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So, I’m A Waitress Again

I hated the call center, and I quit. So, I tried a local convenience store, hated it, so I cut down to one day a week there, and went back to the old restaurant and asked for my job back. Luckily, they said yes. So, I’m a waitress again.

Today was a shitty day for tips (do people NOT realize what 20% is?), but overall it wasn’t too bad. I wish I had the energy/time to write more at the moment, but I just got home from work a bit ago and I still need a shower. I also want to spend some time with my boyfriend. We’re going out for dinner tonight, so I definitely need to get that shower. (The funk of sweat and barbecue sauce is radiating from me as we speak.)

I missed being a waitress though, and even if my boss has no idea what the fuck he’s doing running a restaurant, it definitely makes it worth it when a table you haven’t waited on since before you quit comes in and they both beam because they’re so happy to see that you’re back. :)

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To anyone who actually reads this….

Well, hi again.

First this blog was a waitress blog – then I quit that job and went into a call center customer service position. I wanted to blog about that, but because that job took up so much of my time, I never had time to write even one single post about being a customer service rep (although now that I no longer do that, I could write some pretty interesting posts about it). Now I work at a convenience/fast food/not quite sure exactly how you’d classify it store, and to be honest, there aren’t many interesting stories about that job. I have left the blog dormant for some time now due to a lack of time and inspiration to write anything for it.

I always liked this blog, though, because it offered me good anonymity. Every other website/blog/whatever that I’ve ever had could somehow be linked to who I am out here in the real world. I guess if someone had enough brains they could still do it with this one, but I don’t actively reveal my name or any personally indentifying information here. I also like to think that the username is pretty creative, if I do say so myself, so I don’t want to just quit using it. I want to put it to good use somehow. Then, I had the idea – a personal blog along with little comics and doodles illustrating the little things that make everyday life not so mundane. However, I’ve gotta brush up on my art kills a bit (and find the patience to draw out a whole comic strip) before I can do the comic thing. Even once my skills are brushed up a bit, I will forewarn you that the drawings might be primitive at best, but that could work in my favor as it has for other web comics. For now, I guess it will just be me rambling with no masterpiece art to showcase my life. So here I go, delving into a world that I haven’t put out on the Internet in a long time – my personal life, the ups, the downs, and the sarcastic and cynical (and sometimes dark) humor that I get out of it.

I Can’t Sleep, And This Blog Will Be Different From Now On….

  I’m no longer a waitress. I quit waitressing back at the beginning of August and started working as a customer service representative. Truth be told, I think I enjoyed waitressing more, but the CSR job pays much better. So now, I’ll bitch and rant about all the things that come with being a customer service rep.

  So, my first bitch with the new topic of the blog? My IDs for the systems at work went down Tuesday morning, and they sent me home. Wednesday, after calling to check if my IDs were working – they told me they were – and guess what? I got sent home, because they weren’t working after all, I called Thursday morning and they said they still weren’t working, so no work. Most people would be happy with no work – hell, I was kinda psyched that first day – but then I realized that my paycheck for this period of time will be a very shitty one. At least I got a little relaxation in. They called later Thursday and said the IDs were working again, but I had no ride (the people I usually ride with were already at work by that time), so I couldn’t go in again today.

  I noticed one thing since starting this CSR job – although my personal life is at an all-time high (thriving on my own, I have a boyfriend now whom I love very much, etc.), outside of that, my stress levels are also at an all-time high. So now what am I going to do? Well, I thought about finding another job. I’d hate to switch jobs again, but it would be nice to have a job closer to home that I can walk to until I can get a car. But hell, part of the reason I wanted this job was so I’d be able to afford a car. Don’t get me wrong, I’m actually not bad at the job. I get good crift* scores and my sales are decent. (We have to offer products after we resolve the issue.) It is a very stressful environment though. In writing it doesn’t sound so bad until you actually get on the phones, then you realize just how stressful it is. I think the thought of going back to work tomorrow after two and a half days off is part of the reason I can’t sleep tonight. Oh, and the fact that my ride might be calling off tomorrow, leaving me scrambling to try and find another ride in the morning, as it’s way too late to try and get ahold of anyone else tonight.

  Maybe it was stupid of me to get a job twenty miles from home when I don’t even have a car. Maybe it was stupid of me to get a job where there would be such high stress levels when I don’t deal with stress very well at all. Maybe it was stupid of me to get a job where I’d have absolutely no free time. To top it all off, here I sit, at midnight, needing to be awake again in the morning at 6:00, my boyfriend sound asleep in my bed. He works at the same place and we both hate it. I want to try and stick it out as long as I possibly can because the money is great for my area, but I don’t know how much longer I can take working in such a stressful environment where you’re nothing but a little robot.

