I used the bathroom in the middle of the rush last night (not that I was busy, with my measly four tables), and was highly irritated to find that both stalls were had an empty roll of paper and the soap was out. I stomped out and found Lapdog dropping some dishes in the GU.
“Can I get your keys? Whoever had bathrooms today …..” I took a breath, not wanting to go into a diatribe. “... whoever had bathrooms must have been busy.”
“Yeah,” he snapped, “just like you guys are so busy now and that's why I'm cleaning your tables.”
I spread my hands innocently. “Hey, they're not my tables.”
He handed me his keys as he stalked past me to the sink. “We all run the same floor, there's no 'yours' and 'mine.'” he growled.
Oh, what the fuck ever. I thought, but I in the spirit of teamwork I just said, “That's very true.”
“Yeah, so why don't you go clean some tables?”
“I'd love to, but right now I'm busy doing somebody's daytime sidework.” I snapped, shaking his keys at him as I turned on my heel.
His laugh followed me past the cooks' line. “I know. Thank you, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?
8 comments:
That is a weird exchange.
It's like he was tunnel-visioned as to why he had to bus tables, but made a frighteningly quick 180 when he realized you were doing something useful.
I don't think anything will ever change in the restaurant business. It was like that 30 years ago and probably will be 30 years from now.
I hate your job. I hate your boss. I do not miss being belittled so subtley and do not look forward to ever working with a jerk who only see's whats NOT being done.
You're a rock star for handling it the way you did...but sweetheart? barf.
It's bad enough when customers call us sweetheart - but a manager. ick.
It was nice of you to do that, instead of just leaving it.
Ew! I doubt he even thought about it, and he definately didn't mean anything about it, but if my asshole manager ever called me that, I would run screaming out of the joint and take a shower.
Also, you gotta love being chewed out for not doing someone else's job while you are trying to do yet another person's job. Especially when your manager is too lazy to figure out who are the workers and the slackers, and tries to hide it by using obnoxious, transparent moralizations like 'we're a team, it's everyone's job!' and 'well,I'm not playing the blame game.' Seriously, having a work ethic in the restaurant industry should come with a bottle of lube.
You guys make my laugh. :) It's so nice to know that somebody is on my side with all this shit!
I'm not sure I'd resist the urge to tell him that I'm an employee, not his maid, his lover or his mother. The managers need to either get people to do stuff when and how they're supposed to do it or do it themselves. Of course, we all know they won't do it *themselves* but in a perfect society - meh.
One can dream. :)
I've often zoned out while doing something that was assigned to someone else. The daydreams usually involved throwing knives (or as was the case with one manager, spatulas) and those round table things that people getting knives thrown at them are tied to.
I always hated being called "sweetheart" and "sweetie". They just sound false and semi-sarcastic. I can usually handle "hon" and "honey" but that's only because I've lived in the south for s'damn long.
:huggles:
~watergirl~
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