The Concern of Drugs and Users at the Workplace #1 (Trigger Warning)

TW: Drugs

Flashing lights, sirens, a whole battalion of squad cars, firetrucks and ambulances; just another day on the job...

Last month we had a strange man constantly skulking about the property. Most likely on some form of drug, he would come in, tarnished clothes and thrashing arms as he sidestepped his way about the lobby. Repeatedly, he would fall asleep at one of the tables, or would cause some disturbance, and we'd end up kicking him out.

This man was in his late 40's and homeless. His hair a brunette mess of dirt and curls, and his beard scraggly and misshaped along his face. Often, if not always, he sported a green trench coat and well-worn boots. Some days we wouldn't notice him in the store until someone would point out that he had returned, and he would have to be removed from the property once more.

I recall the last time he entered our store vividly. We hadn't seen him enter the store, but customers had noticed his intrigue with the restroom and thought it a good idea to mention it after he disappeared into the stalls for some time. While this was of no immediate concern as it hadn't been long since he entered, we did make note to check in a few minutes to see if he was still in there.

Some small amount of time drifted by as the hour got busier, and none of us had even thought to check at the time until one customer went to enter the bathroom. What he saw shocked him and he rushed over to the counter to inform us of his discovery: The man was sitting cross legged on the floor at the doorway.

I was first to check.

As I rounded the corner and opened the door, I saw him there. His back to the door, he was completely unresponsive to me as I made noise and asked him if he was okay.

I returned to my manager and informed him of the situation. 911 was called, and within minutes we had cop cars, ambulances and firetrucks stationed outside of the store. Police and EMTs swarmed the bathroom, ready for the worst. They brought in medications, water, and more.

This man wasn't just despondent,  he was overdosing.

For the next thirty minutes, the store would be cleared of customers for the first time midday since it opened.

In and out uniformed men and women would rotate like a revolving door. They moved the man to the booths to the left of the front counter and worked on him there.

A wave of success flooded the store as they were able to bring the man back to a conscious state. Drool still covered his mouth and he was barely able to move by the time the police began digging through the backpack he was carrying.

You see, this man wasn't just a homeless man. As it turned out, this man was a wanted felon, who was wanted for distribution of massive amounts of heroin and cocaine.

After a quick search turned up some paraphernalia and bags of substances, the man was escorted out to the ambulance and brought away.

This was a surprising occurrence for the day, but it was and is not all that uncommon. We've had cops and ambulances in and out of the store several times since I began working here a few years ago, and I doubt it'll stop any time soon.

It's hard to break stereotypes about places like this when these happenings continue on a regular basis.

Anyway, I just thought to share that story. It was interesting to me and I hope it was interesting to you.


If you like this and want more content regarding the life of working in fast food/customer service, please take the time to follow me for more content on here, on facebook, or on twitter.

Vol. 11: Holidays

To begin this intriguing introspection on working holidays, I'd like you all to know I hate it.

Working fast food is difficult enough with the usual bustle of customer service clouding your every effort to do so much as breathe, but the aspect of working fast food changes entirely on days off.

I figured it was a good time for a comeback for this blog, as times are changing and I am learning effective new ways to utilize my time so one day I might be able to escape the endless cycle of 9-5 in a food service environment. While the job is still good, and the managers still wonderful to work with, I am finding it increasingly difficult to deal with the smallest aspects of the job, as constant days are wearing me thin, especially since becoming a manager.

Days off had practically become nonexistent and I have become tired as a result. The whole of this job has become somewhat an eyesore with a lack of days away from the place, and even days off I have to pass it on the way to college. Tomorrow is the Fourth of July (Independence Day) and as usual for every holiday (despite being told every other one would be given off) I am going to be working it at the busiest intervals. Now, though I am a fan of fireworks and fun, I am glad to say there is the possibility of rain, and I've never wanted it more than for tomorrow.

Working holidays, as I've finally gotten around to speaking about, is hell. Double, even triple customers at peak times and even slow times, a strain to even be able to step away for one minute with the chance of being flooded with streams of customers on all fronts, and a residual impact of extra customers through the weekend, as people have come in to visit family and friends. By no means am I truly a "People Person", and this is not looking to be a helpful scenario.

I've hated working holidays, parades, and festivals for some time. Even game days for local school teams are arduous and ill-fated provided I have to deal with the backlash of people swarming the scene the minute halftime approaches or the game ends. Grill work provides no better feeling as the table erupts in a haze of sandwich wrappers, meats, and cheese, and the grill gets covered with raw and cooked meat until the hours are up and either someone takes your place or you close.

It's safe to say people should cook out on the fourth, but that congregation that seeks local fireworks in a public area end up starving their night away until finally they relinquish their vile feelings of hunger with a burger from the local fast food joint, tightly packed in a wrapper and half-falling over. Complaints are caught within the congested traffic of a drive-thru, especially by those intoxicated after a night of party and poppers. These are people I wish would find solace in an out-of-town fireworks show or the favor of their own backyard.

Well, anyway, the night will usually hit peak times roughly halfway through evening until close. It's normally a good seven or eight hours of grueling away at a grill, or half-smiling at people you wish would just choose to go to the fast food place across the street, or just go home to sleep. However, this is the job, and what a job it is.

While this is the first post in a long time, I do plan on returning to form with weekly or bi-weekly inserts. If you would like to read more, please follow me here on my site by saving it to a bookmark and checking in regularly, or following my social media on facebook or twitter. Thank you for your time. If you'd like to support my efforts to relinquish myself from this disgusting job to follow more of a passion in writing and continuing school, I will be linking a patreon by the next post. Thank you once again for the time and I hope you all have a great day!

