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Turned in my two weeks notice today, because after this semester ends there will be no way possible for me to continue working where I am right now. It all depends on one test I am waiting to pass so I can apply for my teaching license.
Nonetheless, the suckyness and entitlement came out in absolute droves this weekend.
VRS, They're Breeding
I had this guy come over to the counter wanting a sammich. First he looks at a green sign that lists all the special sandwiches we make during the lunch block from Monday to Friday. He asks me if I can make him one of those.
Me: I'm sorry, I can't make any of the sandwiches on that sign.
SC: And why not?
Me: Those are our lunch specials. We'll make those during the week and we put them in here *motioning to the display case that is off*
SC: So you won't make one?
Me: I don't have any of the ingredients to make any of those. If I did, I would. But I don't.
SC: *leaning on the counter* Remind me again how this place works.
Me: *buh?* You tell me what kind of bread you want everything to go on, and then you tell me what you want to go in between the bread.
SC: And you're not doing that. SOMEONE here isn't doing their job. This isn't how it works.
He walked off without getting anything. I was still kind of expecting him to go "This is unacceptable, Dave".
N, I Freaking Love You
I may have mentioned N here before. N is an ASM who works Friday and Saturday, and tolerates BS just about as much as I do. Except when people tick him off, he gets away with retaliating. We'll share terrible jokes and ideas about how to get back at the idiots.
Some gems he uttered this weekend:
"That girl looks like she just got out of a swim meet. And it's 19 degrees outside. What a nutjob."
"I see London, I see France...dang, dude, those are ugly underpants."
SC: Why do you keep asking me what kind of cheese I want?
N: Why do you keep asking me why I ask that question?
"Don't mess with us, we has knives."
"Fsking snowman, stop dancing and singing. I'll spork you."
Oops
Tonight was crazy busy, and a coworker (MB) came over to help because I had a line 20 people deep. We would take two at a time and call someone over when we were done. It seemed to help (even though I'm totally not used to having two people in the same area. It's like demented leap frog).
I'm trying to call the next girl in line over because I was free, but she's either not hearing me or is ignoring me (I'm thinking the latter). I try again, a little louder, but she still doesn't hear me (yet L in pizza clearly could, and she's 13 feet from my counter). I try one more time, "I can help who's next?" as loud as I can possibly muster.
"Okay. Sorr-Ree," she goes. I apologize and tell her that's it's been that kind of a night, and I couldn't tell if she heard me or not because she wasn't answering me.
"I don't care, it's not my problem." She then barks a complex sandwich order at me that takes longer than usual because it's so detailed and because an extra body is in my area.
When we closed and I was wheeling the cart to dishroom, we crossed paths again and I tried to apologize for seeming bitchy, just in case I was because I was under a lot of stress at the moment and my sugars were dropping, and I usually can keep tensions under wraps.
She wanted nothing of it. Even better, she flipped me off.
I made sure to relay the whole story to BossmanS just in case she decides to pitch a fit about me. I'm not too worried: BossmanS is pretty lax about complaints towards his employees, and tends to believe that 99% of the time it's the complainer's fault to begin with.
Questions of Legend
Me: And what kind of cheese would you like?
SC: Yes.
Oh f. This question. I have heard stories, no, legends, about this headbanger of all questions. Because, of course, the correct answer when I ask you which of our four fabulous cheeses you want, the correct answer is a resounding "Yes."
Let's Rethink This...
This happened last Wednesday, so it's really a sighting, but it's kind of minute so rather than make a whole thread for that I'll just put it here.
So...you work at Health Services. Nice. You want to stop the spread of bacon flu. Nice. You give out spray hand sanitizer that looks like an Epi-Pen to me. Nice.
You're also holding a vaccine clinic, right near the dessert tray, to give students the intranasal vaccine for the H1N1 virus....
Wait. What?
You're squirting a live virus into people's olfactory passages, in the vicinity of food? How is this good?
(I ended up getting it anyway, since I've been meaning to. I just still think it was an odd location.)
sigh.....just one more week of this madness and I'm free. I'll put another post up if I remember anything else.