  Of course, I’ll never say what company I take calls for. All I’ll say is that it’s a fucking huge, global company that doesn’t give two shits about its customers, much less employees. I thought maybe the days off would give me a recharge, but I’m dreading going back in tomorrow, even though it’s Friday (and payday) and I’ll have two more days off immediately thereafter, plus Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and the weekend immediately following those days off.

  I don’t even think the stress comes all from the job though. A lot of the stress comes from having to get rides from other people, and on nights like tonight, having to worry if I’ll be able to make it to work the next day because my ride might call off.

  OK, that was my rant. Hopefully from now on I’ll be more regular in posting here. Maybe me getting a job like this really is my karma burning.

 

*Crift – You know the survey you sometimes get after you call a customer service line that asks if you were happy with the service that the representative provided you? That’s what crift is, and our crift scores are based on how the customers rate us when they call.

So Much “Potential” – Fucking Wasted

I can’t help but think, every time I go in for work, that this is what I’ve dedicated my so-called “potential” to.

See, in school, before things really got a grip on me and I dropped out (luckily later I got my GED), I was smart. Smart probably isn’t even the word to describe it – intelligent would work. I was seventeen with the mind of a fifty-year-old. To this day, I like to think that I’m an old soul. Get me into a deep conversation and I’ll say things that will blow your mind. Hell, put a few beers in my hand and I’ll get philosophical on you. I was in honors Spanish my last year of high school and passed it. I got the jokes that our science teacher would make when no one else in the class did. I was also musically talented and did well in band class. I also had a decent singing voice in choir. I also aced every test in English and American history and got into at least the top ten in Young Writers more times than I can even remember.

I have an IQ of 127. While that’s not genius, it’s definitely not average either. On the IQ scale, 127 ranks as “superior intelligence.” It won’t get me into Mensa but it’s not something I’m ashamed of, either. On my GED exam, I passed English (both part one, grammar, and part two, writing) with a PERFECT SCORE. I never did well with math but rocked just about every other subject. I was (and still am) especially atuned to English and grammar. In fact, so much so, that one of my friends calls me a “grammar nut.” I don’t know what it is, but improper grammar, spelling, and proununciation bug the hell out of me.

What did I do with it? I became a fucking waitress.

I’m not down-talking my job. I take pride in it, if for nothing else, for the simple fact that I have a job, which is more than I can say for a lot of people I know. Sure, it may not be the most glamorous job in the world but it pays my bills and keeps my head above water. It also tests my ability to deal with the public, as I’m not a people person and most likely never will be a people person. And sometimes, just sometimes, I actually make decent money doing it.

One of my co-workers tells me that I need to go to college. She says, “You’re smart. You could learn something. You don’t want to be stuck doing this for the rest of your life.” She’s been doing it longer than I’ve been alive. Sadly though, that’s what I see when I don that uniform – a lifer. I see someone who is condemned to relying on the kindness of the public for the rest of her life, someone who slaps on a big, plastic smile and pretends that she’s very happy doing what she’s doing, all the while knowing deep down inside that it embitters her more and more every single day.

So why do I do this? Well first, the place I currently work was the first place to call me back after I’d been applying all over town. It also seemed like something I could pick up fairly quickly (which I did). It’s also because I made a few crappy choices in my life and I now have the price to pay for them.

Do I want to better myself? You could bet your last dollar on that. I don’t want to be a waitress – at least by career – for the rest of my life. I want to do something better with myself. Maybe I’ll get better at guitar and actually do something with my musical talent and my voice. Maybe I’ll become a writer or a journalist. I don’t want to do this forever though. This is my stepping stone, or at least, I like to think it is. It’s a job, and it pays the bills, but I don’t want to look back in twenty years, still waiting tables, and think about the mind, the talent, and the “potential” that I fucking wasted.

If You Complain About Your Food, Please Prove The Problem To Me, Fuckwads

I had a table tonight that seemed nice enough when they first came in. It was a woman, her brother, their mother, and (I assume) the woman’s young daughter. Like I said, they were nice enough. They ordered their drinks and the woman ordered a salad. I took their drinks to them, put their order in, made the salad, and ran it to them. They were polite and thanked me. They even made an April Fools joke, so I thought, “They might be pretty nice.” I had no idea what was coming next.

