A week focused mainly on customers

and it wasn't a pretty sight!

I'm not sure if it's because I have become more adept at sandwich-making, but starting last Saturday, the customers made their way into my attention. It started with 3 oversized women who ordered 3 footlong BLTs on white. With double bacon. That was 16 pieces of bacon. That is an effing lot of bacon. Smothered, naturally, in mayo. I didn't bother with the lite mayo. That entire day seemed about obesity, from beginning to end. A man came in who probably weight many many hundreds of pounds -- double meat footlong on white with lots of mayo. The day ended with a tiny, elderly lady who ordered a giant footlong -- another double-meat with lots of mayo. There was a strange disconnect between this slender little woman who probably didn't top 100 and her giant sandwich. At the register, she finally couldn't keep it in. She confided in a whisper (I don't know who she thought might overhear) that she was picking it up for a friend's son. "He weighs 700 pounds. She's killing him with kindness!" The day just really saddened me. Each one of those giant BLTs would have fed 4. :(

Sunday turned into a day about manners, or lack thereof. We had a line out to the parking lot from 10:30am until 3pm, nonstop. A young woman came in and got a cell phone call just as she was about to order. She spent the entire time on the phone, while I kept asking her what she wanted. She would occasionally look up and answer -- through the glass and so quickly I usually couldn't understand her response. She didn't seem to notice the long line behind her that she was holding up. Amazing that her phone call couldn't wait 1 or 2 minutes while she ordered her sandwich. Amazing that she thought that saying "Please" and "Thank you" equalled simple consideration of others.

And then came the woman by herself in line who ordered a single sandwich. We traveled all the way up the line and I was literally about to ring it up when suddenly, like magic, 2 small children appeared out of nowhere. She smiled cleverly and said, "I have 2 more sandwiches to order." I suggested that we move back to the beginning where the bread and meat were, so I could start the sandwiches as she ordered. She refused. Instead, she gave me the entire orders at once, forcing me to run up and down the line to double-check everything, and trying not to bump into co-workers. The person next to me got confused, thinking I was making a sandwich now for the man in line just after this woman. And skipped him. So he got annoyed and complained loudly. NOW the woman waiting at the register understood why I looked annoyed that she hadn't mentioned the other sandwiches and more annoyed that she refused to move so she wouldn't lose her place at the front of the line. She looked a little guilty at having caused the confusion. She's lucky she didn't cause an accident -- there's not a lot of space back there and the ovens are *hot!* I got her sandwiches done and she succeeded, with 3 sandwiches, in staying ahead of the man by himself with 1 sandwich. Just as I was about to ring her up, she said, "Just to be even more of a pain in the ass, I'd like one piece of pizza, too." I knew the answer, but my boss was standing right there, so I very sweetly turned to her and asked if we sold single pieces of pizza. Donna snapped, "NO. And we're out of pizza too!" The woman's face fell. It fell further when I sweetly suggested that she could get single pieces of pizza at any gas station in town. She walked out in a huff. Like gas station pizza is a big step down from Walmarts pizza. :rofl:

Monday was about my young co-worker's total lack of manners toward me. All day annoying me. His explanation is, "I just don't want you to get yelled at." I haven't answered yet that at my age, I don't give a flying fuck if someone yells at me. Just eff off, kiddo, you are NOT the boss of me :D

I started to seriously dislike people. And I mean seriously.

And then something shifted a bit. On Wednesday afternoon, an attractive, quiet and somewhat elegant British man of about 60 came in. Our eyes met, smiling, and there was an instant connection. So much so, that I kept wondering if I imagined it while making his sandwich. He felt like someone I could be with. I looked up at the register and our eyes met again. It was not my imagination. He seemed a little confused about where he was. I felt like a dork, in my freakin subway visor making sandwiches. There was no judgement in his eyes. We were equals. I haven't felt that kind of face-to-face connection with anybody in years. Soul recognition. Back in the prep room, I cried for a couple seconds. And again, when I got home. Why do I always meet the right people at entirely the wrong time and place?

On Friday afternoon, a handsome young man of about Ross' age came in. He was the anti-Ross! He was polite. He was charming. He flirted with me. I flirted back. No hint of Harold and Maude there -- just flirting like a young man would to make an older woman feel like she's still an attractive woman. He was fun and sweet. He dropped all his change into the tip jar. He made my afternoon, and I thank him.

When I read your writing, I feel as though I'm there.

It's odd, isn't it, how customers come in clusters. Like you had a lot of gluttons on one day and even the customer who wasn't a glutton was shopping for a glutton.

Ehh, I don't know so much that I would think "the right people at the wrong place." That might be you, transferring another value system on to him.

Here's an example. I have a very lovely friend who happens to have an attraction for a guy who is not doing so well in life now. My friend is well-established in life, both financially and with her career. It doesn't matter one whit to her that this guy is not a classic American success story. She just likes him for who he is.

It is always thought-provoking to read your reports, NL.


Cher

I worked in customer service once, and I still have stories that I remember from that experience.

For some reason, you needed this (but hopefully not for too long!)