Nonetheless, the suckyness and entitlement came out in absolute droves this weekend.
VRS, They're Breeding
I had this guy come over to the counter wanting a sammich. First he looks at a green sign that lists all the special sandwiches we make during the lunch block from Monday to Friday. He asks me if I can make him one of those.
Me: I'm sorry, I can't make any of the sandwiches on that sign.
SC: And why not?
Me: Those are our lunch specials. We'll make those during the week and we put them in here *motioning to the display case that is off*
SC: So you won't make one?
Me: I don't have any of the ingredients to make any of those. If I did, I would. But I don't.
SC: *leaning on the counter* Remind me again how this place works.
Me: *buh?* You tell me what kind of bread you want everything to go on, and then you tell me what you want to go in between the bread.
SC: And you're not doing that. SOMEONE here isn't doing their job. This isn't how it works.
He walked off without getting anything. I was still kind of expecting him to go "This is unacceptable, Dave".
N, I Freaking Love You
I may have mentioned N here before. N is an ASM who works Friday and Saturday, and tolerates BS just about as much as I do. Except when people tick him off, he gets away with retaliating. We'll share terrible jokes and ideas about how to get back at the idiots.
Some gems he uttered this weekend:
"That girl looks like she just got out of a swim meet. And it's 19 degrees outside. What a nutjob."
"I see London, I see France...dang, dude, those are ugly underpants."
SC: Why do you keep asking me what kind of cheese I want?
N: Why do you keep asking me why I ask that question?
"Don't mess with us, we has knives."
"Fsking snowman, stop dancing and singing. I'll spork you."
Oops
Tonight was crazy busy, and a coworker (MB) came over to help because I had a line 20 people deep. We would take two at a time and call someone over when we were done. It seemed to help (even though I'm totally not used to having two people in the same area. It's like demented leap frog).
I'm trying to call the next girl in line over because I was free, but she's either not hearing me or is ignoring me (I'm thinking the latter). I try again, a little louder, but she still doesn't hear me (yet L in pizza clearly could, and she's 13 feet from my counter). I try one more time, "I can help who's next?" as loud as I can possibly muster.
"Okay. Sorr-Ree," she goes. I apologize and tell her that's it's been that kind of a night, and I couldn't tell if she heard me or not because she wasn't answering me.
"I don't care, it's not my problem." She then barks a complex sandwich order at me that takes longer than usual because it's so detailed and because an extra body is in my area.
When we closed and I was wheeling the cart to dishroom, we crossed paths again and I tried to apologize for seeming bitchy, just in case I was because I was under a lot of stress at the moment and my sugars were dropping, and I usually can keep tensions under wraps.
She wanted nothing of it. Even better, she flipped me off.
I made sure to relay the whole story to BossmanS just in case she decides to pitch a fit about me. I'm not too worried: BossmanS is pretty lax about complaints towards his employees, and tends to believe that 99% of the time it's the complainer's fault to begin with.
Questions of Legend
Me: And what kind of cheese would you like?
SC: Yes.
Oh f. This question. I have heard stories, no, legends, about this headbanger of all questions. Because, of course, the correct answer when I ask you which of our four fabulous cheeses you want, the correct answer is a resounding "Yes."
Let's Rethink This...
This happened last Wednesday, so it's really a sighting, but it's kind of minute so rather than make a whole thread for that I'll just put it here.
So...you work at Health Services. Nice. You want to stop the spread of bacon flu. Nice. You give out spray hand sanitizer that looks like an Epi-Pen to me. Nice.
You're also holding a vaccine clinic, right near the dessert tray, to give students the intranasal vaccine for the H1N1 virus....
Wait. What?
You're squirting a live virus into people's olfactory passages, in the vicinity of food? How is this good?
(I ended up getting it anyway, since I've been meaning to. I just still think it was an odd location.)
sigh.....just one more week of this madness and I'm free. I'll put another post up if I remember anything else.
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