Work has, well, sucked. I had orientation prior to starting, which was essentially the training manager walking the servers and food runners through everything they needed to know, and telling me none of it applied to me. Awesome. I won't get those two hours back.
So, I am walking in my first day with a lump in my throat and my stomach gurgling. Nervous doesn't quite describe it, I had absolutely no idea what to expect. I don't do well in those situations. I would love, love, love life to come with an itinerary and list of possible outcomes to each event. Sadly, it does not work this way, so in situations like this, I suck it up and tell my brain to shut the fuck up and deal.
So, I walk in my first day and find my boss, who shows me how to clock in, sort of, and then sends me in the kitchen. No discussion on policies, procedures, breaks, hours, schedule, employee bathroom, or even a hello. Nothing. Just, this is Eric, he will train you. Oh, and make these desserts, you are on this station by yourself. Which was fine, the desserts were nothing I couldn't handle, it was just startling that I was just thrown into it all.
So, Eric hands me a book of recipes and tells me to start reading. I will be tested on this, so, read. OK. There are about 10 recipes, I read through them, and expect the training to start. Nope, just read through the recipes while the person who is supposed to be training you tells you to stay out of their way. Then, halfway through the night, my boss tells me to go wash dishes. For four hours. Now, I am not above being a dishwasher nor do I discount their role in the kitchen. However, I am not paying $32k for an education to wash dishes. I was pissed. Plus, lifting tray after tray of glasses took it's toll on my back. I had no idea when I was leaving or when I was coming in next. About 10:45 pm I finally find the schedule and see that I am scheduled to leave at 11:00 pm. Except I have no idea who the supervisor is or who I need to talk to. Once I figure all of this out, I just asked to leave. He tells me that I am not a cook now, I am a dishwasher and he will tell me when I can leave. I got home about 12:30 pm.
So, day one sucked, but whatever. It was a fluke, it was Friday, they were busy, no big deal, I've got this. I can figure this out.
Day two was a million bazillion trillion times worse. I sat in my car after my shift ended and cried. Basically, half way through my shift, the person training me left and my boss said "hope you know this station, you're on your own." And the person who was supposed to be helping me spent the entire night lecturing me on why it is wrong to be gay. Even though I told him, repeatedly, that this conversation was offending me. Then he proceeded to pop in some chew and bail on me when it was time to close. I got yelled at all night for things I just didn't know. I honestly would have given anything for someone to tell me I didn't have to go back. Anything. I cried most of the day because I didn't want to go back on Sunday. I just couldn't see facing it all again, being screamed at and told I am holding up the whole kitchen. Having my coworkers say things in Spanish they didn't think I understood, but I totally did. I know the word bitch, I know the word stupid and slow and I sure as fuck can see the obscene gestures you are making at your station and laughing.
I knew all of this would happen, I did. I just wasn't prepared for how overwhelmed and frustrated I would get. I expected a little more support as I learned it, a little more training.
I went in last night and had the station to myself. I closed by myself. When I went to walk out, my supervisor, Lopez, told me I did a great job. I looked him right in the eye and said, "Fuck yeah I did" and left. Do I like working there? No. It is dirty (although their food safety is pretty impeccable, it is more the floors and walls and stuff.) Their policies are asinine and their management and quality control is all over the place, depending on who from management is there. It is by no stretch of the imagination my dream job. But? I feel okay about going there. I don't want to cry or walk out. I feel like I can do this.
But, Sunday? I was ready to walk away from this entire career and deem myself a failure. And that isn't like me. So, naturally, I am now determined to make this place my bitch.
My goal for tonight: find the employee bathroom.
1 comment:
Make it your bitch, lady. And kick it in its face while you're at it.
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