As Simple as Salt: A Bittersweet Finale

So now that I'm working two jobs, less interesting things are happening in my life. Although both of my jobs are in customer service, the problems are new. With new comes less annoyance. I have yet to get screamed at with this job. I have yet to chastised for my intelligence, or lack there of. I have yet to be yelled at by a boss, simply because I am new. So, I will not write about this new job, because my life there is simple. Simple is boring. So no, my one reader a week, I will not bore you with my simple job. But, as I mentioned, with two jobs, I have less interesting things to talk about, and less annoyances. Until someone yelled at me for something as simple as Salt.
As I assume you have gathered, you can't walk into Foodies thinking that it's going to be a good day, because that isn't true. It's completely false, actually. You know, right off the bat, that your day is going to suck. We associates have learned this and have begun walking into work, turning to the nearest person, and asking "what's going wrong today?" Well, mostly the answer is long and stupid. This particular day, the answer was salt. We were out of salt.
Well, if you work, or have ever worked in any food service, you know that bitches love their salt. People go through salt faster than anything. Everyone salts everything. So this day, when people got their food, walked over to the condiment stand and saw no salt packets, their world broke.
"Can I have some salt packets please? There isn't any out here."
"I'm so sorry, we are actually out of them.."
"Well what are you putting on your fries?!"
Well, because you know, we take the time to open fifteen things of salt packets per french fry, we have that kind of time. I would explain that it comes from this huge bucket of salt, and they would rant about how awful this establishment was and then storm away.
I feel like I have no fight in me anymore, no rant. People are stupid, and they do stupid things. There is no getting around that. No matter where you go, you're going to see people, doing stupid things. I just hope to pass a lesson on to you, lonely reader, don't be stupid. Don't ask stupid questions, learn how to order at a fast food restaurants, if you're not at McDonald's, don't add mc in-front of everything, and be healthy, you don't really need 72 salt packets to go on your already salted fry. Be smart, and just be kind. As simple as that.

Black Thursday Shopping

     So we're all aware of the new Thanksgiving tradition, it is a passed time for people to have the day off of work, sit around the table, and give thanks for something. Now, instead of gathering as families, we shop. There are millions of people who are against Black Friday shopping on Thanksgiving, and these people make it very evident, posting on Facebook and ranting on other various websites, but unfortunately, the deals are just too big. Whether you're against it, or all for it, if you want that TV that goes on sale at 6 p.m. Thursday night bad enough, you're going to go out for it. No matter how much you want to sit and finish that plate of mashed potato surprise and odd flavored casserole, the headlines and percentages will always win.
     Maybe you are hardcore. Maybe you've stated your claim and your sticking too it: You will not go Black Thursday shopping. Great for you, but you're not helping anything. Too many people come to our stores, we make too much revenue. Black Thursday shopping is inevitable. I wouldn't be surprised if it becomes Black Wednesday in a few years, or maybe even Black November. Does it suck for those who have to work? Yes it does. It's awful. I hated dealing with cranky people who missed the last pair of shoes by two minutes. It sucked getting yelled at because "door-buster prices ended at three, our systems have stopped ringing those prices, i'm sorry that you were in line before that, there's nothing we can do."
     It may sound like I'm telling you to suck it up and just shop, and maybe in a way I am a little bit, but then again what I'm really telling you, if you're against Black Thursday, is to not just state your claim in silence. but rather, fight like hell to stop it. I want my Thanksgiving food that I wait all year for, I want mashed potato surprise, I want family time. Give me my Holiday back. Please, I beg you, picket outside, get on the news, start a petition. It isn't fair to us, the poor college kids of the world, to loose our holiday's. And does it make any sense, to anyone, that more stores are closed on Christmas, a religious based holiday, than Thanksgiving, a day of American pride? No, it doesn't. So if you went Black Thursday shopping, go you! I hope you got some awesome deals, but if you didn't, I hope I see you on the news next year.