If you are reading this before the 4th or any other holiday, I hope you go forward with your plans responsibly and that you have a safe and fun time! Just please don't show up at my store when you're hungry. Cook burgers with your friends or family or, hell, even just alone. 

"IT'S ONLY BEEN TWO HOURS?!" - Looking at the clock during a 9-5 job

Don’t look at the Clock

I think one of the biggest mistakes to do when working in any location is looking at the clock. It could be on the wall, on your phone, or on a computer, but the results tend to stay the same. You look once, you no longer feel time passing as quickly as you once did. It plagues just about every person that’s ever worked a 9-5 job and will continue to forever more.

Yeah, life’s fun when you look at a clock isn’t it? It’s almost as if something is purposely slowing down time, or at least your perception of it. I wonder if there’s a name for this phenomenon? I’ll check it out before I post this, and if I find something, I’ll put it in the description with the links! You’ll know as soon as I do!

I think it’s honestly somewhat hilarious when you catch someone dealing with the problem. You’ll see them walk over to where the clock is, or pull out their phone, glance for ooooone second and suddenly their expression just changes. Sometimes, one of them will actually verbally express their discontent with a well placed “Dammit!” under their breath.

Fast food is pretty bad when it comes to this phenomenon, but the worst I’ve ever experienced it was when I worked in the grocery stores. Time already drags when all you do is ring people’s groceries up, or you put out produce, or slice meat, so when you look at a clock, it just pisses you off, even more, to know “IT’S ONLY BEEN TWO HOURS?!” Amazing, truly.

Recently, I’ve come up with a way to actually hold off this problem, though it only works about 30% of the time…

It’s, quite simple, actually. All you have to do when you look at the clock is to say, both in your head and aloud, “Man, I can’t believe it’s already [INSERT TIME HERE]! How incredible that so much time has already gone by!” I do this every time, and, in some cases, I can even feel like time has sped up!

This is the best advice I can hope to give. If you have any ways of dealing with this psychotic-break-inducing problem, please leave them in the comments below, or on whatever social media outlet you found this on.

Thank you for reading!

Why ask for Change? Wages and Hours in Fast Food

Who are we to ask for change?

From working hours to wages, we want change, yet who are we to ask for it?

All we do is work in fast food, a job that anyone can do!

Well, that’s not all true, not when you look at it from a truthful perspective. If you ask someone to come in and run the drive-thru with no training or understanding, how are they gonna get it done?

If you ask someone to man the grill, even with a day or two of training, how fast will they be? Will they run out of food in the cabinets?

Training in fast food can be grueling, as it is on-the-job and many of the employees are less than willing to accommodate your newness or help you, and many managers will ignore your need for help entirely, expecting you to learn and understand on your own.

Yet, when it comes down to it, who are we to ask for those few dollars more an hour to sustain our lives?

People tend to look at fast food as a simplistic job, capable of being done by anyone, but that isn’t true either, now, is it?

No, we slip, we fall, we carry and operate heavy boxes and equipment while maneuvering around others constantly. We have to perfect how we work, or we end up falling behind and deal with heavy reprimanding and the possibility of cut hours and even loss of job if it isn’t fixed fast enough.

But why should we want our hours fixed to work better? Why would we not want to wake up at 3 a.m. or get home at 2 a.m.?

What purpose is there that these places stay open until past midnight, or open so early in the morning? Nobody comes in after 11. Nobody wakes up at 4 and thinks “Hey I want to get some fast food!” I don’t see a soul until at least 5:30-6 when I work mornings. I didn’t see more than one person trying to get food after 10:30-11! But that doesn’t matter, because the greed of those higher than us trumps how late we need to be awake, or how early. No, we need that one extra sale.

So, again, who are we to ask for more wages?

We work in tough, fast-paced conditions that require ample training and practice to do properly. We carry heavy equipment, large boxes and work with chemicals constantly to clean, restock and more, going so far as to use and maneuver with them around other people who are as susceptible to getting harmed as we are. There is constant yelling from both management and customers, regardless of fault and blame being on us or not, and there are many who work there that get treated like dirt the whole time they’re there. On top of it, some of us are in such a position in life that we had to sink ourselves into debt to pay for things as a result of the working conditions and less-than-commendable pay. Sometimes, we even get second jobs in other places doing the same things to make ends meet.

So, why should we be the ones to want higher wages?

More like why shouldn’t we?

Nostalgia: My Mind's Short Interjection

It’s days like these that take me back to a time before the long hours spanning weeks, responsibility coming in droves. The fresh spring-like air, filled with humidity only present when rain falls the night before, brings me back to times of walking the local trails, mom or grandmother in tow as we paced ourselves along the muddy paths.

The ground mushing below my feet as I walked and the sight of pavement pulled another memory from the recesses of my mind, back to that insightful child, so underappreciative of the naivety and freedom that was so truly abundant at one point or another. I can remember my search for puddles on the fast-drying sidewalk in the neighborhood I lived in. Chasing back and forth with the girl I still call my sister to this day on bikes as we splashed the pavement with each wheel connecting to the remains of a once vibrant torrent of water from the sky.

It was freedom. It was fun. An air of childlike enthusiasm and nostalgia beat at the cage I let it rot in, and I couldn’t help but let it breathe once more.

