Co-workers suck large

2006-08-24T19:50:00.000-07:00

Thursday
punch in: 5:11
punch out: 9:06
total hours this week: 9.62

...joy. I get into work a little bit late because an arrogant bus driver decides to test my patience by noticing me race across the street just before the light turns red only to drive away without picking me up. Not only that, he gives me "the stare" and "the discouraging headshake" so after a calm wave goodbye with one finger, I get on the next bus and get to work. I start to get a feeling it's gunna be one of those shifts. I get in to find that my co-worker has called in sick, so in a stroke of sheer brilliance, they call in a cashier to cover him. Nice. At least Shaun is in so the evening isn't a total waste. Shaun's cool. He is direct, to the point, bluntly honest about everything, and horny as hell and willing to share it. It's rather amusing to see him interact with customers. He'll often start by butting into a conversation by saying quite loudly "It doesn't matter how long you work or where you work in here, it's all shit. Don't fuckin' forget that." while an elderly customer is walking by. that's a great ice-breaker. He then normally turns to the offended person/people and says " hey, how the fuck are ya?" or a simple "how ya doin'?"

enough about the help, let's move on to the main rant, the customers. Luckily, I didn't have any more orders for seven fries, but I did have a request to replace the salad in thier combo with 4 chicken fingers.... What? whats the matter? coleslaw not good enough for ya? upset 'cuz you can't deep fry that (Actually, you can. It's the unlabeled 6 preset time button on the frier. Brilliant). Later that evening, I had a customer come up and say " I want a combination." "...um? I'm sorry? a what?" "a combination" ... right. anyone know what the hell they are talking about? I sure as hell don't. So I casually reply " 3, 52, 39". So there. Now I really messed with her head. She finally asks " look, can I get the 20 wing deal or not?" oh, apparently a combination is a specific combo on our menu. damn, I must've missed the memo on that one.

I finally get to go on break. joy. I get a few chicken fingers and a ghreek pasta thingy and head up. Whilst in the breakroom/female locker room/ entrance to female washroom/ paint storage room, I get to enjoyu the company of Helen, another cashier. She reminds me of my mother at times, even though she's my age. It's probably because she insists on calling me 'booger' unless I'm sharpening the knives in the deli. yeah, 'cuz nothing says friend material like a guy standing in a deli sharpening a scimitar.

Moving on, here's a question, why the hell do people feel it necessary to honour me with thier presence five minutes before we close. We have lives, we want to be outta here by 9 too, piss off. People don't seem to understand that we have to re-clean the slicer and counter and re-wrap the meats you ask for. In short, if we close in 15 minutes or less, skip the deli.

much appreciation n' stuff. next shift is Wednesday.
I'll have a new punch card, so my hours worked will reset.

Welcome

2006-08-20T20:04:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my blog, Nitrates. This blog is all about my many escipades as a deli clerk in your local grocery store. You may know me as Spawn of Satan, or one of many other aliases. For mercy's sake I will not reveal the name of my work. When it comes to myself and the other employes, though, they're screwed. all names are actual and for security's sake, no last names will be given.

Sunday
punch in: 1:58
punch out: 8:03
total hours this week : 6.03

I got into work a little earlier than expected today, so I decide to take a nap before punching in. I go in with my usual greetings to find out that I will be closing up with Mike. crap. Imagine a younger, teenage, socially awkward version of Jerry Sienfeld, without the good jokes. I go and tell Jen, another co-worker in the dept., that I'll be up in the staff room nappping until 2 and to come up and wake me when she leaves. Of course, I expect a nice subtle awakening. Instead I get a nice loudspeaker paging me to the deli counter. I'm awake. I go downstairs in full uniform and punch in.

Now the fun starts. I get to deal with the first wave, the left-overs from the lunch time rush. Today wasn't bad, except for the odd demand for an exact number of french fries. Who the hell wants to eat exactly 7 french fries? I don't care, it's still 1.59 for a box, seven or not. That's not the really annoying part of my day, though. That comes when the cold side rush comes in. Apparently everyone wants deli meats, they all want different ones, and they all want a month's supply. I've had three people come up to me so far and say " how much is this? no, no, not by 100g, for the whole thing. How many kilos? 5? I'll take two. No not two hundred grams, two whole ones." This isn't necesarily a bad thing, I mean it could be worse. They could have wanted all of it shaved.

Speaking of shaved, an elderly man walks in about 5 o' clock, and asks for some cooked chicken. Enough to last him a couple of days. This shouldn't be too bad. except for the fact that it's all he eats. He gets 2 pounds, shaved! Bastard is really starting to get on my nerves now. But wait, as soon as he gets that, he figures he should even it out with another pound of german salami. He asks for it to be thin enough to see light through it. Now this bastard is really pissing me off.

As I'm working, a nice little line starts forming to his right. Apparently somebody decided it would be a good idea to pt blackforest ham on sale for $0.66/100g. I have everybody here. That's not hte issue here, because if they all want the same thing, It's normally pretty quick. Here's the issue, I apreciate that they are trying to learn English, I understand that they haven't quite grasped the concept yet, but if all you can say is "brefo 100", get the fuck away from me before I test my scimitar. Sereously, what the hell is a brefo? and why the hell would they want 100? This isn't even a contained incedent, I've had three different people do the same thing. What the hell? and then I get the pleasure of trying to figure out whether they want it sliced or shaved. Apparently "Sliced or shaved" to them, means that I didn't hear you, so they say it louder. "100, 100".... Screw this, sliced it is.

Welcome to my world at work. This is it for now, My next shift is Thursday, Will comment more then.