Next

     This week went on and on. Slowly. It seemed to have no end. It was one of those weeks for me where I lost track of time, thought I was a day ahead of myself, began to reference things that happened days ago and was corrected with "That was yesterday." It was a sucky week, to say the least. Now, yes, it is true, that by reading my blog you may think that every week is sucky in the life of me, and as I assure you, that is mostly true, this one was worse. Why, you ask? Because I got a new job,
     A new job?! Isn't that everything you've always wanted? Why yes, yes it is. But I asked, and I received. I hear my eight year old nice yelling "be careful what you wish for" in my head, I started my new job on Tuesday, racking up some more hours, which is great. I love money. The problem is, that I absolutely love it. I love everything about it. Okay, I've only had two days, but so far, I love it. I love not smelling like burgers and mustard when I get home. I love that I can dress up, and do my hair and makeup, I love that I can have a bottle of water on the job (this is one luxury I have been deprived of for too long), I love that talking is not forbidden, and if I have to use the restroom I can without having to consult a manager. I love that when it's time for me to leave, I can. I don't have to ask permission like i'm four, I don't have to stay over just because my replacement isn't there, I can just leave. This new job is absolutely glorious.
     So what, you ask, is the problem? Well remember my last blog post, the one about me being crazy? Maybe not, maybe you skipped that one, so i'll explain. Well, in a moment of weakness, some would call it a minor mental breakdown, I applied for management at Foodies. This was before I got my new job, of course. I was thinking, "hey, i'm a broke college student who could use more money and more hours, so management." I then came to the realization that my boss is a shithead who doesn't like me and would probably throw away my application anyways, and took this job. Well now, loving, absolutely loving, my new job, I have been offered a management position officially.
     Excuse the crap out of me but sense when do things actually go my way? Never, that's when. So now i'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Where the hell do I turn? My new job is seasonal, with a SLIGHT chance I may get hired in officially. Do I bank on that? Do I throw away more money, and an actual opportunity for a chance at happiness? Do I throw away a better income, the chance to move out of my house, independence, more experience, a better resume, on happiness? I've been with Foodies for two years now, I'm sure I can handle more. Or if I stay now, will I be stuck? Just like some of my managers now, who planned on only doing it through college, and here they are fifteen years later? So what is it? Happiness or stability? Its been a bad week.

Apparently I hate myself

Every week I rant and vent about my awful job. I talk about how much I hate people, and working, and people, and life. So why then, would I apply for management? I don’t know, but I did. Maybe it was the visions of my own apartment and hundreds of moving boxes dancing in my head, visions of having no furniture, lying on the floor of my cheap, crappy apartment watching a mini television, or maybe it was the visions of opening an empty refrigerator because I would still be too broke to support myself.

Truth is, no good can come of me being a manager. I would work more, and make like maybe two dollars an hour more than I would after minimum wage fully increases. I suppose I would be able to finally move out because that’s an extra 300ish a month, but if I stay cooped up in my basement until I’m 27 maybe I won’t have so much debt. What good is being on my own if I can’t live well? But ranting about student debt and the lack of financial aid is for a different day, and a different blog. What I really came here to write about is what the hell I was thinking.

Well, fellow students reading this, I wasn’t. Even if my bitch of a boss says to herself, “Wow, Aubrie really has earned this (which I have), maybe I should turn this into corporate (which she won’t)” No one would respect me. Why should they? I would have been their coworker five minutes ago. No one would see me as higher than them, especially because I’m younger than most of them. Not that my age really defines that much because even the 16 year olds would just think my authority would be a joke.

I already have manager qualities, this meaning I snap on people who aren’t working because I’m not about to pick up their slack later. I have a type of seniority. On a quick count I have seen about 40 people get hired in and then leave, this is not even counting the people that where there before me and then left later. There are under ten people working now that were there before me, two are managers, but yet other people don’t see it that way. People don’t think “oh, she’s been here forever, she knows what she’s doing.” They think, “Oh she’s not a manager, so I don’t need to listen to her.” and If I become a manager that’s not going to change, it’s just going to adapt to “Well, she’s a lower level manager, she doesn’t really know what she’s talking about.” Or “She’s only been a manager for five minutes, I don’t really have to listen to her.”

Don’t I hate my job enough? Am I crazy to want to become a manager? Why did I even put in the application? Money, experience, and to torture myself would be the answers. Maybe I just needed something new, or maybe I really just want to punish myself, but it’s just an application, nothing has been done or said yet. So I guess we’ll see.