When their food came up, I ran it to them. Now usually, if there’s a problem with the food, the table will flag you down right away. No, she waited until I had run their meals to them to complain about the salad.

“There was a hair in my salad.”

I looked at the salad. I saw no hair whatsoever, so I asked point-blank, “Where is it?”

“Oh, I just plucked it out and threw it on the floor.”

I knew she was fucking lying. If I found a suspicious object in my food, I’d leave it there so I could prove to the server that it was in fact there. In an attempt to figure out whose it could have been (but deep down knowing that it most likely wasn’t there in the first place), I asked, “What color was it?” Mind you, I was smiling and being very polite. I was just trying to get the bottom of this. She pointed toward my head and said, “Dark brown.”

Faux pas number one. My hair isn’t dark brown. It’s LIGHT brown, and you can definitely tell a difference. I apologized and told her I wouldn’t charge her for the salad.

A couple of minutes later, I go back to check on them and they say everything’s very good. I apologize once again for the supposed hair in the salad and they say it’s OK, things happen.

I go back a while later to check on them again. Mind you, the older woman had already taken a couple of bites of her meal when I checked the first time. All of the sudden, on this second check,  the chicken was undercooked. No, it actually wasn’t. She had ordered dark meat, and dark meat will not be completely white because it’s NOT WHITE MEAT. Nevertheless, I apologized and I offered to take it back. She said, “NO, I’m DONE.” I then said, “Well, may I at least take it back so I can show it to the manager?” Once again, I was being as polite and as friendly as I could be. She sort of scoffed and said, “Well, OK.” I took it back and the manager, A, said to call the owners because he’d hate to have me do something (like giving an unauthorized discount or comp the meal) that could get us in trouble. I called them and explained things and they told me to go ahead and comp it, so I did. I told them that and they thanked me. I apologized once again for the chicken. At this point, she mentioned that the mashed potatoes were cold – something she didn’t mention for the whole two minutes I stood at the table discussing the chicken with her.

They were just about finished and had some leftovers boxed up, so I took them their bill. Even with the comped chicken and salad, it was still about $45.00. My tip? $4.00.

My thought is that they were just another one of those tables who order a lot of food and at some point during the meal, realize it’s going to cost them more than they can really afford, so they make up some stupid complaints to get things for free. Granted, the lady didn’t eat much of the chicken meal, but still, it’s DARK meat, it will NOT be WHITE even when fully COOKED. Go to KFC and see if you get any different – you won’t. And the four dollar tip, even after I was polite and apologetic about everything was just a slap in the face. I took good care of them and I guess they fail to realize that a problem with the food is not necessarily the server’s fault.

Ah well. That’s not the worst table I’ve ever had, and I guess I should be grateful that I even got a tip at all.

Socially Awkward Penguin Is Now A Socially Awkward Waitress

Yes, that’s right – I am a waitress, but I’m very socially awkward. I’ve always been a keep-to-myself type of person, so being a waitress seems like an ironic job for me. If you’ve ever seen the Internet meme “Socially Awkward Penguin” – well, I can relate to just about every picture. I got bored and made a few memes last night. This was one of those memes, because you have no idea how many times this has happened to me.

Socially Awkward Penguin At Closing Time

This has been me many times at work.

Sniffling, Coughing, Sneezing, Drinking

I got home from work about an hour ago and decided to crack a beer instead of having that tea I mentioned earlier. I got suckered into working tomorrow even though I’m sick and really wanted (and probably needed) the day off. OK, I didn’t really get suckered into it – the one who asked me to work part of her shift for her had something else to do and I could use the money anyway, despite the fact that my head feels like a water balloon and I had to refrain from sneezing snot all over each and every table tonight. A few tables gave me a weird look – you know, that look that says, “Why is this sick bitch handling my food?” I did them a courtesy though and didn’t sneeze in front of them, and I also tried not to cough. I tried to make my voice sound as normal as possible. I also washed my hands until they were almost raw and probably went through a gallon of hand-sanitizer in just one shift. It went OK though – I got some decent tips tonight (my tip percentage based on my sales was roughly around 20%). Then again, a lot of them were probably pity tips. Maybe it’ll work again tomorrow. That is, if I don’t get sent home early for being sick. I’ve seen it happen plenty of times, and besides, I have to work with Boss Man and Boss Lady tomorrow all day as opposed to A, and Boss Man is the one who usually sends the sick people home. I’ve only left early once for being sick, and that’s only because I was puking and absolutely could not make it through the whole day.

That’s all for now. Nothing too interesting tonight, really. Same shit, different day. (As if it’s ever really much different.)