TheByc'sBlog

TheByc'sBlog
My Many Hats

2009-06-10 10:04 PM
Tired of Bitchin'

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Mood:
Annoyed

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I was finally able to sit and chat with the boss today. Her expectations are pretty high, and I am not so sure I want to even try. Her level of cleanliness is do-able, but the way she is going about it really turns me off. SHe yelled today that she is ready to "write up a manager" over the oil on the fryers, and fries on the floor. This does nothing to motivate me, and I welcome her to start documenting my file all she wants. She bitched and moaned all day, then as I was leaving, she tells me what a fabulous job I have done. To me, this is conflicting messages, and I am worn out. Physically and mentally...just worn out. I have asked others how do they deal with her, and they just say she is the boss, and it is what it is. WHAT? We have to be treated like crap? I understand keeping things clean, but yelling and downgrading? I think it is BS, and I doubt I will work too hard. Her anxiety level is off the charts. Let's say you and three cars behind you each have a small fry on your order. The first basket of fries will be ready in 30 seconds. She wants to park you, and perhaps the next car, as to not 'slow down' the line. SHe will then get to you when it is more convenient. I can see it if it is more than a minute, and I have the next order complete already, but I don't usually have a person just sitting around, doing nothing, that can be my 'parked car' runner. She was an 'extra' body today...I believe that accuracy counts more than speed. Speed means NOTHING to me if we cannot get the orders correct. I have NEVER IN MY LIFE seen so many messed up orders than I saw today. But...we were fast as hell...YAY? BS...She gets everyone so damn ansy they get scared, and just start pushing bags, and buttons. SHe told me how horrified she was when last weeks numbers came back, showing the DT was slower than it had been in MONTHS. I don't remember a lot of mistakes last week...counts for nothing in her book.

A woman and a 12 yr old boy (or so) came in today. I take the order, or try to anyway. She wants a 'two cheeseburger meal', then sends the kid out to the car to get a wallet. He sets off the car alarm, so she has to run out there. Comes back inside (Thank God they were the only inside customers I had at the time) and she then states the burgers are to be PLAIN. omg, she started this order two mintues ago...She then adds another sandwich, and finishes the order. Pays for it, and I get it assembled for them...Now, we are busier than hell in the drive-thru, and she comes back to say that we put 'stuff' on her sandwich. She has the bun turned over to show me 'the stuff'...she say to me, she wanted it 'without any of the stuff' on it. I take the damn thing, and toss it in the waste bucket, and order her up a new one...PLAIN. I finally get that new one for her (She had to wait, and the kitchen was now backed up) she takes it out, then yes, she returns..she is visibly upset now (yeah, me too) she says to me, "I told you I was on a diet (she did, and I cared??) I wanted the pickles and onions, I just didn't want the sauce, this one is plain and dry" OHMYCHEESUS...some folks need to just go to the buffet as they cannot even order what they want properly. That sandwich has mayo, ketchup, pickles, onions, lettuce, tomato and perhaps cheese on request. I guess sauce is mayo and ketchup in this instance. And I guess it is also 'stuff'..."I don't want any of this stuff on it" means: "get it right, the way I want it, without me being able to communicate exactly what the hell that is".

I took a much needed break while those two were eating. When I came out of one stall in the ladies room, that kid was walking IN to the other stall...IN THE LADIES ROOM. Must be in the genes...total winners...

One of the girls I now work with, was at another store with me before. She was the one triplet that was transferred. She works 12 hour shifts on Wednesdays, because that is the way she wants her hours. She started in with me this morning, asking if I would work 10 hours, staying two haours late, so she could go home early. First...uh, no. I don't want to. Second, no, that would put me into overtime, and that would go over like a fart in church. Third...uh, no, not a chance.

Mike got home from work early today. I see he mowed the lawn, washed the dishes, and was able to make spaghetti with his leftover meatballs. I love my man.

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