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So it was quite the weekend. Here's some highlights.
You're Useless!
SC: *rattles off sandwich order +cheese*
Me: What kind of cheese would you like?
SC: Cheese.
Me: I heard that, but what kind would you like?
SC: *huffy sigh* I said Cheese.
Me: We've gone over that already. What kind? We have..
SC: I said CHEESE!
Me: But what ki-
SC: You're so USELESS! *storms off*
Seriously? There's no wrong answer, but if you leave the line blank you will lose credit for it.
Wait....How?
We serve wheat bulkies at the deli on a regular basis. White ones aren't put out unless we don't have subrolls.
SC: Can I get <order> on a white bulkie?
Me: We have wheat bulkies. Or white sub rolls.
SC: No white bulkies?
Me: Nope.
SC: You are racist. *walks off*
Excu-u-u-se Me, Princess
(cookie to whomever gets above reference)
We've closed for the night and we're cleaning up. I'm going around wiping tables down when this girl comes up and presses her face against the gate, scowling at me. She wants to know if we're still serving food.
Now, we close at 6:30 on weekends. It was now 7:00. So of course the answer's no.
The floodgates opened. WHARFLAGBLLHBVFYHHJGELEVENTY WHY AREN'T YOU OPEN! I'm going to starve! You people are so hateful! Wait 'till I tell my daddy about you!
Freshmen.
No! It Doesn't Work Like That!
There was a show this weekend by the Hilltop Players, a drama club this week. So everyone and their grandma was here to see the show. And all of them came down to nab something to eat beforehand.
I had jumped into the deli to cover a CW while she took her break. I'm making quick business of the orders and feeling pretty happy about my speed.
A 50-something creature that I'm assuming was female ( and must've played Professor Umbridge in the HP movies) asks me if I can make a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich for her daughter. I peek over and see a 3-4 year old girl, face covered in freckles. Cute.
Unfortunately, our deli is stocked with meat, cheese, and veggies. Peanut butter and jelly is next to the toaster. She can mae her own sandwich. I can't. I politely explain that I don't have what I needed to make one for her, and pointed out the toaster area.
Her face sucked itself in. "You mean I have to do it MYSELF?! That's YOUR job!" She storms off, dragging the child with her (poor kid). I hope that's the last of her. It's not.
Just as a rush starts up, I'm halfway done with another student's sandwich when this small white plate gets shoved into my face. There's a pile of peanut butter, a pile of jelly, and two pieces of white bread.
Yep. She's 90% of the way there and she just cut off a line of 7 students to see if I'll make it now. She shakes the plate to get my attention, but I ignore and start the next student's order. Because they were actually IN LINE.
"Excuse ME!!" she croaks, loud enough so Bornea could've heard her. My boss hears her, and comes over to investigate. I can hear her 3-4 year old girl yelping "I want pea butt sammich!"
My boss sees the plate she's tried to force into my hands and goes "Oh, you've GOT to be shittin' me." When she tries to say that it's my job, he shoos her away so I can do my real job: taking care of the line that's now formed.
She'd still glare at me from her table.
And those're just the highlights. I'll post more tomorrow. Right now I'm regretting that my campus is a dry one.
You're Useless!
SC: *rattles off sandwich order +cheese*
Me: What kind of cheese would you like?
SC: Cheese.
Me: I heard that, but what kind would you like?
SC: *huffy sigh* I said Cheese.
Me: We've gone over that already. What kind? We have..
SC: I said CHEESE!
Me: But what ki-
SC: You're so USELESS! *storms off*
Seriously? There's no wrong answer, but if you leave the line blank you will lose credit for it.
Wait....How?
We serve wheat bulkies at the deli on a regular basis. White ones aren't put out unless we don't have subrolls.
SC: Can I get <order> on a white bulkie?
Me: We have wheat bulkies. Or white sub rolls.
SC: No white bulkies?
Me: Nope.
SC: You are racist. *walks off*
Excu-u-u-se Me, Princess
(cookie to whomever gets above reference)
We've closed for the night and we're cleaning up. I'm going around wiping tables down when this girl comes up and presses her face against the gate, scowling at me. She wants to know if we're still serving food.
Now, we close at 6:30 on weekends. It was now 7:00. So of course the answer's no.
The floodgates opened. WHARFLAGBLLHBVFYHHJGELEVENTY WHY AREN'T YOU OPEN! I'm going to starve! You people are so hateful! Wait 'till I tell my daddy about you!
Freshmen.
No! It Doesn't Work Like That!
There was a show this weekend by the Hilltop Players, a drama club this week. So everyone and their grandma was here to see the show. And all of them came down to nab something to eat beforehand.
I had jumped into the deli to cover a CW while she took her break. I'm making quick business of the orders and feeling pretty happy about my speed.
A 50-something creature that I'm assuming was female ( and must've played Professor Umbridge in the HP movies) asks me if I can make a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich for her daughter. I peek over and see a 3-4 year old girl, face covered in freckles. Cute.
Unfortunately, our deli is stocked with meat, cheese, and veggies. Peanut butter and jelly is next to the toaster. She can mae her own sandwich. I can't. I politely explain that I don't have what I needed to make one for her, and pointed out the toaster area.
Her face sucked itself in. "You mean I have to do it MYSELF?! That's YOUR job!" She storms off, dragging the child with her (poor kid). I hope that's the last of her. It's not.
Just as a rush starts up, I'm halfway done with another student's sandwich when this small white plate gets shoved into my face. There's a pile of peanut butter, a pile of jelly, and two pieces of white bread.
Yep. She's 90% of the way there and she just cut off a line of 7 students to see if I'll make it now. She shakes the plate to get my attention, but I ignore and start the next student's order. Because they were actually IN LINE.
"Excuse ME!!" she croaks, loud enough so Bornea could've heard her. My boss hears her, and comes over to investigate. I can hear her 3-4 year old girl yelping "I want pea butt sammich!"
My boss sees the plate she's tried to force into my hands and goes "Oh, you've GOT to be shittin' me." When she tries to say that it's my job, he shoos her away so I can do my real job: taking care of the line that's now formed.
She'd still glare at me from her table.
And those're just the highlights. I'll post more tomorrow. Right now I'm regretting that my campus is a dry one.
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