1. I don't need to hear your entire life story. All I do is transfer your call. Didn't get your paycheck? I'll transfer you to payroll. I don't need to hear that you didn't fax your timesheet in on time and that you really need your paycheck or that you were jipped of eight or nine hours. Oh, your nurse never showed? Let me transfer you to our personnel. I don't care that you have to leave for a doctor's appointment in two hours and that you need to get this blood work done immediately.
2. Please shut up around the front desk. The person on the phone that is telling me their life story doesn't need to hear about the pediatric case.
3. I don't care that you don't like the pens I bought. Too bad. I'm in charge of office supplies.
4. This also means I have control over the coffee supply, bitches.
5. I've seen you four times already. Please stop saying "hi" every time you pass my desk.
6. DON'T MOVE MY PHONE WHILE I'M ON LUNCH!
7. I see you sitting at your desk. Answer this call so they will stop bothering me.
8. Please return the restroom key.
9. Yes. I do need all of these post-it notes.
10. No, I do not care about your cat. Okay, that's a lie. I do.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Trading the Parmesan for Post-It Notes
"Mommy, can I have a milkshake?"
"Not for your meal, sweetheart. For dessert."
"BUT MOMMY, I WANT A MILKSHAKE."
"What flavors do you offer?" the mother asks with a sigh, completely ignoring the listed flavors sitting in front of her.
"Vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry." I purposely refuse to list any milkshakes with added sugar or espresso. God knows her children don't need that.
Forty-five minutes and a spilled milkshake later, I disappear into the walk-in and scream. I need to leave this restaurant for good. Why did I ever come back part time?
My name is Kim. I'm 22 years old and fresh out of undergrad.
If you're in the food business, and you think you're content with your job, take my advice.
YOU'RE NOT.
Everybody is content in retail until they escape.
I started serving in high school, continued through college (minus the year I dabbled in amusement parks... but I don't like to count that. I was desperate.) From the month before college graduate to a solid four months after, I chugged my way through whiny brats, stiffed checks, horrid hostesses, a lousy kitchen, and incompetent management all while hoping for a way out. My escape plan - administrative assistance... okay, fine. A receptionist.
Why? Why not? I worked in my school's admission office for three years. I knew how to answer phones and sound pleasant despite parent's not understanding why their precious child is in limbo and needs to come in for an additional interview. (That's a serving skill, by the way.) I knew how to copy things and file, transfer calls, organize and maintain a calendar. I liked Post-It notes. A receptionist job pleased my OCD.
So I did what every senior in college did around that time... I applied at a temp agency that specialized in clerical work. (I should have applied to grad school, but shh. It's coming, I promise!)
I waited impatiently for months, and finally, an opportunity presented itself in an odd way. I had applied for a part time job in the town I live in, and my agent called me to tell me the position was filled.
"We do, however, have a position that just opened today out in Pittsburgh. It's temp-to-hire, 9-5, $13 an hour. They're looking to hire immediately, so if I can forward your resumé, I'll get back to you by tonight."
Okay, sure, that sounds great, blah blah blah.
Two hours later, I got a call saying I received the job, and I started on the 1st of the month - 4 days later. I scrambled to tell everyone that mattered, and then made the dreaded call to my manager.
Yeah, you know that schedule that the GM just e-mailed you because she's taking her seventh vacation of the year? Well, I need you to rearrange all of it, because I can't work Monday-Thursday.
They weren't happy (mostly because the restaurant just lost 7 servers; most of them to a new restaurant, a few to injury, a few more to drugs, and one more to Florida...) but they complied.
Tuesday rolled around, and I waltzed in. To keep it short, I was thrown to the wolves. The office ladies and sirs were nice enough, but I worked with little to no training. My predecessor was also a temp who didn't know half of the inner workings and liked to invade my personal bubble. The girl that just resigned was supposed to come in and train me, but that's a whole new story. They threw me on a phone with a switchboard that connects to over 50 employees. I had no calendar, no online help... no online log-in. I was only temporary. I had a whiteboard with buttons that slid to "in" or "out" to tell me who was actually in the office. Even that wasn't accurate. Half the ladies left for a smoke break every hour, and some couldn't even be bothered to move their button.