Schedule Plan for the Week and Overtime Talk

Good day to you all! Once again, I am here after a decent break over a long weekend to sort some things out while working my usual shifts at my local NotDonald’s. If there’s one thing that’s always been a bit of a problem whenever I’m working, it’s that I work a bunch, yet can run out of money due to bills, expenses, etc. It’s hard to save money on $8-11 an hour, let alone survive! My next few weeks will actually be packed with lots of overtime that I have to somewhat coerce out of my managers so I can make ends meet when it comes to some upcoming bills, including school and insurance.

I already have a schedule down for what I’m going to try to do without getting too badly reprimanded for such actions: I am scheduled off on weekends and have plenty to do errands-wise, so I’m going to continue my usual sleep schedule of waking up between 4 and 5. However, I’m gonna make it a little more interesting! First thing’s first, waking up a little earlier. If I can jumpstart my day with a cold shower at 3:30, I can be up and ready to go by 4:30. When I do that, I’m heading to work to see if they’d like some help. 9 times out of 10, they do. We have a lot of call-outs due to many reasons, though most are purely out of laziness. I’ll see about working an extra 4-5 hours a day on those days. That’ll get me to at least 44 hours, depending on the weekly schedule.

Secondly, I need to come in a bit earlier, and leave a bit later every day that I work usually! What're 30 more minutes at the beginning and end of a shift? Well, for me, it’s 2 and a half more hours. This, plus potentially heading in for 1-3 hours before classes start on Tuesdays and Thursdays will boost my hours by a whole bunch! In total, I think I should hit 48-52 hours a week. That’s over two days of work right there, and that doesn’t even count my on-and-off second job!

So, you’re probably wondering why I’m writing about this today, huh? I think it’s important to realize that in this line of business, if you want more money, you have to work like crazy, dealing with long hours for your crappy pay. This isn’t a sales job, it’s a 9-5! Well, NotDonald’s is a bit bad when it comes to trying for more hours. They don’t like people on overtime and will do a lot to keep you off of it, despite how many people will call out or no-call-no-show. Labor hours are important, and despite not having help, can easily become problematic if it shows one single person working insanely high hours while the rest sit at 30-35 hours a week.

I know by the end of the next few weeks, I’ll most likely be given a warning or something about my overtime. Honestly, if they do, I’ll probably respond with something like “Increase my wage somewhat substantially and I will stop trying to come in so much!” For the effort, time and dedication I and many others have, we really don’t get paid enough to deal with the workplace and the problems that lie with it. I hope this can shed some light on the system of working many hours and the potential problems that come with it. I will be talking about wages and savings (when possible to save) in my next post. For now, I hope this was a bit entertaining and somewhat informative to read regarding how I schedule my time during my 40-80-hour weeks.

If you enjoyed, or didn’t, please leave a comment in the section below, or the social media site you found this on! If you like my content, please follow me on here or on twitter, and keep checking in for more!

Weekly Recap #1: Health Inspection!

Work this week, like all weeks, has had its good times and its bad times. Starting off this week on Monday, we had a rather large rush, coupled with an order of 50 breakfast burritos, 30 sausage biscuits, and 30 hashbrowns. It’s interesting to note these people ordered this from a mobile order, then came to get it 3 minutes later expecting it to be done, when they said they’d be there around 30 minutes from then. Probably a typo on their part, but it was still unprecedented for them to show such disdain for an order that large.

Wednesday, I ended up sick and couldn’t show up. I would’ve been there 6:30 to 3, but they seemed to get along fine.

Friday was where all the fun happened. I had just gotten to work around 30 minutes early when I learned two of the managers were already there much earlier than anyone else. It was inventory day, and someone in the managerial team lost some of the deposit slips. This was no good, especially considering they were supposed to be playing the boring adult version of a matching card game with these and the receipts that came with.

As Friday continued along at a steady pace, I was placed in several different parts of the store. Mostly, though, I stayed on the second lane’s headset, making drinks and dodging actual customer interaction minus being a voice over a headset. Our headset for lane two is somewhat of a pain in the ass, to say the least. The sound is somewhat garbled and pops in and out at times, and the way you know there is a person at the lane is by the loud “DING DING” at a high enough pitch to almost make dogs whine. I hated this part of lane two in particular, and would not shut up about it for at least three hours as the dinging continued to deafen my right ear. It was a lovely time.

Despite all this, I was soon to get off of lane two after a grueling 6 hours, and I was ecstatic. I would be moved into the realm of customer interaction at the pick-up window, which, besides my lack of contentedness with people, sounded like a godsend compared to listening to the headset ding one more fucking time. I spent a meager 20 minutes in the window before the person in the grill decided it was time to act like she didn’t know what she was doing. She should’ve, as I trained her originally months ago and she had two managers back there, but alas, she did not know shit, my friends.

I hate to be this way most of the time, I really do, but when it takes 6 and a half minutes to get me one cheeseburger and I have to deal with the impatient customer, you bet your ass I wasn’t going to abide by that! I turned to the manager in charge, kindly asked if I could correct the problem we didn’t need to be having, and subsequently did. A good ten minutes went by, we went through a good forty or fifty orders, and I went back up front.

Of course, me being up front wasn’t going to last long either. Knowing all the positions can be a pain sometimes, and this day was definitely testing every bit of my patience with those around me. I was working the front register, one of my favorite positions as it is simple and there are far fewer customers to deal with than drive-thru. As I was enjoying the peaceful life, fully aware I had roughly an hour left, the GM came in the store. On most occasions, my GM is relatively nice, calm and doesn’t try to show any negativity in the workplace if he can help it, but this time was, no doubt, different, for the health inspector was here!

