Antique Mommy is having a backpack giveaway at her blog and one of the things you have to do to get said backpack is to leave a comment telling her about your worst job.
I thought that since I have my own blog, I would write a lengthy, boring post about it. So, sit back, kick your feet up, and pop some popcorn. This one is a doozy.
When I was in college, I needed a job. At that time, Doc was my boyfriend and he was working at a restaurant as a waiter. He decided to put in a good word for me and I got a job as a waitress there.
I was 19 years old and, people, 19-year-olds do not make good waitresses. It takes life experience and learning to multi-task before you make a half-way decent one.
Since I had little life experience and my idea of multi-tasking was eating and watching TV at the same time, it took some work to turn me into a respectable waitress.
Not long into my job, I was in the kitchen ordering extra white gravy. When it was ready, I turned with it in my hand and ran right into the pole that was behind me. I hit it so hard that I bounced off of it and landed on my knees. Gravy flew everywhere.
It was all over my hair, clothes, the floor.....and right smack in my eye. I'm not kidding. There was white gravy in my eye. The problem with this scenario is that I wear contacts. By that time, I had only been wearing those horrible inventions a few years and was not as self-confident about them as I am now. Not that I'm not grateful. If it weren't for contacts, I'd be pushing up my glasses with my pointer finger to keep them from falling down my nose. But, pul..lease! If an eyelash gets in my eye, it feels like a razor is scraping across my eyelid, for Pete's sake! Uh..I digress.
I yelled to the entire kitchen, "I need saline solution RIGHT NOW!" Of course, no one had saline solution. I was on my knees in the middle of the room, covered with white gravy, and surrounded by sympathetic waitresses. I believe Doc got a good idea of what he was getting into when he walked into the kitchen at that moment.
Near the end of my only stint as a waitress, one of the customers I was serving stopped me and informed me that the busboy stole part of the tip left behind for me at one of the tables he was bussing.
I went to the manager with this information. You could hear the man yelling at the busboy a mile down the street. He was immediately sacked followed by an apology to me and the money he had taken. For some reason, I remember the money being wet with dishwater and wanting to puke either with the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach or from the knowledge that my money was touched with so many germs.
Needless to say, that was a life experience for me.
I thought that since I have my own blog, I would write a lengthy, boring post about it. So, sit back, kick your feet up, and pop some popcorn. This one is a doozy.
When I was in college, I needed a job. At that time, Doc was my boyfriend and he was working at a restaurant as a waiter. He decided to put in a good word for me and I got a job as a waitress there.
I was 19 years old and, people, 19-year-olds do not make good waitresses. It takes life experience and learning to multi-task before you make a half-way decent one.
Since I had little life experience and my idea of multi-tasking was eating and watching TV at the same time, it took some work to turn me into a respectable waitress.
Not long into my job, I was in the kitchen ordering extra white gravy. When it was ready, I turned with it in my hand and ran right into the pole that was behind me. I hit it so hard that I bounced off of it and landed on my knees. Gravy flew everywhere.
It was all over my hair, clothes, the floor.....and right smack in my eye. I'm not kidding. There was white gravy in my eye. The problem with this scenario is that I wear contacts. By that time, I had only been wearing those horrible inventions a few years and was not as self-confident about them as I am now. Not that I'm not grateful. If it weren't for contacts, I'd be pushing up my glasses with my pointer finger to keep them from falling down my nose. But, pul..lease! If an eyelash gets in my eye, it feels like a razor is scraping across my eyelid, for Pete's sake! Uh..I digress.
I yelled to the entire kitchen, "I need saline solution RIGHT NOW!" Of course, no one had saline solution. I was on my knees in the middle of the room, covered with white gravy, and surrounded by sympathetic waitresses. I believe Doc got a good idea of what he was getting into when he walked into the kitchen at that moment.
Near the end of my only stint as a waitress, one of the customers I was serving stopped me and informed me that the busboy stole part of the tip left behind for me at one of the tables he was bussing.
I went to the manager with this information. You could hear the man yelling at the busboy a mile down the street. He was immediately sacked followed by an apology to me and the money he had taken. For some reason, I remember the money being wet with dishwater and wanting to puke either with the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach or from the knowledge that my money was touched with so many germs.
Needless to say, that was a life experience for me.
Comments
Now that I'm older, I am able to shrug things off faster. Whenever I think of my waitress job now, I have a good laugh. :)