I was fired without notice today. I have been expecting it. The store is a bunch of 20 year olds and me. I was a misfit from day 1, and the girls were setting me up over and over. By that I mean things like: I was washing dishes and Donna, the manager, asked me to go chop some veggies. While I was chopping veggies, someone washed a couple dishes and then went out front. A short time later Donna found a knife dropped into the dishwater in the sink. I was blamed because I was the "last one" washing dishes. I didn't and I wasn't, but I didn't make a note of who was and I wasn't going to make an issue of it. Damned if you do; damned if you don't. That sort of thing was happening 3-4 times/day. Every mistake I made was a big deal. They make the same mistakes all day long...not a problem.

It's funny, I hoped for 1 more week, but some time ago had the thought I would earn back just $600 of the $800 I spent on the water heater. And that is almost exactly what I have earned after 85 hours of grueling work.

I needed this time anyway, to take care of the farm and maybe get a day or two at the beach, since we are finally having summer. And I have much writing to do :)

Aha, you DID get what you needed from the job....six hundred bucks!

Good grief, though.

:eyes:

You have a great attitude about it. This reminds me of stuff like drug testing for shopping cart attendants ... The most humble of jobs always provide the worst treatment. Like the job itself isn't enough...

Your saga had me thinking about the last waitressing job I had. Same age group. The managers kept telling me I wasn't a "team player". But they never told me what I WASN'T doing. I helped deliver food and bus tables that weren't mine. I did all my side work with no complaints. To this day, I still do not know what the fig they were talking about. It must have been perception. Because I was older and more secure in myself? I didn't get fired, but I sure thought I might.

Go get 'em!

from irrational people. It was precisely that you were secure in yourself that you bothered them, because they are *not* secure in themselves. I suspect that is the real problem with me, too. I don't run around trembling in fear...I move a fraction slower, but don't have to repeat things 3 times in a row. So I'm more pleasant for customers to deal with and don't really take any longer than they do. They frequently tip when I've taken them all the way through the line to the register (but the tips don't often get shared with me).

In the meantime, the kids got several friends of theirs hired starting this week, so I'm no longer needed. It's the total lack of notice that really bothers me. Here I was praying I'd hear on the other job today so I could give a week's notice. Just freakin' common decency and 1 more week's paycheck would have gone a long way.

Donna's excuse for "letting me go" was concern that I might get hurt. I haven't gotten hurt, or tripped, or slipped, or dropped food on anyone, or messed up with the ovens or knives. I haven't caused anyone else to get hurt. The last couple days have been tough; it's suddenly hot, humid and after all the rain a very bad allergy season. And their a/c is broken too boot. But I've kept up my end.

She actually jumped on the fact that she heard me sniffling while I was washing dishes. I explained it was just allergies. She knows that's all it is -- she was having problems herself the other day. She was totally grasping at straws. When we discussed what my last day would be, it took me about one second to connect the fact that it was Sunday and their week runs Sunday to Sunday. She jumped on that... as if I was senile or something because I didn't automatically know their week runs Sunday to Sunday. Like I have nothing better to think about... :wtf:

She said she was only going to be able to last herself another 10 years or so at this. I asked her what she planned to do in 10 years, and she looked scared. It suddenly dawned on her that in 10 years, she'll be me...but worse because uneducated, obese and in far worse physical shape. The fact is I'm in better health and stronger than most of today's 20 and 30 year olds. At her age, mid-40s, she couldn't have held a candle to me for strength and fitness.

I've made beginner mistakes, but nothing major. I've been 5-10 minutes early every day and plunged right into work if they were busy. Once I arrived and realized I'd left my visor at home, so instead of 10 minutes early was 5 minutes late. Overall, they've gotten at least a hour of free labor. Twice in 3 weeks I accidentally heated about 20 cents worth of the wrong chicken. Once, my 1st week, I accidentally re-cut a 6" sub roll, forgetting it had already been cut. A couple times I've put food in the wrong containers and had to move them and re-wash the containers. Ross, on the other hand, was 45 minutes late last week -- got spoken too, that was it. In his hurry the other day he dropped about a pound of provolone on the floor. Not an issue. The asst manager failed to prepare enough bread the other day, leaving us running out of everything the entire afternoon. NBD.

The young woman that I *suspect* was the main one sabotaging me has twice left the oven on overnight. Could have burned the place down -- she got warnings each time but is still there. The few times I got sandwiches there a couple years ago, one woman screwed up every order I ever asked for, until I stopped ever buying lunch there because even when it was empty she was slow. But she was there for over a year.

In the meantime, I "heard" a conversation yesterday afternoon. I couldn't hear one end clearly, only Donna's. She was saying, "I wish you'd told me this sooner. I've already let her go...I can't call her back now." So I'm hoping at least there's some regret there over how I've been treated. :shrug:

I am so disgusted at how shallow so many people are. No wonder this country is in such a mess! Are these folks sentient?

Total ignorance freaks me out. I am sorry you were so poorly treated by ignorant people. "Afraid you would get hurt", that's a laugh!