Ah, yes, the health inspector. If there was one image I always kept for health inspectors, it was that one image of the fish one from SpongeBob on the episode with the “Nasty Patty”. Pretty sad, considering they almost killed the man, but what can I do? It just stuck with me! Well, this guy looked nothing like that fish for sure. Mostly because that’s a cartoon fish, and this was a real-life person. He was nice, but he’s relatively strict (which is a good thing no doubt, but a few of the things were a bit ridiculous!). He wandered the store, checking the ins and outs of all the different tables, equipment, and other such things. As this continued, we were busy as hell with a rush that just HAD to be going on at the same time as an inspection. Tables were dirty, floors unswept, towels strewn about in various places for a quick cleaning as the orders continued piling on both on the front counter and in the drive-thru, and times were back up to an all-time high as people waited minutes on end for the most minute orders.

It didn’t take another few minutes before I was being forced back to the grill to accommodate the severe lack of understanding from our dear friend on the sandwich table. It was almost hilarious to me how ridiculous this ended up being within just a forty-minute time period! Well, anyway, the rush died down, we scored lower than usual on the inspection and I went home shortly after.

Saturday and today were wonderfully mundane. Working 5-hour shifts from opening at 4am to 9am is simple, and the only problem is stocking up my area before my spot is overtaken by another person or two, as the usual suspect likes to act like she can’t do anything! I finished early today and was sent home roughly thirty minutes earlier. It was nice, and now I get to sit here and type this bad boy up! I believe that’s about it for my weekly work recap!

I hope you all enjoyed reading this one! If you did, leave a comment somewhere on here or social media where you found this, and subscribe/follow for more on here, Twitter or Facebook! Give a like if you enjoyed wherever you found this too!

Volume 10: A Lesson on Family in the Workplace

Work has always been a place away from it all, in a sense. I did not have my friends there aside from James, and I didn’t have to deal with family there, wherein I had many excuses to duck out of certain gatherings, parties and other such times where I would’ve been stuck in a small place, cramped with 20+ other people who I’ve known forever. It sounds bad, but you clearly haven’t been in a loud Yankee Italian family on a holiday!

When I learned my father had lost another job, I offered a quick solution which I know would work since I had the favor of my managers from how hard of a worker I had been. I told him, “Hey, you could come get a job with me! It’d take like two days and they’ll work with whatever schedule you’d need!” He acknowledged the offer and took it up. I thought it’d be a good idea for him, as they would let him work during the time my little brother was in school, which would give him just enough money to survive coupled with his food stamps. He had been telling me he was down on money for bills anyway.

For the first couple of weeks of him working there, things were good. He picked up on the job quickly, as I always knew he had done in other jobs. Within a week, he knew and could handle the grill area with ease, only getting stressed out on occasion. This would continue from 9am to 2pm every weekday as he would drop off and pick up my brother right before and right after work. This made for an interesting work schedule, as I would show up usually an hour or two later than him and stay far longer than his shift would’ve gone in general. In the time he was there, I normally wouldn’t be sent to the grill or table area, instead, being made to go into one of the customer service areas, such as the drive-thru.

There was something noticeable about his work ethic, though. Something I would’ve caught onto quicker had they let me work more closely with him. He always seemed to be lacking in association with the workplace and those around him. I knew that he wasn’t having a good run of working with one of the ladies back there, as she seemed to dislike him for no reason, and I understood that, but I never seemed to pick up on just how disassociated he was with the place in general.

It didn’t matter much, anyway, as his car broke down roughly three weeks into him working with me. He broke down at work, and was allowed to continue working on the car there instead of getting it towed, as he had no money to his name, and was adamant about getting it done and being able to jump back into work. He spent three weeks on the damn thing before finally resigning himself to the truth that he couldn’t fix it there, and that he would need to get it towed before it was forcefully removed from the property by the owner. By the time his car was removed from the lot, he was no longer an employee there. He could’ve taken the time to work during the week, fixing up the car more on break or getting it towed when he had more money in pocket from a check, but he didn’t. He allowed himself to fall back on the duties of work, and used it as an excuse for losing his job. He ended up trying to come back, but his work ethic had apparently slipped during that time, and he lost the job again anyway.

So why am I writing this post? Well, to be honest, because I was embarrassed. I was embarrassed to have convinced my boss to let my father work there when all he did was end up screwing them over. I ended up apologizing more times for my father not showing up for work, regardless of whether the car was broken down or not. Some days, he just didn’t show up, citing to me that he had slept in accidentally or forgot he worked that day, despite him having a set schedule. It was very, very embarrassing.

Working with family is hard. To a degree, you have this expectation that they will do as good or better than you. Additionally, you cannot help but apologize in their stead for their screw-ups, despite it not being your fault. It’s almost like it’s the obligation of the family. My father’s car was never fixed and was sold off to a random junkyard for scraps. He ended up jobless yet again, and all I could do was continue to apologize for what had happened.

When my boss finally had enough of me apologizing, he finally decided to lay it on me. “It’s not your fault, whether you told me about him applying first or not. I made the decision to hire him, and I know damn well you aren’t him, so it doesn’t affect us.” I remember back in the grocery store I worked at prior to this place, all that would happen is me getting blamed for the faults of my family. My mother worked there before me, and I could not live up to expectations in the eyes of management. My department manager would blame me for my grandmother not showing up or having trouble at work, and I’d get the brunt of it.

