Weekly Confessions

This week you bared your soul. You shared the gruesome details, you admitted to crimes against society, you laughed an evil laugh, and I loved every second of it.

Secret Confession #1- One time I had to deliver a fruit tray to the main office of the county department of health. The delivery was scheduled for very early in the morning, and was located a good 30 minutes away from my house. Since my work was another 30 miles away in the opposite direction, I decided to bring the fruit tray home with me to save an hour at the crack of dawn. That morning as I sleepily loaded the fruit tray into my car, I accidentally dropped it all over the pavement... There was no time to get the ingredients, much less prepare them, so I did the only thing I could think of: I picked up all of the fruit, rinsed it off, and reassembled the platter. Yup, I served pavement fruit to the health department.

Brilliant. The shear irony of the situation would have been to much to handle. Now, lets hear from the passive aggressive antics of a pizza maker, and a cocktail waitress...

Secret Confession #2- I used to work at a place that served take-away pizza. Whenever someone was especially rude, I would slice their pizza just hard enough so it looked like it had been sliced, but not hard enough to cut through the crust. Devastating? Probably not. But the thought of those jerks making a mess of themselves trying to eat a slice on the way home always made me smile.

Secret Confessions #3-When I was a cocktail waitress at a casino, I used to do something called "arm pit straws". Whenever a person was particularly nasty and called me a bitch, I would put their straw under my arm pit while I was delivering other drinks. I would then put the straw in their drink (arm pit side up) and deliver it with a smile.

Ahh, and just the thought of you silently sabotaging those asswads makes me smile too. Thank you all for your confessions this week. Keep them coming, as I am thoroughly enjoying reading through them. It sure is nice to know you are all just as screwed up and vindictive as I am.

The Sweaty Silverware

Last night was my first day back from my bullshit suspension. Though I walked in feeling completely awkward and uncomfortable, both mangers did a good job pretending nothing happened, while whispers of "I thought she was fired," and "I hear she's been stealing for months" were overheard from fellow employees throughout the night.
It was a remarkably uneventful shift, spent avoiding confrontation of any sort. It was ridiculously slow, and we were asked to start small cleaning projects. I opted to roll hundreds and hundreds of silverware, as it beats the hell out of scrubbing crusted cheese, and layers of spilled sauce under the salad bar.

I think it may be the law anyway, but my steakhouse is what you might consider an equal opportunity employer. This usually means non-biased hiring towards sex, race, or religion. However we have often hired mentally handicapped people as well. Now, please don't leave nasty comments because I will have none of it. My Aunt had down syndrome, and I have a soft spot in my heart for the mentally challenged. I do not, however, think that they belong working in a stressful position like those offered at a restaurant. Our newest hired busser is handicapped. He is very friendly, and does what he is told, problem is it takes him 5 times as long to get it done, and he forgets important parts of each task, which usually takes someone else to clean up, or sort out.

Last night, I thought I would teach him to roll silverware, and smiled as his eyes filled with joy at learning the new skill. We spent about ten minutes together rolling silverware, when he was asked to empty all the trash cans. He returned from the job to continue with silverware, and was completely drenched with sweat. I assumed he had washed his hands, so we continued rolling. We made small talk until I caught him wiping drips of sweat from his forehead with his bare hands. At first I was unsure of what to tell him, so I just watched as he scratched his nose, rubbed his sweaty neck, and returned his hands to silverware rolling. I gagged a bit, and then I reminded him that anytime he touched his face he needed to wash his hands. He nodded agreeably, and took off to do so.

While he was gone, Manager C (the one to suspend me) walked by with her manager meal, said she would be in the office eating dinner if anyone needed her, and reached forward to grab the nearest silverware.

Of course she grabbed the one Busser had just snotted, and sweat all over. And of course I didn't tell her. I just snickered to myself, and told her to enjoy her meal.

Happy Holidays, You Bastard

Friday morning I woke up early. Filled with anticipation I began pulling out sleeping bags, chairs, and ice chests from storage. I suddenly started to feel a bit queasy so returned to bed for a few more hours of shut eye. I woke some time later with a raging migraine, stumbling to the bathroom I was met by an unexpected visitor.
That bitch Aunt Flow couldn't have waited until after the weekend to ruin my life for the next 5 days? I marked tampons on my list of things to pick up at the store, and went about my business after taking upwards of 1,000 mg of Tylenol.
We arrived at our camp site after sweating it out for nearly 3 hours in the truck. It was a beautiful, cloudless sky, with temperatures somewhere in the 90's. We began unloading the truck when out of nowhere a flash flood tore through the campground destroying everything in its path.We took shelter in the truck for about an hour while our bags, blankets, and tents were demolished.
Within minutes the sky was blue and the sun returned. Determined to have a good time we did our best to salvage the firewood and shook the tent dry.
The rest of the evening was enjoyable, as we barbecued, drank, and enjoyed family we rarely see.

