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Three New
Uniforms and a Walkie-Talkie... Priceless.
I feel
more than whiney today. I'm walking the fence between bitter and
disgruntled. It's one of my few days off and I don't want to write about
"that place". Usually I love it there, but lately it's been obvious that
myself and my co-workers have been taken advantage of, and as part of my
Norma Rae-esque attitude, I want to just ban it from my column and in its
place hold up a cardboard sign screaming "Union Now!!" Even the title of
the column "…but the Tips are Good" is just a kick in the neck. In total I
made about $85 all week there. I'd liken to change the title to
"Waitressing; the Moral Woman's Guide to Prostitution". After a completely
white knuckled Thursday this week I had even rang DarkFather from the
parking lot and asked him if I could change the title to "My Hours in a
Franchise Soup Kitchen" for it seems it's been all volunteer work as of
late. Thank God he answered his phone and calmed me down or I would have
made the news as the first waitress to go postal. There would have been no
greater joy than to walk back inside and just start heaving carafes of
barbeque sauce at everything that moved. It would have resembled a blood
bath, but in a strictly pacifist manner.
I
mean, explain to me how a person can arrive as scheduled at 9:45am and work
til the doors open at 11am for $2.13 per hour? There is no chance of tips
til 11am rolls about, so why am I practically volunteering my time filling
dressings, rotating stock, labeling and dating shit and dicing three or four
pans of eggs? (I feel a rant coming on… be warned!) Also, add the fact that
I was given three brand new, fresh off the interview people to train
simultaneously. I had to explain things as I did them, the three of them
tagging about as if I was their mother hen, and at the same time I had the
manager on duty breathing down my neck to hastily get it all done so we
could start the day. Sure, I can walk and chew gum at the same time, but to
do it with someone saying, "How many shifts should that be labeled?" and
"Ladies, we have five minutes… hustle!" takes the spring out my step. I
felt cheap, stupid, and taken advantage of… as if my ass should hurt after
it was all done.
That
was graphic. I'm not apologising, just giving you the opportunity to read
it again.
Since
Thursday I have seriously been questioning my employment. Recently I had a
diner who frequents the place offer me a position as his Social Worker for
the nursing home he owns. Having my own office again sounds good, having a
fat paycheck again sounds good, having the respect from people that I have a
"real job" again sounds wonderful. It's obvious that most people, even my
General Manager's boss (envision Napoleon in "Bill & Ted's Excellent
Adventure"), thinks waitresses are stupid. Guests who are dining seem to
explain the obvious, and the "head honcho" seems to think that instead of
paying us more and just giving us three clean new uniforms, we retards will
just giggle and wag our tails. I don't know if there is such a thing as "dumbening",
but this job is turning my brain matter into powdered milk. Why take my car
to work when I can hop on the small bus? Instead of three new uniforms we
should get a helmet, a drool cup and safety scissors to run with.
Yet,
being taken advantage of is the reason I left social work to begin with. I
was salaried and carried a pager 24/7. Since they wouldn't pay the hourly
workers overtime, I was paged at all hours of the night to do their job. I
was working a good 60 hours a week and seeing the same flat amount on my
paycheck. Why is it that bosses feel a qualified individual would rather
spend their time volunteering than making a dollar? Do they not understand
that bills and debts mount on my table just like it does on theirs? Do they
not know that children and shoes and soccer camps cost money? What job is
out there that I can do and do well and be rewarded for? In all my employed
history, I have yet to find one. Perhaps drug dealing? Since I don't use
drugs I'd reap all that I sowed.
I
don't think it's selfish of a person to want to be rewarded for something
they do well although it's instilled on us by a polite society to never ask
for something. Parents reward children for cleaning their room, so why,
after a year of cleaning and prepping that damn restaurant haven't I seen an
increase in my allowance? They are so quick to condemn and yammer on and on
with complaints we get from customers, but when a good call comes in, or
someone praises us to the manager on duty, nothing. I'm not expecting to be
the highest paid waitress in America, or else I'd dress like a slutty Juliet
and work the Venetian in Vegas. I heard those big-haired lasses bragging on
the Travel Channel that they make over $2000 a night and don't even have to
sleep with anyone. Lately, I'd be happy to make $20 a night with my
knickers on.
One of
the greatest slaps in the face is this "money" system they have, but rarely
use. The franchise has its own "Monopoly" money that they pass out in
currencies of $2 and $5 for doing a good job. These dollars can be saved up
and exchanged for items in a catalog such as camping stoves and
walkie-talkies. The catch is, they never pass them out when they say they
will. I don't know how many contests I've won and have never seen this
restaurants' answer to the confederate dollar. They also expire within a
year, so if you do happen to stay there long enough, you probably won't get
jack or shit anyway. The funny thing is, you can't use them for food. They
give you a fifty percent discount on food, but only if you eat it there and
if you've just finished a shift… no take out and this fake money can't be
used towards that purchase. This only re-enforces my theory that even they
don't think their ideas are worth the paper they're printed on. Plus, I
really need a walkie-talkie. Really. Not a day goes by where I would
rather have a walkie-talkie than, oh, electricity, food or heat.
Seeing
that half of the staff reads my article I should probably end this now
before I start a new growly diatribe regarding a recent firing that really
chapped my ass. Besides, I need something to write about next week, should
I still be employed. Then again, can you really fire a volunteer? I'm
still looking into claiming this past year as a write off for my taxes. You
know, making this franchise my charity of choice. |