While I may have been embarrassed for what had happened with my father, and while I may have apologized in his stead, this person, this place, would never put me in the same boat as him. I worked hard, I did my job to the best of my ability, and that’s all that mattered to the people I worked for. Sometimes, we tend to feel responsible for actions sometimes not our own, ESPECIALLY with family. We allow ourselves to beat ourselves up about these things, and sometimes, we blame ourselves more than we blame those who caused the problems.  We are not responsible for the choices and paths those around us take. We may influence some thoughts toward or away from certain things, but ultimately, it’s their own choices. Working with family can be tough on this front, especially if we were the ones who helped them along to this opportunity, but it needn’t be our fault in any way. Just keep being yourself, and don’t let them get in the way of the you that you are.

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Volume 9: Above and Beyond

If you enjoy this content, be sure to follow me here, on Twitter or on Facebook for more content and updates!

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It’s an odd life when you get yelled at for going above and beyond at work, but I was used to it at this point. Back when I worked at the grocery store before my work at Not-McD, that’s all that ever happened, sadly. I’d offer to stay later, clean more, cook more, make more happen in the store for not just my department, and instead of getting any form of help, respect or even allowance to try doing these things, I’d be berated and shot down for even bringing it up.  So, when this happened at my next job, I wasn’t as surprised as I should’ve been, but I was a bit disappointed.

This was a time when I was relatively new to working there and had just recently been put on night shift. I can’t give an exact time period, but it was somewhere within 2-4 months of me starting there. I wasn’t much for wanting to do grill and the sandwich table thanks to little-Mr.-princess back there, so I convinced one of the managers (whose name I will not disclose, but will call Sadie U., one of the two Sadies that worked there) to allow me to work up front for closing every once in a while. This was one of those nights.

I had a pretty set schedule for how I got things done, and I liked to keep in time with that schedule as good as possible, unless unforeseen events took place, such as a football game nearby letting out early and us getting bombarded with hungry people who were either happy and nice because their team won, or pissy and rude because their team lost. Well, this wasn’t a night for that, and I was actually ahead of schedule for my cleaning and closing duties. Due to this window of opportunity, I decided one thing needed to be done, something I had never seen done before in this store since I started: I was going to pull out all the shelves and cabinets up front and clean under, around and behind them. This is a great idea! I thought to myself. Surely, this will look better, and I can start incorporating this into what I do at night if I have the time! Bad idea, year-and-a-half younger me! I started doing this, and it was going well. I had gotten behind two of the shelves where we had the coffee makers and oatmeal, as well as one of the fridge cabinets up front. As I was moving on, I decided to clean behind our non-descript ice-cream machine that totally isn’t broken half the time. This is when Sadie U. decided to catch on to what I was doing.

She questioned me a moment, asking things such as “What are you doing?” and “Why are you doing this when you have other things you need to do?”. Keep in mind, I have overheard this lady complaining to other employees and to herself about the lack of work that gets done around here. I figured this would take some stress off and would also give me more to do in the slow portions of my night, especially considering I was, as I said before, ahead of schedule. I told her the same as what I just told you. This apparently made her angry! Who would’ve guessed?

I got told, in short, that this was not what I was supposed to be doing, and that, if I continue doing this when I have other work to be done, then we’ll never get out of here on time. The other things I would’ve had to do were mostly things I had to wait until closing time to get done, including shutting down and cleaning the coffee machines we have and cleaning and shutting down the fryer we were still actively using and bringing back all the dishes that go with that. It was stupid of her to say this stuff, honestly. I knew what needed to be done, yet I couldn’t do more? Was she upset that I could be doing more than her or her favorite employees? Was she worried she wouldn’t have anything to complain about? Or, maybe, she was genuinely worried as I was newer and could potentially just be sidetracked? I have no clue, to be honest. She doesn’t work here anymore.

I’m bringing this story up with a lesson for those reading, both managers and employees. Discrediting and berating your (co)workers is not a healthy thing to do in the environment of the workplace. If it wasn’t for the fact that, in all honesty, I disregarded her words, I could’ve easily fallen into the same boat as many other employees, which is that they don’t want to work harder because either the management doesn’t care about them doing harder work, and ultimately aren’t even rewarded with a “good job”, OR they’re made to feel bad for doing more and trying to do better. Both of these causes the same things: Laziness, insubordination and a lack of care for what the manager wants as a result. It is sad to know several employees who have given up caring for their job due to this problem. I was almost there with my grocery store job, and I’m damn lucky to know that management shows regard to me because I’m a good worker now, because I continue to work hard as a result, and they know it. If only they could see that with their other employees sometimes.

In the end, it comes down to a simple thing: Be kind to your (co)workers. These people are the lifeblood of your store, and ultimately affect your time working as much as theirs. If you continue not showing them the respect or praise they deserve and allow this toxicity to spread through the workers that have been there longer, they will continue discrediting their job and causing those around them to do the same. An unhappy work environment is an unhealthy work environment. Show more kindness and respect to your (co)workers and it will do wonders to the workplace!

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Volume 8: The "Princess" of the workplace!

One thing I’ve happened upon in just about any job I’ve worked is that there is always a “princess”. This person, be it male or female, always seems to feel entitled to all the good things in the world when it comes to their job. You must have everything clean and pretty by the time they come in to work, and you must be willing to adhere to what they need before you either switch off with them or leave for the day. At Not-McDonald’s, there is sadly no exception.

