1:44 p.m. - 2003-11-19
Huzzawha?
I came this close to becoming the absolute stupidest employee of the fish house last night. I almost missed my second shift in a row.
We all remember the events of Monday night/Tuesday morning. Well, being the paranoid schizo that I can be at times, I decided to hop by work after work on Tuesday to re-assure myself that I was not, in fact, scheduled to work.
But, in fact, I was.
An employee (whose name is eerily similar to mine) was suspended this week. He has since quite, but that�s not the point. The point is that the managers had to find some person or persons to take his shifts for the week. Apparently, somehow volunteered for one shift via psychic ability because there it was, staring me in the face last night on the schedule: 5:30, Tuesday night, me. There was even a manager�s signature beside it to confirm that it was a bona fide Change To The Schedule. Gee, sure would have been nice if someone had TOLD ME ABOUT IT!
Had it been any other night, then I would have just chalked it up to an absent-minded manager who shall remain nameless (Hannah) and laughed it off. I might have even argued the point that I should not have to work as I had no knowledge that I was even supposed to. You can�t just go around changing people�s schedules after they�ve been posted and ogled without telling the person. It�s just not right! However, having already made an ass out of myself the previous evening, I decided to suck it up and take my shift.
But I had plans! Which I obviously had to cancel, making this time number three that I�ve ditched my friend because of work. I know and she knows that it�s just the nature of what I do � I never really know when I�ll be finished � but it�s still no less frustrating for both of us. I quite understood the phone message on my cell that simply said �You SUCK. Click.� I deserved it.
In any event, I avoided disaster at work and I will eventually make it up to my friend. I do, however, think I�ve totally screwed my chances of getting Employee of the Month.
11:45 a.m. - 2003-11-18
The Talk
Whenever a big boo-boo is made at work, there inevitably falls after it The Talk with a superior. I hate The Talk. Anyone who likes the Talk is either a masochist or in serious need of medication.
You would think that my loathing of The Talk would somehow dissuade me from making stupid mistakes. Somehow, however, that is not the case. My superior ability to fuck up at the most inopportune and unexpected moments has once again reared its ugly head, and I�m up for The Talk.
Let�s just hope I�m not in the running for the Being Fired.
I wrote that 45 very long minutes ago. I�ve since had The Talk and I�m glad to report that I�m not fired.
Here�s the background: I missed a shift at work last night.
While checking the schedule last week for shifts, I somehow managed to glance at either the person above or below me on the schedule and saw that I wasn�t working on Monday night. A quick re-examination of said schedule (about 30 minutes ago) confirmed that I was indeed working. Not that I really needed to confirm it. The phone message I received at 7:30 last night asking me where the Hell I was (I was supposed to be in at 6) spelled it out quite clearly.
The message was received at about 9:30 pm, whereupon I quickly phoned the restaurant and apologized profusely. I asked the manager on duty �Hannah, am I fired?� to which she responded something to the effect of �I don�t know�.
I�ve been having a shitfit since about 9:35 pm last night.
I made the decision to plead for my job this morning before the restaurant opened. Wayne, our general manager and decider of fates, was not working last night so it was quite possible that he hadn�t even heard what happened. My theory was to get to him first, tell him what happened in my own and get down on my knees and beg to not be fired.
Now, you might think that this was a bit of an overreaction. The thing is, technically, it wasn�t the first time this has happened. Six months ago, a similar event transpired in which I thought that I had arranged for someone to take my shift on a Friday night, but in fact, hadn�t. A strong accent and my disinclination to ask the fellow employee to repeat what he said a third time were somewhat to blame. That, however, didn�t do me much good when I received a phone call at around 7:30 asking me where the Hell I was (I was supposed to be in at 6). In this case, I was written up � my first ever real big infraction at the restaurant. On top of that, in the past two or three months, four people have been fired and one suspended thus prompting the rumor that our dear GM is �cleaning house�.
Thus, you can see how I wasn�t too optimistic about having a chat with our GM.
Fortunately, it turns out my Talk needn�t have been capitalized. Wayne, in fact, hadn�t heard what had happened. So, I pleaded me case. Here�s the jist of the conversation:
Wayne: What�s up?
Me: Did you hear what happened last night?
Wayne: Nope.
Me: Ok well�I missed my shift last night I�m sorry I misread the schedule I�m so sorry it�s completely my fault I�m so so sorry please don�t fire me I�m really sorry it�ll never happen again. Sorry.
Wayne: That�s ok. Shit happens.
Me: Huzzawha??
I was confused but that soon faded. I felt as light as air. A big, goofy smile took over my face as Wayne shuffled away. Oddly, some defective part of my brain then decided to ask, �You�re not even going to write me up?� Fortunately, Wayne�s response was No. So, I made my way to the exit while shouting to my friends �Yay, I�m not fired!� We rejoiced and I went back to the office.
And here I am, still with a job and one shitfit lighter.
