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Gah.  Why am I awake?

I think my circadian cycles are staging a teenaged-style rebellion.  "But I don't WANNA go to bed at a sensible hour and get up and go to work!  I wanna wake up at random intervals and play and think and write and....whatdayamean need to pay the bills?"

I think I know why I have so little tolerance for overpriviledged assholes.  My inner child is one.  Which is funny, considering the way I grew up.

I survived the Superbowl of Food Service in Chapel Hill.  And I didn't kill anyone.  And I have walked away with one new bit of advice for people.

If you are a regular who always gets the same thing  (to the point where your order is rung up almost the minute your smiling face walks in the door), PLEASE be very clear--and maybe add surreptitious hand gestures and desperate looks like you're undercover and don't want to be found out--that you are changing your order.  A breezy, "I feel like something different today"  is excellent code for  "Don't let Granny know I ask for extra bacon on my chef salad."

If you always get meat chili on your nachos but can't do it without risking the threat of who knows what from your family, BE SURE to specify you want the veggie chili.  I won't tell.

In other words, y'all have no idea how many orders we had to remake Sunday.  Oy.  And I had to verbally smack down one of the new BOH guys that, no, you can't just take the bacon off.  It needs to be remade.

Just add Religious Dietary Police to my other work honoriffics.  Currently, I am also the Ice Queen (I have this thing about the ice bins getting past 1/3 full.  Do YOU want a drink where the ice has been chipped from the bottom of the bin?  Didn't think so) and MacGyver.

Is there some hidden codicil in my work contracts that I must be able to rig plumbing?  Because I think I need to charge extra.  This is--no lie--the fifth place I've worked where I've been hailed a hero because I can fix a broken commode chain with a paper clip.  Usually during an especially busy service.

I swear, I'm going to write about something other than work one of these days.


( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
May. 11th, 2016 10:16 am (UTC)

I have been up for the past three hours writing. Maybe it's contagious?

I, too, am impressed with your plumbing wizardry. Mad skills.

May. 11th, 2016 01:38 pm (UTC)
I think you should write a book about work.
May. 11th, 2016 02:29 pm (UTC)
My mother hates pickles. When she goes to Chick fil A, she's always very clear that she wants the breaded chicken sandwich, *without pickles*. About 95 percent of the time they get it right without a problem. The other 5 percent, they're on autopilot, and they slap the pickles on there without thinking about it. They realize what they've done, peel the pickles off, and try to hand the sandwich to my mother. She politely explains that she can still taste the pickle juice on the sandwich, and she'd like them to make her a fresh one. Fortunately, I don't think anyone's ever openly complained when she's asked for her sandwich to be remade. If they'd been paying attn the first time, they wouldn't have had to remake it!
May. 11th, 2016 09:25 pm (UTC)
That's the thing. It doesn't matter whose mistake it is, it should be remade. Period. My issue was the kids (and there were SEVERAL) who cheerfully eat meat during the school year, then show up with mom, dad, and granny who are Hindu and think you'll just modify their order without them saying anything.

Er...not gonna racially profile your meal. Sorry.

I'm 1000% behind your mom on the pickle issue.
May. 12th, 2016 09:19 am (UTC)
Your work writing is making me hungry for Macallisters though... We have one near the other township.
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )


The fucking YARN FAIRY!

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