In the grill area, coming in at night, there is a man who will arrive and immediately be the bane of most peoples’ existence, who we’ll refer to as “Evan” (I have no reason for this name other than I don’t believe I can use his real name, just like the name of my actual place of work which is so well disguised with the name I use for it). Folks, if you have a princess, you know it. This man is definitely the princess of the workforce. This man is always roughly an hour early to his shift to make sure he can tell whoever’s working grill what they need to do before he starts working. He will hang around, on the clock no less, and wander, drinking or eating whatever he finds in there and finding small things to do that are utterly worthless, yet he does so in order to not be told to get back off the clock or take his position.

I remember the first time truly dealing with his attitude. It was a dark and stormy night, I had just begun final cleaning of the sandwich table, and we were all about to close up. This is where our friend Evan decided it was best to let loose on what hadn’t been done to the newly initiated me. I had been working the table roughly a week, and it was my second time closing it. I was asking questions the whole night to make sure I understood what I was doing, obviously unable to fully remember all the tasks I needed to preform in detail.

“Why have you not gone and counted the remaining inventory for the open boxes in the freezer?”

This was not my job. I knew that, at the very least, and so did the other two co-workers of the night.

“I have no clue what you mean, man. I swear that was grill closer’s job, not mine.” I said, somewhat confused, and asking such a question with no hint of attitude or sarcasm.

“Oh, so now you’re gonna get smart with me when all I’ve been doing is helping you and carrying your slow ass all day,” he began. It was out of nowhere, and I don’t think anyone expected it. I remained mostly quiet at the sudden outburst as he continued his cacophony of tyrannical yelling and jumbled words. He finally began to reach a conclusion when he stopped mid-sentence, got quiet, then stormed outside into the rain. He proceeded to his car, parked in the closest spot in the lot, and chain smoked at least 3 cigarettes before returning. As I wanted no further trouble, I decided that this once I would count the inventory as he continued inhaling the wrapped tobacco and bring it up with the general manager the next time I saw him. This, apparently, was also the wrong thing to do. For when he returned to the building, the scent of smoke along his person, he did not take kindly to this act being done.

“No, man, I was gonna go ahead and get that. It’s not like you were wanting to anyway! I don’t see a need for someone to do it wrong anyway, so I might as well do it myself. Give me that!” He snatched the paper from the counter that already had much of the inventory accounted for. He ripped it down the middle and began to work on counting it himself. Personally, at this point, had I not made it clear to myself that I needed to keep my head cool as to not lose my job within a few weeks of starting, I would’ve clocked this self-satisfied little bitch who thought it was okay to be talking and acting like that. It really didn’t help me, though, that he was so willing to mutter, at just the right volume for me to hear, all about how I wasn’t worth the time he gave for me to be “this worthless” anyway.

This man continues to be this way towards many, new and old to the company, even two years later, as I write this. I still hear stories from newer employees and older ones alike about how he blew up on a manager for asking to break down boxes, whether he was the one who put them there or not, or stories of him causing people to walk out mid-shift due to his sudden outbursts on their inability to do something, whereas he isn’t even in the area half the time to do his own job nowadays.

I think there is one more aspect to being the “princess” of the workplace that seals the deal for their title: They cannot get fired or reprimanded. I wish this part was a joke, as I’ve seen well-to-do people working their asses off and keeping as right as possible in the workplace get hounded for their incomprehension towards certain workplace matters. For this one in particular, I believe it’s because the general manager doesn’t work with him, yet also considers him a friend outside of work. Many times, employees and other managers will complain to the GM about things that this guy will do, and he shrugs it off, often trying his best not to associate the idea to Evan. It’s as if he doesn’t want to believe this about his worker. On top of it, he thinks that Evan is a good worker who follows through on everything possible when that couldn’t be further from the truth. I can spend, many times, hours of my shift doing both his work and my own, as he slacks off, goes to smoke or just disappears altogether. I can only hope that one day the GM will recognize the problems with his friend/worker and either reprimand him or just get rid of him. It’s too much trouble to our managers and coworkers to deal with such behavior, and so much more from him.

So, let’s get a Tl;Dr in here for at least somewhat of a summary.

A “Princess” in the workplace is someone who:

A.    Feels entitled to having everything done for them before, during and after their shift. This includes cleaning, stocking and full accommodations to his position.

B.     Constantly verbally abuses and pushes around coworkers, going so far as to demean them if they do not do what they want, or go further as to yell in their face and potentially cause physical contact or obstruction to their workplace, or their self.

C.     Has a form of “diplomatic immunity” that keeps them from getting in trouble for their actions, whether it be shirking their duties or causing problems to others or for others in the work environment.

D.    Recognizes their power over authority to allow them to continue acting this way, whereas they never truly change.

Managers, if you have a person like this, you need to address this problem-person. It is not healthy for your workers and fellow managers to deal with such atrocious behaviors.

Workers, if things get too tough and nothing is getting done, do not be afraid to go to Human Resources, the main District Manager or office, or even further if necessary. These things should not be done to you by fellow workers, as you are just as able and worthwhile, if not far more.

I hope you all enjoyed reading this, and possibly helped to discern a problem-child in your workplace. If you like this content or content of the like, please follow me on here, on Twitter or on my Facebook page! Thank you very much for taking the time to read this. Leave a comment on here or on one of the pages if you enjoyed, have any suggestions or have any criticisms to make. I appreciate your time!

Vol. 7: Vibes in the Workplace, and Diffusing Negativity Overall

What vibes do you get when you work super early or super late?

