I’ve had a couple of posts on the back burner. Wanting to type positivity; about where I’m at in life, and how everything is smoothing out.
FUCK THAT!!!
All that you need to know is that the bar I work at gave me extra hours in the form of barbacking after cooking hours on Sunday nights. Not the day I want. Not even the shift. But I took what I could get at the time.
6 months ago, we first worked together. But because it was my first time doing any of it, they shortened the barback shift by having me stay in the kitchen 2 hours longer than usual. Mind you, I have no experience. In all actuality, they threw this at me in lieu of server training.
So, of course, I’m asking a lot of questions. I have this barely organized list of what to do on the shift. Did all of it, but it took me extra time to figure out everything. I don’t know beer names, okay? Most of your time is eaten by two entities: stocking the coolers & and the chunk of all your closing responsibilities.
All this to say, we leave like 2:25. Which on my list is even earlier than the expected time. I will admit, because there were some things that weren’t on my first list, I just didn’t end up doing them. And she probably had to do them . That isn’t really my fault, and it obviously didn’t slow us down that much. But I do try to keep honest records, and it’s probably a big reason(but no excuse) for what happened next.
I came back two days later for my next kitchen shift to the manager telling me Kaylee complained about wanting to get out by like 2:30. And I’m like what the fuck does that even mean? He tells me that he’s going to keep watch and guide me through shit, I think, acknowledging that I was kinda thrown into it all.
…
Now, I truly don’t know how much I’ve discussed it in this diary site. I. HATE. Being micromanaged. Even if I need it. I hate the shit. This goes on for both my long ass shifts the second Sunday (cooking/barbacking). Because I’m new ish to both, he takes the chance to criticize whatever I’m doing, THAT WHOOOOOLE NIGHT!
But honestly, as annoying as it was, I do welcome constructive, warranted, or solicited. Most of the things he nagged me about were, at the very least, warranted…
But anyway, this time, I’m doing EVERYTHING. And while it’s taking me some time to get my groove, I’ve pretty much got all of my shit done. I’m ready to go when she’s ready to go. We leave at like 2:15. This time, I notice she’s leaving in a much better attitude this time.
So imagine MY SURPRISE when I hear from the same manager that I got the SAME COMPLAINT from this BITCH! And we gear up to do the exact same shit next Sunday. Only this time,me and the manager make a new and improved list, with a little extra.
This Sunday, we leave around the same time. Everything’s is smoother, and after that, no complaints. Outside of minor notes about times to do things and maybe additional things to do, this was how we went about Sunday bar closing for 5-6 months.
Kaylee and I had barely any issues…
Cut to like 3-4 weeks ago when she magically decides that moving the chairs around the bar is really the barback’s job halfway through a shift. I honestly forgot, but even if I remembered, I wouldn’t really give a shit because it wasn’t on the now existing general barback duties list.
This list was made because of my coworker who came in like a month after me, a new cook, and I had started taking barback shifts. It’s already been adjusted a few times. But it’s a clear list that makes sense.
Because I didn’t move the chairs and sweep around the bar, Kaylee, whenever she was done with whatever the hell she was doing angrily grabbed the broom and dustpan and glared at me and then took like 20 minutes to do it.
The next Sunday, she asked me to do it again along with sweeping under tables away from the bar and mopping around the bar AND wipe down the wells. Stuff she had NEVER ASKED PREVIOUSLY. Now I know what some of you are thinking. Stop whining and just do it. But when the manager tells you,”Anything not on this list isn’t being paid to be done.” Essentially saying it’s not your job. So, while I swept and mopped it, because I’m not just gonna outright ignore her. When I’m done she takes the fucking broom and we sweeps for another fucking 20 minutes. Glaring at me again as if to say, ‘You know that isn’t clean enough.’ Like what the hell do you mean? And passive-aggresively sweeping isn’t winning you anything.
The next week. I do sweep and mop. She seems to take issue with it again. I clean the wells this time, too. There are no issues with that. But again, with her being passive-aggressive and childish. At this point, I’m like, I really might just start ignoring this bitch.
Now we are at last night/this morning. It has been 2 hours since I drove off. And I’m still pissed. Long story short. I did everything… EARLY! EVERYTHING!!! Everything on the list, everything she’s recently tacked on. Everything. And I do it all early because she told me we were gonna fucking close and leave early. All of my shit is done at 1:30. And then I wait in the back because I don’t think she has much else to do, nor do I think she’ll take long doing it. Partially because I’m tired of her tacking on shit that I knew is truly her fucking job, but I digress.
39 minutes later, this bitch is FINALLY done, and looks at me and says, “Wow! Amazing! I’ve never seen this from a barback! Hiding in the backroom? Totally uncool!!!” And then she tells me my tipout is at the front and that she’s ready.
…
I was fuming, didn’t say shit though cause I was also ready. When we left, of course we didn’t say a word to each other. But she took it upon herself to go a step further to speedwalk her short ass to her car. Trying to put distance between us. Even though we have to park next to each other anyway. I was fuckin gone. But this day didn’t wash over me the way other days have. That’s why you’re even seeing this.
Kaylee, you’ve got me fucked up. You could’ve waited to take your first cigarette break at close or maybe even the second to close early with me like you fucking asked me to do. You spent damn near an hour outside and you want my fucking help doing your shit too? So, on top of doing all my jobs, AND doing everything the servers and cooks neglected, you want me to also do your motherfucking job while you smoke your Newports? You’re mad because I didn’t wipe down the bar for you, when you’re the motherfucking bartender?
Eat a dick Kaylee! After writing this up, it’s clear that you’re better off crying to yourself in the car because the incompetent alcoholics that will take my place will refuse to do even half as good as I do. Smoke up your Sundays in hell. Maybe if you weren’t such an inefficient, disingenuous hag, the owners would like you. They would put you and your three kids in a better position than Chloe and her two dogs. But no, people never learn or change. And me leaving will only rid her of the need to complain about people not doing their jobs as she will soon have to grasp that nothing she says or does from this point onward will matter as she in a way has doomed herself greatly.
…..
Thanx for Listening 💋💋💋
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