Not worth the 40%

Tweedle Dum Sum was checking over our receipts from the shift the night before when this fun little bit of fun occurred.

Tweedle Dum Sum:  Hey.  Hey you girl.  What does this say?  (She shoves a receipt in my face.  The bill was $108 and they left me a $40 tip.  It was incredibly generous, and I remember the family clearly.)

*!#@: Yes, they left me a $40 tip.  It was a really nice family of five.  They seemed to really like me.

Tweedle Dum Sum: $40 is ridiculous.  You not good enough to get big tips.  (She melodramatically crossed the zero off of the 40 and walked away.  Thankfully, I got my full tip, but I found it amusing that she thought she was in control of how much money other people choose to give me.)

For anyone who is still paying attention.

I had an idea a while back for a photography project that involved creating ransom notes showcasing people’s most embarrassing/disgusting habits.  I want it to be kept anonymous though.  So…since the majority of the time I am speaking to people on facebook only, I’d like for you to email me some habit of some sort that is just awful.  Something that you would never admit to anyone else.  I figure if you send it to my email address I won’t have a clue who you are, unless your email is something like First Initial_Last name, in which case I will probably figure it out.  The email I want you to send stuff to is 500thfloor@gmail.com.

Christ I hope this works.

You people should be reading actual magazines.

Shying away from my hateful boss for a moment, I’d like to point out that I have recently gotten published for the first time.  A story I wrote, called “The Clouds” is in this months issue of an ezine called Congruent Spaces.  You can check them out at www.congruentspaces.com.  The issues are super cheap, and there are a ton of great stories in this issue.  Also, keep an eye out for the next installment, as my friend over at www.meekrat.com is having one of his stories published in it.  Thanks for continuing to support our weak writing skills.

The vacation.

Tweedle Dim Sum was away on business for a month, leaving Tweedle Dum Sum in charge with another employee.  Lets call this other employee Lucy, because, well, it is actually her name, and she was nice to me so I won’t make fun of her.  Apparently, Lucy brought out what little kindness Tweedle Dum Sum had hiding in the deepest regions of her subconscious and she was being pretty civilized with me while Tweedle Dim Sum was gone.  I spent a good portion of the month actually enjoying my job, which was nice.

When Tweedle Dim Sum got back, she was smiling.  It was terrifying.  She said hello to a few other employees, and even talked nicely to Derek, the employee that she hated just a little bit less than she hated me.  He came up to me after their conversation.

Derek: She was nice to me.  She is never nice to me.  Should I be worried?

Arfegnuggen McDuggen: Well, she hasn’t talked to me yet.  If she is nice to me, then you should be worried.

Derek:  Haha, this is true.

A little while later, while I was getting drinks for a table, I saw Tweedle Dim Sum walk into the service area.  I had been respectfully avoiding her since she came back, not wanting to instigate anything and sort of hoping she would just leave without saying anything at all to me.  She came up next to me and stared at me for an uncomfortably long time.

Arfegnuggen McDuggen: Welcome back.  (I had a huge smile on my face.)

Tweedle Dim Sum:  You can’t just stand here and doing nothing.  People are waiting to be sit, and you just doing nothing.  Quit be so lazy and get to work.

And off she went.  I think I need to add here that, as I said already, I was busy at the fountain getting drinks for a table.  Also, there was a hostess on duty whose job was to seat tables, and ALSO, there were no guests waiting to be seated.

Don’t worry, Derek.  Shes back to her normal self again.

The new job.

After I was told I would be getting horrible shifts, Tweedle Dim and Dum Sum made it a point to follow through with their punishment.  My shifts were short and terrible, and I could barely survive off the scraps and spare change I was able to scrounge up while I was there.  So, I started looking for a new job.  A second job, really, something to help supplement my income at the restaurant.  I decided to keep the job, partially because I knew if I could work even just one weekend shift, I’d be rounding out the month with a few hundred dollars in my pocket.  But mainly, it was because I wanted to make this site last as long as possible, and I have nothing else of any importance to write about.

