I really don't understand what this means.

I was left this credit card slip weeks ago, and I still just don't get it. Did I call to mind a donkey?

They just keep finding ways to make it suck more.

This is what I hate about corporate restaurants: Oh who am I kidding, there's a lot to hate. But one of things is the fact that pencil-pushing douchebags with no actually experience make decisions that fuck my up life. Usually it's just in little ways, but those little ways add up.

This time, they've decided that we're going to switch to actual glasses for all our drinks, rather than the plastic tumblers we've used for the entire time the chain has been open. So now, instead of night lightweight plastic that weighed maybe two ounces empty, we're using these big heavy damned glasses. They're several inches taller, and narrower at the bottom than the top--so you can imagine how stable they are on trays--and fucking hell, are they heavy. Empty, they weigh more than a full plastic tumbler. Yeah, I guess they look better, but they also don't hold a chill very well, and I'd rather have cold liquid!

And, of course, they've switched us to these just in time for the patio to open. I anticipate many, many, many a broken glass as servers trying to bump open the patio door lose their grip on trays.

I know that this seems like such a small, pesky thing to be upset about--but Jesus H. Christ on a motherfucking cracker, why can't they just leave things alone?

Jobs in jeopardy.

Okay, okay, I'm back! Sorta. My brain is still trying to ignore the fact that I'm back to my regular life.

The bastard corporate monkeys have added yet another layer of stress to our lives. This shouldn't surprise me, of course. Basically, they've implemented a system of tracking our upsells. That in itself isn't that big a deal. What is a big deal is that instead of being a tool for rewarding us, they're using it as punishment.

They're now tracking us day by day and week by week. If over a two week period, my upsell percentage (upsell items/number of customers) is below the store's average, I have to go to a buttcrack-of-dawn meeting and "learn" how to make it better. If my percentage doesn't improve within two weeks after that, I get written up. If it still doesn't improve two weeks after that .... I no longer get to work. Yep, they're now threatening to fire people for not selling enough.

Thing is, the whole "the beatings shall continue until morale improves" part of this plan is optional. CL has chosen to inflict that on us. And here's what she can't seem to wrap her brain around: what the fuck an average is! Say all those steps are followed and five people below the average get fired. What happens, then, to the average? Oh yeah, it goes up! And that means new people are under the average, and new people are getting harassed!

I tried to point that out and got a blank stare in return.

You gotta do it or I'll strangle you.

The more I work with Dallas, the move convinced I become that she's on something. Or several somethings, more likely. A couple of Fridays ago, she was running around like she was freaking possessed. We couldn't understand half of what she was saying--it didn't even sound like English half the time. I think some of it was her spouting off random rap lyrics as she scuttled around the restaurant like a cockroach on crack.

After about four hours of this, I was getting annoyed. I was ringing in an order, and somebody else was rolling silverware next to me, when Dallas came flying around the corner. She jabbed the other person in the side and when she turned to look at her, Dallas just screamed something in her face. No idea what, but something loud and jumbled.

I was facing another five hours at work and I'd had it. Without raising my voice, I turned and said "Dude, you have got to calm down."

Dallas bounced up to her full height (like 4'9") and screeched, "I ain't gotta do nuttin! My momma's in Texas!"

*facepalm*