The first two days were... kindly infuriating. Everyone was wonderful and helpful, but I was new and didn't know anything. All I knew was that I had an entire room of office supplies and a huge catalog from Office Depot, and there were no 45 minute checks, snippy old ladies, or $2 Tuesdays.
I'm happy... or I will be until Saturday when I have to go back to the restaurant.
"Not for your meal, sweetheart. For dessert."
"BUT MOMMY, I WANT A MILKSHAKE."
"What flavors do you offer?" the mother asks with a sigh, completely ignoring the listed flavors sitting in front of her.
"Vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry." I purposely refuse to list any milkshakes with added sugar or espresso. God knows her children don't need that.
Forty-five minutes and a spilled milkshake later, I disappear into the walk-in and scream. I need to leave this restaurant for good. Why did I ever come back part time?
My name is Kim. I'm 22 years old and fresh out of undergrad.
If you're in the food business, and you think you're content with your job, take my advice.
YOU'RE NOT.
Everybody is content in retail until they escape.
I started serving in high school, continued through college (minus the year I dabbled in amusement parks... but I don't like to count that. I was desperate.) From the month before college graduate to a solid four months after, I chugged my way through whiny brats, stiffed checks, horrid hostesses, a lousy kitchen, and incompetent management all while hoping for a way out. My escape plan - administrative assistance... okay, fine. A receptionist.
Why? Why not? I worked in my school's admission office for three years. I knew how to answer phones and sound pleasant despite parent's not understanding why their precious child is in limbo and needs to come in for an additional interview. (That's a serving skill, by the way.) I knew how to copy things and file, transfer calls, organize and maintain a calendar. I liked Post-It notes. A receptionist job pleased my OCD.
So I did what every senior in college did around that time... I applied at a temp agency that specialized in clerical work. (I should have applied to grad school, but shh. It's coming, I promise!)
I waited impatiently for months, and finally, an opportunity presented itself in an odd way. I had applied for a part time job in the town I live in, and my agent called me to tell me the position was filled.
"We do, however, have a position that just opened today out in Pittsburgh. It's temp-to-hire, 9-5, $13 an hour. They're looking to hire immediately, so if I can forward your resumé, I'll get back to you by tonight."
Okay, sure, that sounds great, blah blah blah.
Two hours later, I got a call saying I received the job, and I started on the 1st of the month - 4 days later. I scrambled to tell everyone that mattered, and then made the dreaded call to my manager.
Yeah, you know that schedule that the GM just e-mailed you because she's taking her seventh vacation of the year? Well, I need you to rearrange all of it, because I can't work Monday-Thursday.
They weren't happy (mostly because the restaurant just lost 7 servers; most of them to a new restaurant, a few to injury, a few more to drugs, and one more to Florida...) but they complied.
Tuesday rolled around, and I waltzed in. To keep it short, I was thrown to the wolves. The office ladies and sirs were nice enough, but I worked with little to no training. My predecessor was also a temp who didn't know half of the inner workings and liked to invade my personal bubble. The girl that just resigned was supposed to come in and train me, but that's a whole new story. They threw me on a phone with a switchboard that connects to over 50 employees. I had no calendar, no online help... no online log-in. I was only temporary. I had a whiteboard with buttons that slid to "in" or "out" to tell me who was actually in the office. Even that wasn't accurate. Half the ladies left for a smoke break every hour, and some couldn't even be bothered to move their button.
The first two days were... kindly infuriating. Everyone was wonderful and helpful, but I was new and didn't know anything. All I knew was that I had an entire room of office supplies and a huge catalog from Office Depot, and there were no 45 minute checks, snippy old ladies, or $2 Tuesdays.
I'm happy... or I will be until Saturday when I have to go back to the restaurant.
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