The other side of the counter

So, this weekend I visited a different fast food chain for dinner and had an awful experience. Being that I always criticize the customers, I found the way the employee's handled me to be completely rude and disrespectful. I decided that it was interesting to me how they were trained so differently. Of course they have different policies when it comes to handling incorrect food, but the fact that they just assume it is us in the wrong is ridiculous. So, here's the story. 

            We went through the drive-through around 10pm. Our order was not that hard, a chicken sandwich. That was it. I’m not sure if someone around the same time as me happened to get the same thing but minus the lettuce and I received that sandwich instead of them, or if it was just a mistake. Either way, my sandwich had no lettuce. I would normally deal with this kind of thing and just buck up and eat it, but there were other quality issues as well. So, I called.

At Foodies, our policy is that if you receive the wrong food, we will replace it. We ask for your name and write it in a book and tell you that if you want to come back later just to tell us who you are and repeat what we are replacing and we will take care of it. Some people come back right away, others, a couple of weeks. It’s on the customer’s terms. This particular fast food chain needed us to come back that second and show us the product and only then would decided if it was actually a mistake or not. This is when I started to get angry, sitting in my pajamas leaning over the stove cooking mac&cheese because I just wanted to be warm. It was almost 11pm at this point and the thought of going all the way back to the not-so-close restaurant in my pajamas when I just settled down, sounded terrible.
                I tried to bargain with the woman. “Please, it’s late, just let me come back in the morning and get my sandwich, It is very inconvenient for me to have to drive all the way back right now.” “Sorry ma’am that’s not our policy.” As I haven’t said those words enough myself. I finally gave up, put my mac&cheese in the fridge and drove back to that stupid place for a sandwich I didn’t even want at that point. The whole way I was thinking about the fact that I was wasting more money In gas than the stupid chicken even coasted in the first place.

When I got back to the fast food place I waiting in there drive –through line (the inside already being closed because of how late it was) for over 15 minutes. Finally, getting to the window and stating my case the woman said. “Well okay, to replace your sandwich you’re going to have to wait about 6-7 minutes so we can get you a fresh chicken.” I lost it.  I became one of those customers. She was only doing her job, but I could clearly tell that she was the one I talked too on the phone. She couldn’t have thought about it and put fresh chicken in when she knew I was coming back? So, I got my non-fresh chicken sandwich pretty quick after that and an apple pie, which was cold and gross. Moral of the story, McDonalds has crappy policies.

            

Do you work here? No.

      An often annoyance of mine is when a customer acts like they know our procedures better than we do. I have hundreds upon hundreds of examples of this, and could probably write a book about it, but for this post, I will just share one and complain. Who knows, maybe I will write a about crappy jobs and make a fortune and never have to work again. Wouldn't that be nice. So anyways, back tot the topic. Less in-depth examples of this would be fill lines. Fill lines are exactly what they sound like, lines that we fill the product to. We are not to cross the line with product for specific reasons, regarding the product.
       So lemonade, for example. On our lemonade cups there are 5 lines and depending on what type of lemonade you get, we fill things to different lines. So if you get berry lemonade we fill the berry syrup to the 1 and the ice to the 3 and the lemonade the rest of the way. This insures that every customer receives the same product. I am going to repeat that, because that is the main reason for fill lines. Fill lines insure that every customer receives the same product.
      So now we relate that to chili. Some people get really aggravated over the fact that our chili doesn't pour out of the cup when we give it to them. "Oh my gosh there is a sliver of cup between the chili and the top why are you so stupid?" is mostly how that goes. But we don't do it to steal your money, we don't do it because we're stupid, we do it to be fair. It wouldn't be fair to the person behind you if I filled your chili all the way to the tippy-top and his and inch from the top, would it? No. We have a standard.
       Knowing this, relate that to our ice cream products. Because there are "for here" and "to go" we have fill lines for our ice cream products. People get very upset about this because we are apparently "jipping" them out of their money, I often explain that we fill it to the same amount so that it is fair for both our drive through and dining room customers. But what gets rather irritating is that many customers jump right to "well if you would just do your job right, we wouldn't have this problem." Excuse me, but you don't work here, I do. I was trained by my managers, I think I know a little better than you do about what I should and should not be doing.
     Why is fast food the go to "stupid" job? I would never walk into Dow and freak out because a chemical engineer is doing something wrong, because I have no clue what they even do. People think that the know everything. I want every single person to work fast food for one month of their lives. I think working fast food makes you more understanding as a person, and it makes you "get it." Monkeys CAN NOT do our jobs, okay? It's actually really difficult and the number one most stressful job in America is Fast food and Retail. Don't tell me that I'm stupid and need to go back to school because you're unsatisfied with the amount of product you have in your cup when it is a set standard. People suck.