Weekends, for the past few weeks, have been all about waking up early, dragging myself off the couch or bed (depending on where I decided to sleep that night) and dredging my way along the darkened road to arrive at, and relinquish the time I could’ve had to freely write or sleep, to instead, work. I, for no reason have ever wanted to wake up at 3 a.m. or earlier to be at work. I’ve already had my run of overnight working when I stocked shelves in one of my prior grocery store positions, and heading to work at the approximate time I would’ve been taking a break in that job has never filled me with any feelings of joy when heading through the empty streets of my town.

The past couple weeks in particular, however, have been a bit different. I know my time is soon to be coming to an end opening the store, yet I’ve noticed something interesting about my habits lately regarding it: I go to work and act scarily happy. Yes, I am tired when I arrive at this place with little-to-no coffee in my system, having to cook or deal with the early rising customers, but I haven’t been acting the way I normally would when really tired like I have been. Instead, I have been as talkative as can be, cracking jokes and engaging in conversation with the other employees, which, despite us all being tired, has livened the mood a bit at the grueling hour of 4 a.m.

We have a good few employees, ranging from anywhere between 20 and 40 depending on recent turnover, kids going back to school, people working less hours or people just quitting in general or (in the rarest of cases) getting fired. Though the number frequently changes, and many new faces arrive, there are always core people that have been here at least since I’ve started working there. It’s always refreshing to see these faces, especially considering the amount of new people. I don’t harbor much in the way of negativity to anyone working in the store, though some people DO piss me off occasionally by way of not working or acting like a certain “princess” of the store (more on that one later). Mostly, though, the people here are a big “Non-McFamily”, engaging in constant fun and well received conversation, with people only getting out of hand once in a while. The people on morning shift, whom I regularly deal with, have a good bit of drama between them. Some are politically polar opposites and know it, while others have the whole “She thinks she’s better than me and I hate it” problems going on. These problems usually lead to the most fun you could have, but recently has been somewhat defused by the new routine of talking with one another at the start of the day instead of after an hour or two of little conversation.

I personally think that us all talking so early has been a really positive change altogether. With the newly found basis of the morning, when we all can sit there and have fun and enjoy each other’s company, we seem to have a dramatic shift in emotional energy throughout the store for the remainder of the day, as though we have shifted things in our favor. Most often, now, we all end the first hour on a high note and don’t taper off from the positive vibes until we begin to leave for the day, leaving whoever stays for mid- and second-shift to have their own vibes.

So, what am I trying to get at in all this? Well, I think I’m just trying to say that with positive emotion as the starting point for everyone’s day, no matter how early, things can remain in positive motion for the residuum of the day. Keep that in mind as you continue to be around people in your work environment, especially if said environment can get to busy, stress-filled levels like a fast food place can. If we can do it working in one of the busiest fast food restaurants in town at god-awful hours of the morning, then you guys can too!

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I hope you all enjoyed and found this humorous/incightful/etc. and will continue to read on throughout my time blogging!

Vol. 6: So, Who am I?

So, if you decided you wanted to tag along with me on this journey, whether you have found this today, or weeks, months or years after I’ve written it, then you should know who I am.

I am Nick. I have lived in the same town basically all my life, enjoying the niceties of a small town with nothing for a kid/teen/young adult to do but get pregnant and do drugs. I wasn’t one of the kids who ended up doing either, really. It’s honestly quite surprising, considering most of who I knew ended up finding their spirit animal on crack-infused peyote or ended up strung out in a trap house up in the projects of a nearby city. Yet, somehow, the older people here in this mess of a retirement community idle on by, pretending not to notice, and still remaining entitled assholes to their death beds. May whatever god(s) they believe in have mercy on their souls when they go.

While I grew up here, all my family is from the north. They all ended up here one way or another, and funny enough, my mom and dad ended up down here close to the same time from completely different areas up north; my mom being from New York, while my dad came from Baltimore, Maryland. I ended up being here as “the happy little accident that could” and was mostly raised by my mother, with the help of some family and friends along the way; notably a man named Jason, my grandmother on my dad’s side and my collective of aunts and uncles from both sides of the family. While the majority of those weren’t there for us much in the early years, I have definitely been assisted by all of them at one point or another for small or large things.

From the time I was about 3-4 years old, my mother worked in a grocery store that isn’t known as “Ingles Markets”. This “Not-Ingles”, as we’ll call it (original, I know) was basically my other home for the majority of my life, up until I was 16, when I started working there, and it became my other home and my least desired place to be. Grocery stores are boring, let me tell you, but there is A LOT of drama and bullshit that goes on in them for how tiny and honestly insignificant they are. This wasn’t helpful when finding myself being discriminated in school for being the short, scrawny white kid with the long hair, and it damn sure didn’t help with the free time I grossly underappreciated as a kid where I sat in my room with Doritos and Halo 3.

Well, anyway, I worked there for about two years, left there to work at a pub on the town’s main street, and proceeded to leave there to go back to another “Not-Ingles” to do overnight stocking. Lo and behold, I had to transfer out of there to continue school and be on a normal sleep schedule, and found myself right back at the store I started working at when I was 16. Clearly, this was the worst thing that could’ve happened to me, yet also an amazing thing, as I knew most of the people there still. Well, after a whole bunch of bullshit that I’ll eventually get to in a future entry or three, and the lovely relationship with my friend, I ended up at my little Not-McDonald’s and found myself in what is easily the best company/main job I’ve ever had.