I awoke Saturday with a stiff neck and a sore throat, not to mention cramps and a blinding headache from my period. I hadn't slept well, but then again I never sleep well while camping so I got up, had a cup of coffee, and begin feeling better.
Husband and I went on a beautiful hike, and took the kayaks out on the lake. The sun's rays stung my white legs, but it felt so good.
Back at camp my father-in-law was preparing lunch, and I decided to lay down for a nap. Waking I felt worse then I did before laying down. My entire body was achy, I had a fever, my throat was raw, and I was shivering excessively even though it was hot as hell.
I had the flu. First the period, then the flood, and now the damn flu.
Husband suggested we just go home, but I didn't want to ruin the weekend for him to so I said I would try and ride it out. We didn't drive all that way to miss the fireworks either.
I spent the rest of the day puking, shivering, and trying not to move since my entire body felt bruised.

At 10pm the fireworks finally began, yet I was bundled up in my sleeping bag, with ear plugs jammed into my ears, praying for silence so the migraine might subside. After the fireworks, husband returned to find me passed out with puke in my hair, and along the side of my sleeping bag. He picked me up, put me in the car, packed up all our shit, and drove me home.

So, all together it was a pretty unsuccessful holiday weekend. One of the worst in fact. But upon reminiscing I have to laugh a bit. It was certainly unforgettable and after the hell I raised at the restaurant, quite ironic.

How was everyone else's holiday weekend? Got a story to top mine?

And Totally Redeem Yourself.

A week ago I posted about the 4th of July. Many of you commented, and shared your advice as to what I should do. Most of you said I should demand the day off (or call in sick), some of you suggested that I should quit, or threaten to quit, and one anonymous blogger said I should work it "cheerfully." (Yeah Right!!)

My spineless managers are one of my favorite topics on this blog, as they provide me with endless material. However yesterday afternoon they did something so fantastic, that I may, for a week or so, have to refrain from any manager bashing to show my regards, and gratitude for a totally selfless act.

I was buzzing around the restaurant early Saturday afternoon, mentally detached from reality in order to prepare myself for the long day ahead of me. I happen to notice that all the managers were in the office chattering about something of importance. I figured it was just business, so I ignored it as usual, when the kitchen manager burst through the doors, made direct eye contact with me and said with a smile, "You owe us big time."
I was intrigued so I decided to investigate the situation. I made my way over to the office, and poked my head in, when I saw two other managers making a sign for the front door that read "Closing early for the 4th of July. Hours 12-3."
I scrunched my face with excitement. This meant that even if I was scheduled, I would be off early enough to make it up to our camp site without missing the fireworks.

GH: "Closing early, eh?"
SM: "Ya, you lucky bastards totally owe us!"
GH: "So who is scheduled then?"
SM: "None of you. The managers are gonna work it so you don't have to"

I squealed enthusiastically, almost in disbelief.
How gloriously sacrificial. I hugged both spineless managers, and thanked them obsessively for the next 7 hours.
So, after all the stupid and spineless shit they do on a regular basis, they go and do something like this...and totally redeem themselves.

Oh, and as it turns out, I also got Friday and Sunday off. Hello three day weekend, goodbye work, sanity, and soberness.

And Tonight's Special Is

Last weekend we featured the Brazilian BBQ Buffet that I mentioned briefly here. It did so well that we decided to serve it again this weekend to celebrate Fathers Day.
When I arrived at work I saw a message taped to the kitchen wall.

"Sell 10 Buffets win 2 tickets to the Movies"

So I clocked on, and immediately got a 4 top. Before I had time to get their drink orders, let alone try and push the special, they had already ordered 4 Buffets.
Maybe this was going to be easier then I thought.

I went to the back and was making 4 tally's on the board when I was approached by Dolly, who is known to be a very competitive up-seller (mentioned here).

Dolly: "4 already huh? Did you sell it to them??!!"

GH: "Well, they already knew what they wanted"

Dolly: "It doesn't count then, you have to actually GET them to buy it"
*Moves forward and erases my tally's

GH: "Excuse me. But the Steakhouse doesn't give a shit HOW we sell 10, they just want us to sell 10."
*Re-Tally's 4 buffets

Dolly: "Whatever... I know I could never feel good about winning if I didn't actually get 10 sells."

GH: "That's to bad. I'll think of you while I'm enjoying my free movie."


I sold 14. How's that for irony you crazy psycho.

Irony Much?!

After a long and dramatic process, and despite Ida's best attempts, on Wednesday husband and I drove home in our new car.

Its really interesting how things work out.
We had enough saved to pay half cash, and thought we would use the loan to pay the rest. But the loan we expected to get from Ida was at a 17.9% APR. YUCK! Well, it turned out to be a good thing that we weren't approved because that gave us the opportunity to use another method. We decided to put the rest on a credit card because it had a lower APR (not much lower though).
We were literally on our way out to make the purchase when I grabbed the mail. I saw a letter from my credit card carrier and I tore it open.
Inside was a letter that read,

"Congratulation, based on your responsible credit card usage we are lowering your APR from 15.9% to 6.9% until 2010."

Woahh! Perfect timing? I think so.