing.” Good! Fuck off! Now you know how I’ve felt the whole time I’ve worked here. Abused and stepped on.

My last statement to him is, “There are two ways we can do this. I can leave right now or I can finish out the week. It’s up to you.” He spits out, “I’ll see you tomorrow because I guess I don’t really have a choice, now do I!?”, and he leaves the office. Sure you do. Stop being a pussy and sever the tie. Gary turns to walk away as I announce, “Is there anything you want to say to me, Gary?” He just looks at the ground and says, “No.” That’s what I thought you spineless twit. He was probably having flashbacks to the day I humiliated him on line and knew better.

That’s about the crux of the conversation. All I intended to do was give a quick notice without incident. Should have been easy, but nothing with this place ever is. I know I look like an asshole, but I don’t care. I’ve been shit on a lot here, if you can understand that from all my other posts, and it feels good to be the one taking a dump on them for a change.

It’s going to be a weird night tonight for sure. I will honor my final commitment and finish out the weekend, even though I shouldn’t after his temper tantrum. No one better fuck with me though, because I sure as hell would rather be out drinking some beers and camping with my friends over helping these jerks for another weekend. I hope with every fiber of my being that my nemesis of a manager pulls his once per month shift this weekend. That would be too sweet. Or at least have him come in and eat and tromp back to complain about something as usual. Oh my God, that would be so satisfying.

After thinking about it, I’m pretty sure I’m going to give my cohorts this blog address as a final slap in the face. Maybe then they can see what it’s like through my eyes. They’d probably just be in denial reading it though as all but one of them is delusional.

I’m so relived to finally be done with that shithole within a few more days. Next post I will go into detail about the horrific place I will be starting at, or restarting rather, next week. Oh, it’s something else, but as I stated last post, I just had to with what was offered. Either way I’ll be miserable but I might as well make bank, get health insurance, and work normal and consistent hours until something else comes along. It just feels so good to finally be able to stick it to them like they have been to me over the last four months. I will see you all soon, in another day in the life of a line cook.