Things I wish I could say to customers..

People who think that the customers are always right.... are wrong. In fact, 99.99999999% of the time they are dead wrong. Just think about it. I work here. I spend on average 30 hours a week here and you think you know this business better than me? Bye. 

I have compiled a few (non-fictional) scenarios in which I would love to say exactly what I'm thinking. 

SCENE 1: COMBOS

Customer 1: I would like the number one combo.

Me: Okay, would you like that small, medium, or large?

Customer 1: No thank you.

Me: I'm sorry, your fries and drink.. do you want them small, medium, or large?

Customer 1: No I just want the sandwich.

Thoughts: That is not a combo, learn how to order and come back later. Bye. 

SCENE 2: NUGGETS

Customer 2: What size nuggets do yours come in?

Me: We have a 4 piece, 6 piece, and a 10 piece, but only in a combo.

Customer 2: I’ll take a 10 piece.

Me: Would you like your combo small, medium, or large?

Customer 2: No just the nuggets.

Thoughts: That was not an option, was it? No. Bye.

SCENE 3: NO.

Customer 3: Can I get *something we don’t serve*?

Me: No, we don’t carry that here.

Customer 3: Uhm, I just got that here last week.

Me: I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you got but we have never sold that..

Customer 3: This is ridiculous, I would like to speak to a manager blah blah blah blah

Thoughts: I don’t know what to tell you dude. WE DON’T HAVE CURLY FRIES. Bye.

Now, these really aren’t that bad, but sometimes customers are just ridiculous. The entire food industry is set up like crap when it comes to customer service. It is set up in a way that we can get walked all over and nothing can be done about it. I mean, customers come at us and insult us left and right over what goes on a burger. You think I don’t know what goes on a junior cheeseburger? Ive worked here for two years. If you were sitting on a train, or a bus, or something and someone through a milkshake at your face and insulted your intelligence, you wouldn’t say, “Well, I’m sorry we upset you, we will take your constructive criticism to heart, have a wonderful day.” No. You would be able to defend yourself. I understand being professional, but people come in and scream at us just because they know they can get away with it. We are abused as individuals on a daily basis, and it is sad. It is sad that I hate my job solely because of the way I am treated, when most of the time I am in the right. So no, kind sir, customers are not always right. They are mostly wrong. Throw another burger at me why don’t you. 

Stuck

              So, for this week’s post, I thought I would again dress the issue of why I still work in this hell hole. Let me tell you, I ask myself that same question every single time I put on that ugly uniform, but I am reminded of the answer when I try to escape. I am in college. Jobs are hard to find. You need experience to get experience. I am a full time student, taking 14 credits this semester. If you’re at delta at any time Monday- Thursday I am sure that you’ll see me wandering the halls. I am a busy bee and no one wants to hire someone that can barely work. My availability at work is as follows: Wednesday: 3-11, Friday: 10-7, Saturday: 10am-11pm, and Sunday: 10-8. That is some crappy availability. Now, imagine me trying to apply for jobs. Yeah, not going to good.

                The other thing about this being my availability is that it’s really not. This is my availability cut in half, because I can’t quit my crappy job until I am actually settled and sure of a new one. So who in the right mind would hire someone who can only work about 10 hours a week at most? No one. So of course I have story to back this up, and let me tell you I am one who gets my hopes up very high when I want something, which gets me in trouble more than I would like.

                I was shopping at Meijer a couple of weeks ago and ran into a girl I graduated with last year. She had just been employed by them the week prior and told me that they were still hiring. I was so excited. She told me who I should talk to and what to say when I dropped off my resume. I had an “in” and I was getting out. I ran home and filled out the application online. I waited three days and went to talk to their hiring manager, memorizing a script of positive answers to questions he may have on the way. When I got to Meijer that day, I went to the service desk to talk to him and the girl that greeted me said “I’m sorry, he’s in a meeting right now.” This was the start of the epic downfall that is my life.

