Hobbit
Senior Member
Ok, this is long, but probably worth reading. It's more for my benifit than yours.
Alright, I just had one of the worst nights I've ever had at work, and I've only been there a week and a half. Now, everyone in my house is asleep, so I have to vent elsewhere, and this is all-purpose chat, so it's elsewhere.
Ok, I work now in a grocery store deli (Publix, if you're curious). I've been there is last Saturday. This paragraph is just background info, so you can probably skip it from here on out if you're in a hurry. Now, the deli is basically divided into three sections. Half of it is for sliced meats and cheeses. We get the stuff in whole, both store brand and Boar's Head, and then slice however much you want as desired while you watch. Most of the other half is for chicken. We have traditional fried chicken, drummettes (both spicy and plain), hot wings, Mardi Gras wings, tenders, and rotisserie. Fried chicken is done in two friers. Rotisserie and Mardi Gras wings are done in an oven with racks that revolve around the heating coils. The third section, between the first two, is the sub bar, where we make sub sandwiches to order, using fresh sliced meat from section one. My job is just that of an average grunt. I slice meat, cook chicken, make subs, and serve customers who need it. I also clean up the place starting sometime between 6 and 7.
Ok, so I got there tonight at 4 and everything was fine. There wasn't a whole lot of business, and the most annoying thing happening was the fact that boxes of fried chicken come in packages with the same amount of every piece, yet everybody wanted a breast, so we had waaaaaay too much of everything else except drumsticks (which were in slightly lower demand). Oh well, time to go munch on a thigh and some hot wings while nothing's going on. I was doing well, mainly helping make chicken, as there were two more experienced people then me manning the meat slicing side. I also made the occasional sub sandwich. Then, 5:30 hit, and SHE arrived. You know who I'm talking about. Every workplace has one person that you always refer to as SHE or HE. Well, this SHE (ok, I'll stop being so dramatic) is practically a professional closer. She's been closing the chicken and sub sections 5 nights a week since the store opened almost 5 years ago. That's all she's been doing...every week. Well, she's got here routine, now, and no force in Heaven, or on Earth, or beneath the Earth is going to keep her from her little routine. The apocalypse could be happening, and she'd be cleaning grease traps while nuclear winter settled on our bombed out store. Anyway, enough about her. It's time for a new paragraph.
So, at 6:00, the two people I like the most in the section ended their shifts and took off. Not a problem. I'll see them again. However, this left me with one person I like ok, but she was only going to be there until 9 and was going to spend most of the night doing dishes. So that left me with chicken lady. I went ahead and took my break before the only other worker got exiled to the washroom. As soon as I got back, the floodgates opened. I had people lining up out the door, all wanting sliced meat and cheese and no chicken. However, chicken lady was too busy cleaning out one of the fryers and chatting it up with a friend, so when I was about to simply collapse, she dragged the other lady out of the washroom to help me, but by then, I was almost done, anyway, so she went ahead and cleaned one of the slicers for me, to help expidite closing. Well, right after she left, I was finishing up the last 2 customers, when disaster struck. The floor, which is hard plastic, was still wet and soapy from cleaning the slicer. Well, I turned to get something (thank GOD I didn't have a $150 proscutto ham in my hands), and I slipped. High gear and slick surfaces don't mix. Now, many of you have slipped before, but few of you have slipped with such gusto and amazingness that I did tonight. I mean, some people talk about a lack of grace, but this required a negative amount of grace. I mean, I started to slip, and by the time I hit the ground, I was facing in the complete opposite direction with no limbs facing the direction they should have. My feet also managed to pass my head before my shoulder hit the ground. Oh, that's another thing. I started to slip to landing on my front, but managed to do a 270 degree twist to land on my right shoulder. Chicken lady saw the entire spectacle, and didn't seem to care, even though I let out a heavy yell after I unstunned myself enough to realise how much I hurt. The customers that saw it seemed more concerned than I was about my fall, but less concerned than chicken lady was about her floor. Now, I still had a buttload of work ahead, and my back hurt.
