8NOT SURE WHAT I WROTE, BUT I WROTE IT MWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAAAA!
Excuse me, but what the actual fuck?
I stared at the schedule Bella had put up earlier today. I stared, narrowing my eyes further and further with every passing second until I was squinting.
Let me repeat myself for the sake of dramatics.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?
I mean, who scheduled someone to work from five to eight in the morning and then noon to eight at night IN THE SAME FUCKING DAY?
That was an eleven hour shift/three and eight hour shifts, goddamn it!
And so, I did the first thing that came to mind.
I called each and every one of my fellow coworkers to see if they would take half of the double toiled trouble that was given to me.
Fifteen minutes later found me slumping against a wall in agonized defeat.
Here's what I found out.
Jacob's Emergency: "My uncle is in the hospital due to his sawing off his thumb."
Chandler's Dilemma: "My aunt is taking my car to a drag race so I don't have a ride to work."
Terry's Excuse: "My cousin is going through a bad break-up."
Whhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?
Like, whhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?
So I approached the wife of Hades (a.k.a. my manager) in a manner of fury I was never aware I was capable of.
"…Hi Bella… Whatcha doing?"
Okay, so maybe I wasn't all fired up like I should've been. Maybe I was a bit terrified of what she would do to me had I actually yelled bloody murder like I wanted to.
That's when it happened. I was given… The Glare.
"Wh-what's wrong?"
"Did you stock the bar area with sugar packets and napkins and stir sticks? What are you going to do if you have a long line of customers and one of them complains about not having enough sugar to put in their coffee? Are you going to stop just to tend to that customer? And did you fill the half-and-half creamers up? How are people who don't like their coffee black supposed to get a quality experience from us if you don't fill up the creamer containers? Did you stock the kiosk with plenty of cups and lids of all sizes within reach? What are you going to do when you get customer after customer and you run out of cups and lids? How are we supposed to make business off of them, huh? They're not going to wait around for you to run to the back where we keep our supplies. They're going to go to a crappy McDonald's and get a crappy cup of coffee. Do you want that, huh? Do you?!"
"…I'm…going to go and do stuff now."
"Good. Away with you now."
She went back to texting her boyfriend.
So there you had it. I was a Starbucks barista for a Starbucks kiosk inside a grocery store.
I stocked plenty of sugar packets into the little cubbyholes meant for the sugar packets. Sugar packets included regular, Splenda, Equal, Sweet and Low, Stevia, and Sugar in the Raw.
There were napkins in every possible area near the kiosk. And when I say every, I mean EVERY.
Wooden stir sticks were replenished in the stir-sticks-jar. Green coffee lid stoppers were replenished in the stoppers-jar. Straws, short and tall, were replenished in the straws-jar.
The half-and-half creamer pitchers were filled to the brim with half-and-half. People wouldn't be able to complain about the lack of half-and-half available for their twelve ounce cup of coffee. The cup that held, like, a centimeter of space for cream.
Cups and lids were restocked in their appropriate place inside the kiosk itself.
The tower of upside-down cups was so high, I almost couldn't reach the top. Almost.
The stack of lids was so high, it looked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
I also went above and beyond and filled the caramel sauce and mocha sauce bottles with fresh product, made fresh Cold Brew that would be customer-ready in twenty hours, made sweet cream for the Cold Brew, made mocha, made skinny mocha, brewed fresh coffee every thirty minutes, and did dishes.
Oh, yeah. I also tended to our few, but loyal customers while doing all of the above.
Why?
BECAUSE BELLA WAS OFF DOING WHO-KNOWS-WHAT.
You know what? One of these days, I'm gonna let her have it. I'm really gonna let her have it. I'm gonna yell, scream, stomp my foot on the ground, and rant about the unfairness of it all. Why? Because I am an independent nineteen year old with the mind frame of a child and I can do whatever I want so ha! SO HA!
"Oi. Stop daydreaming, girl, and get over here."
"Oh, okay! Coming, Bella!"
…Emphasis on ONE of these days.
Bella, it turned out, was doing paperwork for the purpose of inventory, inventory that should've been done yesterday.
"I'm only gonna say this once so listen up," she drawled in her Southern accent. "Next Saturday, you work eleven hours. Three hours in the morning as opening barista and eight hours at night as closing barista."
I decided to give her some attitude. "I already know that."
The Glare was given. "Quiet. Let me finish."
I decided to be meek. "Yes, ma'am."
"I can't work on Saturday and everyone else requested off. Everyone but Shelby, but she can only work eight to noon. So you will work five to eight and then noon to eight."
I decided to be daring and ask a question. "W-why can't you work?"
She laughed her high-pitched laugh and gave me a smug look. "My boyfriend is taking me out to dinner and I need some time to get ready."
HOLY—
"Oh, and you'll be training the new guy I just hired from noon to eight as well."
—FUCKBALLS!
HI, BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE.
IF YOU WERE A VEGETABLE, WHAT KIND OF VEGETABLE WOULD YOU BE? (my dedication to Ethempat/Vaerie is done) XD