Tweedle Dum Sum: Your schedule change.

Deadmau5: What about it?

Tweedle Dum Sum: You can only work Saturdays now?

Deadmau5: Yep.

Tweedle Dum Sum: Why?

Deadmau5:  I got another job.

Tweedle Dum Sum:  What do you mean you got another job?  (Before I got a chance to respond, she interrupted me.) How could you do this to us?  After all we do for you?  You so lazy and ungrateful!

Deadmau5:  I had to get another job, Tweedle.  I can’t survive on one weekday shift a week.

Tweedle Dum Sum:  Why you do this to us?

Deadmau5: It’s not like you really need me anyway.  (Can you see how little I care?)

Tweedle Dum Sum:  You stupid girl, you need to ask me permission before working somewhere else!

The demand for a pin drop to be heard. (PART ONE!)

I was sweeping underneath my tables after my shift was over, quietly moving the chairs out of the way so I could really get at all the dirty spaces on the floor.  There were a few clinking sounds from time to time, a result of the chair legs hitting the linoleum, but it was barely audible over the talking and loud chewing and smacking noises coming from the other customers.  Tweedle Dim Sum popped up behind me, glaring crookedly as usual.

Tweedle Dim Sum:  God, why you make so much noise?

Dapper Dan:  Its hard to do this without making any noise.

Tweedle Dim Sum:  You so noisy!  You doing this all wrong!  Stop waste my time, stupid girl.  No more sweeping until all customers gone!

Apparently, I don’t even know how to sweep properly.  My entire life up to this point has been a lie.

Not Getting Paid

It was 10:45.  We close at 9.  I had one table left, and they wouldn’t leave.  The radio, the TV, and most of the lights were off.  Plus all of the food was gone, and all of the kitchen staff were sitting at a big table towards the back of the restaurant just staring at these people like they were planning on eating them.  These people, despite all of the signs that we were no longer in service, kept asking for more alcohol.  The drunker they got, the less they cared that I had taken a seat almost right next to them, with my jacket on, simultaneously reading a book and sending texts to my boyfriend.  I suddenly feel a disturbance in my calm little center I had built around myself, so I looked up to see Tweedle Dum Sum standing next to me, her hands on her hips.

Tweedle Dum Sum:  You still on clock?

Betty Boop:  (I paused for a moment.  I couldn’t tell if I had heard her correctly.  It seemed like a question with such an obvious answer.  I went about this carefully.)  Yes.  I still have a table.  I’m-”

Tweedle Dum Sum:  You realize how late it is?

Betty Boop: (Another careful pause)  Yes?  I can’t get them to leave.

Tweedle Dum Sum: Why you still on clock?

Betty Boop:  Because I have a table.

Tweedle Dum Sum:  I want to go home.  I have kids.

Betty Boop: So do I.  I’d really like to see my kid tonight too.

Tweedle Dum Sum: I want to be with my kids.

Betty Boop: Me too.

Tweedle Dum Sum:  What is wrong with you?

Betty Boop: I….

Tweedle Dum Sum:  You have to clock out.  So I can close down the computer and go home.

Betty Boop:  But I am still here working.

Tweedle Dum Sum:  Stop arguing!  You are such a bad server!  You don’t do your job!  This is why I give you all the bad shifts!

Betty Boop: But what did I do?

Tweedle Dum Sum:  (She scoffs disgustedly)  I can’t believe you!  You have so much nerve!  Clock out so I can go home!

Betty Boop:  I don’t really think that that is legal.

Tweedle Dum Sum: Clock out so I can go home!

I stayed at work, off the clock, for another hour so she could go home.  This became a repulsive trend at the company.  I did, in fact, start getting the really awful shifts.  Working from 7 pm to 9 pm and such.  Almost every night, I was forced to clock out at 9 and continue to work, off the clock, until my last table left.  I easily worked an extra 10 hours a week without getting paid for it.