Ok, now, with a huge ache across by whole body, I slipped into the back room for a well-earned drink of water. Oh, did I mention that one of the meat guys had been in the deli three times to tell me and chicken lady that we had a shipment of raw meat that needed storing? Didn't think so. Well, I got my drink of water and turned around and what did I see? That's right, the whole shipment was still on the pallette, unmoved since the meat guys took it off the truck. I had been slicing meat for a solid hour and a half and knew that it took the meat guys 15 minutes to get their stuff off the pallette before we could get our stuff, so that meant I had less than 15 minutes before we had to throw the whole shipment out. I then threw my whole body into the effort, wrenched back and all, and made it with 5 minutes to spare. Then, I got paged to go to the deli. Well, this time, I took the back hall, and what did I see? I saw the day's shipment of potato salad, cole slaw, and various other refridgerated stuff just sitting in the hall. I saw chicken lady wrestling around with it a good 3 hours before, and had it been raw meat, we would have lost the whole shipment. As it was, I was unsure if it was still good, but the stuff is all sealed airtight and I'd seen stuff like it survive outside the fridge longer at home, so I decided to put it in anyway. Well, when I opened the door, there was no space in there due to two full carts blocking the way. I decided that my coworkers were discouraged by this and just took off without solving the problem, hoping it would go away. Well, I unloaded one onto the shelves, thus making room for our shipment. I probably saved the store a good $1000 by myself. Will anyone important ever know? Probably not. Does anybody else care? Hell no.
Well, I kept working my tail off, cleaning this and scrubbing that and making everything I saw spotless and sanitized. When we closed, I cleaned the last slicer and then the floor while chicken lady just lazed around and watched. When I was done, she basically just told me everything I had done wrong...in detail...with a lecture on why I should do it right. Then she went around behind me and did a half-*** job of everything I had already done (and I did it with more elbow grease than I see her put out in a week). After putting up with all of this for hours, I feel like I want to strangle her. I was in over my head from the time I got back from my break until I left, but she couldn't be bothered to lift a finger to help me until I WAS ALREADY DONE!!! Now, I sit in my chair typing. I'm pissed off, sore from head to toe, about to collapse, and incredibly glad I don't have to close again until Friday. I wanna scream, but I'd wake my mom.
Anyway, just had to get that off my chest. Thoughts? Comments? Empathy?
Alright, I just had one of the worst nights I've ever had at work, and I've only been there a week and a half. Now, everyone in my house is asleep, so I have to vent elsewhere, and this is all-purpose chat, so it's elsewhere.
Ok, I work now in a grocery store deli (Publix, if you're curious). I've been there is last Saturday. This paragraph is just background info, so you can probably skip it from here on out if you're in a hurry. Now, the deli is basically divided into three sections. Half of it is for sliced meats and cheeses. We get the stuff in whole, both store brand and Boar's Head, and then slice however much you want as desired while you watch. Most of the other half is for chicken. We have traditional fried chicken, drummettes (both spicy and plain), hot wings, Mardi Gras wings, tenders, and rotisserie. Fried chicken is done in two friers. Rotisserie and Mardi Gras wings are done in an oven with racks that revolve around the heating coils. The third section, between the first two, is the sub bar, where we make sub sandwiches to order, using fresh sliced meat from section one. My job is just that of an average grunt. I slice meat, cook chicken, make subs, and serve customers who need it. I also clean up the place starting sometime between 6 and 7.
Ok, so I got there tonight at 4 and everything was fine. There wasn't a whole lot of business, and the most annoying thing happening was the fact that boxes of fried chicken come in packages with the same amount of every piece, yet everybody wanted a breast, so we had waaaaaay too much of everything else except drumsticks (which were in slightly lower demand). Oh well, time to go munch on a thigh and some hot wings while nothing's going on. I was doing well, mainly helping make chicken, as there were two more experienced people then me manning the meat slicing side. I also made the occasional sub sandwich. Then, 5:30 hit, and SHE arrived. You know who I'm talking about. Every workplace has one person that you always refer to as SHE or HE. Well, this SHE (ok, I'll stop being so dramatic) is practically a professional closer. She's been closing the chicken and sub sections 5 nights a week since the store opened almost 5 years ago. That's all she's been doing...every week. Well, she's got here routine, now, and no force in Heaven, or on Earth, or beneath the Earth is going to keep her from her little routine. The apocalypse could be happening, and she'd be cleaning grease traps while nuclear winter settled on our bombed out store. Anyway, enough about her. It's time for a new paragraph.