                I left my resume with her and she told me that he would give me a call when he was done that day. I left the store and went to work, with high anticipation. Excitement still buzzed inside me. He would call, I knew it, and I was getting out of this fast food job. A few days passed and I began to get discouraged. “Is he busy?” “Did they lose my resume?” “Am I that unqualified?” are just some of the thoughts that passed me by that week. I was slouching around and drowning my sorrows in ice cream when I got a text from Chelsea (The girl I went to school with) telling me that the manager never got my resume but he was going to pull my online application.

                I got the call the next day. My stomach tried to escape itself as I answered. On the other end the manager talked to me about how excited he was that I applied and how it looked like I would be an amazing addition to their team, and how he would love to schedule me an interview –whenever my availability was better. “Apply later,” he said.

                There it was, the big fat “you’re stuck.” I am paying my own way through college with no help from anyone, including the school. I am stuck in this job for God knows how long. Am I sick of it? Yes. Do I want out? Yes. But unless you can deliver me a job, I’m screwed. I have applied for 11 jobs in the past year and a half, gotten only about 6 calls and they have all said that it’s not the right time. So until a good job that allows crappy availability falls into my lap, I’m going to go home, put on that uniform, and march into work unhappily. Well, not today, it’s Thursday.

A little pin of happiness

I thought a little change up in my ranting routine would be welcome. Instead of complaining about some crappy aspect of my job, this week I am going to tell you about a good one. Pins. Pins are a reward system that takes place at foodies. When we are good and do something extraordinary, we get a pin. We are like dogs, begging for treats. Some of us have hats filled with pins, and others have merely a few. I, in my two years here, have obtained a single pin: my one year pin.

When I completed a full year of employment I received my one year pin, thanking me for my hard work and dedication. I was stoked. It was a little achievement, but I got a freaking pin!! I could wear it on my hat with pride, and now I looked cooler than all the newbies that had lame pin-free hats. I wore this pin with pride, rubbed it in some faces, showed it off, because I had a pin and that made me cool. I was a four year old with a shiny new toy, captivated, spoiled. Soon, my single pin was not good enough. I wanted more, but they never came.

It’s not that I’m a bad worker, because the truth is I work harder than half of the people there, but my pins just never came. Pins were hard to obtain. There were no pins for day-to-day hard work, just extraordinary tasks. I watched new-hires got pins for going over the top to better themselves, watched others just bought their success off of Ebay, and I watched people suck up to improve their hats. I set out on a mission, a mission to pretty my oh-so ordinary uniform.

This made my sucktastic job a little more tolerable. I now went to work with a goal. I didn’t sweat the small stuff because I was working for the big picture, but the pins just never came. I desperately tried to be above and beyond with customer interaction, tried to get the orders out the fastest in the drive-through, and slaved over dishes and all of the tedious, overlooked things, but nothing. After a year of this, I was done. I would slope back into that world of pure meritocracy.

A few months ago I was offered the chance at being a five-star cashier, which I have mentioned previously. This meant going to a few classes held by my boss, passing a test at the end, and a big evaluation. These classes were held at a different Foodies location and would be with a bunch of other workers that I had never met. I had no idea what to expect at these classes or how to conduct myself. I became a shy girl who only participated in conversation through head nods and half smiles, but when the class began I was determined to stand out. Every question that my boss would ask, I would answer. I wanted this “semi-promotion” and I needed him to know that.

I had forgotten about this class, about my complete knowledge of my job and my amazing question-answering skills, until this week. My general manager (one step below the boss I mentioned) came up to me with a smile. She told me that she had just gotten off the phone with my boss and that he had nothing but good things to say about me. He told her that I represented the store very well, and that I was a delightful worker that he was glad to have on his team. With this she handed me a pin that had our logo and the word WOW written across.

Again, I lit up like a child receiving a new toy. I was beyond excited. I now had two pins, and they would be friends as they sat on my head and made my extra-ordinary uniform a little more extraordinary.