Before you jump the gun and assume this is just another disgruntled employee story who wasn't coddled enough and was told how it is, understand not every work situation is like that. Every now and then someone comes along an establishment with the management on par with gas station sushi. This is also an understatement at times but for lack of a better analogy that is the one to stick with.
From the day I began my very first job, I was always a pretty decent worker. I learned as quickly as my brain would allow me, never showed up tardy, hardly ever called off work, etc. I respected my boss and my fellow coworkers and just as any employee I came to work, did my job, and went back home. This was the cycle I became used to and although it became highly repetitive and boring at times, it was a living. I was in college. I was taking time off. I needed money.
Like many others my age I have experience working in food service. This is including by not limited to bussing tables, hosting, being a server, a cook, whatever you can think of. So when I began yet another glorious job search I was thrilled to notice that an Italian restaurant was hiring right up the block from my house. When I went in for my interview they explained that they needed a server. They needed a bus person. They needed a hostess. I can laugh (maybe) at this situation now but back then I was mortified to discover my job was to do all three. At the same time. Every single time I showed up to work I would basically do three jobs in one. I was the only waitress therefore, I took care of each table. I know what you're thinking, tips tips tips. However, you try and manage fifteen tables at once while also greeting customers entering the place and cleaning their plates and flatware after they leave and then rushing to the cash register to ring them out.
Try I did. I would come home feet throbbing sweaty and extremely fatigued. My boyfriend at the time would look at me and question repeatedly how I did it every day. Truth be told to this day I still don't know what happened that enabled me to remain there for the three months I did. Most would think it was not only the encouragement of my family and friends but also of those who employed me. You would be disgustingly wrong.
The woman who hired me was the manager, her husband was also somewhat in charge although the wife seemed to push him around so much he was rarely around towards the last month. Their son was a carbon copy of the mother and thought he was a gourmet chef on the Food Network bossing people around metaphorically spitting in people's faces. To my dismay he was there every single day as well. Their son was ten. The only redeeming character in this horror story was the cook. He was a middle-aged sweet man who greeted me every morning and reminded me I was doing a good job.
Back to the woman. As a huge feminist I will never be against a woman in charge. In fact, when I learned she was the head honcho it gave me a sense of happiness and I was excited to work alongside a strong independent woman. This was not the case. This woman was the most foul, angry, ungrateful person I had ever worked for. On multiple occasions, she would scream, not just raise her voice, scream on the top of her lungs at me in front of customers. She in one case took the silverware tray out of the dishwasher and threw it into my body and commanded me to put them away. I was constantly insulted and was never told any words of encouragement. This is not to say I should be told how amazing I am every ten minutes, but a simple good job after single-handedly running your place for you would have sufficed.
The final straw came on the afternoon of a benefit lunch. The place I was working at was holding a barbecue and for a set price you received a meal of chicken, corn, and probably some starch. This was so long ago and I've repressed so much that some details are a tad fuzzy. The place was packed to the point where we ran out of seats. Of course, I was handling this all while the woman sat on her ass somewhere but still in distance to yell at me. I got to the point where a couple got tired of waiting for a table to clear that they decided to take their business elsewhere. You would have thought I murdered her family and set her house on fire the way she reacted. She didn't show it though, she passive aggressively told me to leave for the day. This was a Saturday and I had been there for ten hours and I normally worked Sundays so I simply said I'll see you tomorrow and walked out. I never returned.
I wasn't petty; I wasn't a self righteous pompous asshole who felt the world owed her something. I know the fine line of how to be treated and how not to be. After that day I called them up to see when she wanted me to work next since they had no set schedule. They continuously gave me the runaround and never said when. Some people could interpret this to be the same as firing me. I was never told I was terminated. I was never fired. I never returned.