So, at 6:00, the two people I like the most in the section ended their shifts and took off. Not a problem. I'll see them again. However, this left me with one person I like ok, but she was only going to be there until 9 and was going to spend most of the night doing dishes. So that left me with chicken lady. I went ahead and took my break before the only other worker got exiled to the washroom. As soon as I got back, the floodgates opened. I had people lining up out the door, all wanting sliced meat and cheese and no chicken. However, chicken lady was too busy cleaning out one of the fryers and chatting it up with a friend, so when I was about to simply collapse, she dragged the other lady out of the washroom to help me, but by then, I was almost done, anyway, so she went ahead and cleaned one of the slicers for me, to help expidite closing. Well, right after she left, I was finishing up the last 2 customers, when disaster struck. The floor, which is hard plastic, was still wet and soapy from cleaning the slicer. Well, I turned to get something (thank GOD I didn't have a $150 proscutto ham in my hands), and I slipped. High gear and slick surfaces don't mix. Now, many of you have slipped before, but few of you have slipped with such gusto and amazingness that I did tonight. I mean, some people talk about a lack of grace, but this required a negative amount of grace. I mean, I started to slip, and by the time I hit the ground, I was facing in the complete opposite direction with no limbs facing the direction they should have. My feet also managed to pass my head before my shoulder hit the ground. Oh, that's another thing. I started to slip to landing on my front, but managed to do a 270 degree twist to land on my right shoulder. Chicken lady saw the entire spectacle, and didn't seem to care, even though I let out a heavy yell after I unstunned myself enough to realise how much I hurt. The customers that saw it seemed more concerned than I was about my fall, but less concerned than chicken lady was about her floor. Now, I still had a buttload of work ahead, and my back hurt.
Ok, now, with a huge ache across by whole body, I slipped into the back room for a well-earned drink of water. Oh, did I mention that one of the meat guys had been in the deli three times to tell me and chicken lady that we had a shipment of raw meat that needed storing? Didn't think so. Well, I got my drink of water and turned around and what did I see? That's right, the whole shipment was still on the pallette, unmoved since the meat guys took it off the truck. I had been slicing meat for a solid hour and a half and knew that it took the meat guys 15 minutes to get their stuff off the pallette before we could get our stuff, so that meant I had less than 15 minutes before we had to throw the whole shipment out. I then threw my whole body into the effort, wrenched back and all, and made it with 5 minutes to spare. Then, I got paged to go to the deli. Well, this time, I took the back hall, and what did I see? I saw the day's shipment of potato salad, cole slaw, and various other refridgerated stuff just sitting in the hall. I saw chicken lady wrestling around with it a good 3 hours before, and had it been raw meat, we would have lost the whole shipment. As it was, I was unsure if it was still good, but the stuff is all sealed airtight and I'd seen stuff like it survive outside the fridge longer at home, so I decided to put it in anyway. Well, when I opened the door, there was no space in there due to two full carts blocking the way. I decided that my coworkers were discouraged by this and just took off without solving the problem, hoping it would go away. Well, I unloaded one onto the shelves, thus making room for our shipment. I probably saved the store a good $1000 by myself. Will anyone important ever know? Probably not. Does anybody else care? Hell no.
Well, I kept working my tail off, cleaning this and scrubbing that and making everything I saw spotless and sanitized. When we closed, I cleaned the last slicer and then the floor while chicken lady just lazed around and watched. When I was done, she basically just told me everything I had done wrong...in detail...with a lecture on why I should do it right. Then she went around behind me and did a half-*** job of everything I had already done (and I did it with more elbow grease than I see her put out in a week). After putting up with all of this for hours, I feel like I want to strangle her. I was in over my head from the time I got back from my break until I left, but she couldn't be bothered to lift a finger to help me until I WAS ALREADY DONE!!! Now, I sit in my chair typing. I'm pissed off, sore from head to toe, about to collapse, and incredibly glad I don't have to close again until Friday. I wanna scream, but I'd wake my mom.
Anyway, just had to get that off my chest. Thoughts? Comments? Empathy?
It can't get any worse from here.
