It was crazy fucking busy at my store a couple of Fridays ago. Like every Friday, I was working Curveside™ to-go. Alone. If you're new to These American Servers™—and these days, who isn't?—Curveside is the gimmick where you phone in your to-go order and I put it together and bring it out to your ride. Most of your full-service, corporate casual dining restaurant-type chains have something similar, by whatever name they call it.
When I got to work at the usual time, 10:30 AM, there were a lot of Curveside orders already phoned in, written down and stuck to my register—mostly featuring really shitty handwriting—including a couple of massive Corporate Picnics with oceans of special mods. I was getting weeded as soon as I clocked in and we didn't even open for 30 more minutes.
At this store, I'm lucky to have competent managers who're (whores?) not skittish about jumping into the mix if they're needed and helping out. They help me plenty and I appreciate it. However, a lot of the time, they're busy eating the weeds of other employees or handling various crucial situations and I'm left to play my position as best I can without a lot of assistance from anyone.
When you're working Curveside, you frequently get those eager motherfuckers who pull up way before their quoted time. It's usually not a big deal but that Friday it was like the trendy, latest thing that all the cool kids were into. Fortunately, everybody was pretty chill. I'd smile and tell them, "Hi! I wasn't expecting you for another 15 (or whatever) minutes," and they'd be OK. Except that by hogging the parking, they were cockblocking hungry motorists whose orders were ready. Most of these victims had the good sense and telecommunications to call and tell me where they'd found parking and I was able to get them taken care of. I dealt with it but all the extra steps ate up precious seconds.
At one point during the busiest part of the whole ordeal, a nice, pretty attractive blonde, mid-30's, ordered and pulled up at the appointed time. I got her order out to her, negotiated commerce and made her some change. She commenced to johnsoning around with the ones and fives she'd received. It looked like I was in line for some tippage. I was so trying to not crash and burn that I inwardly frowned and said "fuck it" and outwardly smiled and said "thank you!" and hauled my ass back to the kitchen to bag up more orders. I felt really bad when, two or three minutes later, I was hustling out of the kitchen with several satchels of to-go grub and my lady had gotten out of her silver 2008 Hyundai® Elantra® and walked into the store so as to give me four dollars. She's a nice person; her name's Joy. I seriously hope and expect Joy's not reading this but if you are, thank you Joy. That was very kind and you didn't have to do it.
When I got to work at the usual time, 10:30 AM, there were a lot of Curveside orders already phoned in, written down and stuck to my register—mostly featuring really shitty handwriting—including a couple of massive Corporate Picnics with oceans of special mods. I was getting weeded as soon as I clocked in and we didn't even open for 30 more minutes.
At this store, I'm lucky to have competent managers who're (whores?) not skittish about jumping into the mix if they're needed and helping out. They help me plenty and I appreciate it. However, a lot of the time, they're busy eating the weeds of other employees or handling various crucial situations and I'm left to play my position as best I can without a lot of assistance from anyone.
When you're working Curveside, you frequently get those eager motherfuckers who pull up way before their quoted time. It's usually not a big deal but that Friday it was like the trendy, latest thing that all the cool kids were into. Fortunately, everybody was pretty chill. I'd smile and tell them, "Hi! I wasn't expecting you for another 15 (or whatever) minutes," and they'd be OK. Except that by hogging the parking, they were cockblocking hungry motorists whose orders were ready. Most of these victims had the good sense and telecommunications to call and tell me where they'd found parking and I was able to get them taken care of. I dealt with it but all the extra steps ate up precious seconds.
At one point during the busiest part of the whole ordeal, a nice, pretty attractive blonde, mid-30's, ordered and pulled up at the appointed time. I got her order out to her, negotiated commerce and made her some change. She commenced to johnsoning around with the ones and fives she'd received. It looked like I was in line for some tippage. I was so trying to not crash and burn that I inwardly frowned and said "fuck it" and outwardly smiled and said "thank you!" and hauled my ass back to the kitchen to bag up more orders. I felt really bad when, two or three minutes later, I was hustling out of the kitchen with several satchels of to-go grub and my lady had gotten out of her silver 2008 Hyundai® Elantra® and walked into the store so as to give me four dollars. She's a nice person; her name's Joy. I seriously hope and expect Joy's not reading this but if you are, thank you Joy. That was very kind and you didn't have to do it.
Nice to be surprised by kindness!
ReplyDeleteTru dat, Mandy! Hey, thx lots 4 reading and commenting, I invite you to come back anytime.
DeleteCheers, ____-Joe
What are Corporate Picnics?
ReplyDeleteThey're, like, when the boss of some whole office, lawyers or medical ppl a lot, springs for lunch for the whole crew. I think you mite have just inspired a future episode of These American Servers, btw. Anyway, thx 4 reading and commenting and I'll hope you'll visit again often.
ReplyDeleteCheers, _________-Joe