So that, in the smallest sense, is me. I’m some 20-something year old guy with not the best social life from school to now, where I work at both my Not-McDonald’s and my friend’s small company while also going to school full time. I look pretty average and I’ve hated basically all my jobs up to this one, and this one is DEFINITELY no peach with the way things go. I’ve found myself wanting to write for a long time because, frankly, I’ve been told I have a knack for it, yet I cannot sit still long enough to make an entire novel out of my stories, so I’ll continue blogging as a result until I stop acting lazy. I hope this gives insight into who I am a little bit. I’ll give more info through context clues and future posts. I hope you’ll stay tuned to find out!

Well, that’s about all I’ve got for you right now. I am truly grateful you read this little thing I wrote, and I’ll be sure to keep handing out more content as time goes on. If you want to keep enjoying this, follow me on here or on Twitter. I’ll be sure to keep posting unless something happens to cause that not to be the case.

Vol. 5: Opening Shift and the Customers Who Come With

Waking up at three in the morning to open the store is probably my least favorite memory of working in fast food, and I still do it every weekend.

I’ve recently changed my sleep schedule from waking up at nine or ten in the morning to waking up as early as four every day of the week. I do it in an effort to make changes in my life that will positively benefit me, such as writing this passage. I’ve never been an early riser of my own accord until these past few weeks, and it honestly has been wonderful. What is still not wonderful, funny enough, is waking up to go to work an hour earlier. Every morning that I am forced to dredge my way out of bed, hair a mess and an alarm beeping in my right ear, I hate every second of it.

Mornings working at Not-McDonalds are not particularly hard, especially when you are placed in the same area as usual, conditioned to know every aspect of the ritual of opening and taking care of business on that front. Customers don’t start wildly banging on the doors to let them get their Egg McMuffin and coffee until roughly seven, so there’s a three-hour time window once you begin your day to drown yourself in caffeine and prep for the inevitable rush of people that will not stop except for a brief moment at about two in the afternoon. Once you’ve gotten the hang of dealing with such motions as the business and waking up in general, this job becomes extremely simplistic. Keep busy, don’t falter; that’s basically the mantra I tell myself regularly. That, and “don’t fuck up”; a phrase an old boss I had told me as I started out in line cooking for a bit back when I was about to turn 18.

People are animals when it comes to fast food. As mentioned before, I have dealt with some nasty, rude, unintelligible people that shouldn’t have crawled out of bed to begin with, let alone interacted with people. Whatever hole they find themselves living in under their rock that saves them from understanding modern social norms and niceties should be a fitting place for them to stay, rather than go out and find themselves bothering people that are just trying to work at not only these early hours, but all day.

Anecdote time: One morning, while I was off, I went to my job to grab a bite to eat. I sat at the seats in front of where the counter was, and I enjoyed the people watching that I could before getting too fed up and nearly blowing up on one, or a few customers. The person running the register was a nineteen-year-old girl who was just using this job as a way to help pay for college. She was smart, and would be very kind to just about anyone, no matter the problems. There was one thing that was enough to set off a few of the older crowd: She had blue hair. While I sat, watching as people, nice and rude alike, walked through, got their food and either left or sat down, one man came in with his three kids.

He and his kids all sported some luxury brand clothing, and he acted as though those around him meant relatively nothing to him or his kids, not acknowledging “excuse me” or “sorry” from people trying to make their way through the lobby to get around. They would not even move for them whatsoever. When he approached the front counter, he started his order by, no shit, saying “Let me say this slowly enough so you can understand, ok?” I was taken aback, but this girl just sat there, smile on her face, though she obviously showed she was annoyed through her eyes and tone. He proceeded to order, snapped at her (literally) to get his cups, then proceeded to the drink station, which I sat nearer to than the front counter. As he passed, one of his kids asked, “Why did she have blue hair?” to which he responded, “It’s someone from Not-McDonald’s, don’t pay any mind to her or her kind. She’s not worth thinking about.”

I really, truly, wish I was making this up, but I’m not. I watched this man treat everyone with disrespect and then berate this girl when she’s done nothing, only to turn around and act like this girl is less of a person because she works at this store. The worst part about this, though, is that I have seen more than just this man treat people with the same amount of disrespect through the drive-thru window and front counter. This is practically a norm, albeit, on the more intense side for this man.

Tiringly, you get used to a norm of emotional abuse from customers, and many I know can attest to that. We get to a point where we just accept it as how it is, and honestly, this should not be promoted. We slave over hot grills and fryers and sit in drive-thru windows while it rains, snows and freezes outside, and the thanks we get is rudeness from people who can’t help themselves but be rude, let alone say a thank you once in a while.

To get back on track with morning shift, specifically, we get the main bulk of rude customers. We endure those early risers that don’t speak unless suddenly provoked by not understanding their slurred morning speech through the microphone, and we get the customers like King Grape Jelly from my first post, as well as the entitled asshole and his three entitled little pigs that will sadly probably grow up as copies of him. To bring back some positivity, however, the mornings give some of the nicest people too. Those who get a look of joy when they see their food or caffeine coming toward them, who engage in conversation with the employees to give them a small moment of solace from the droves of other customers waiting to find a reason to yell at you. The morning brings a sense of familiarity with those wonderful people, where you know all their names, and what goes on in their life. You feel like this is someone who cares about being the best they can be, and if they complain, they act as nice as possible about it, and will only do so if there is true reason to do so.

To be honest, morning shift, although early, and sometimes pretty daunting as you get hit with wave after wave of zombified assholes that wish to do nothing but feed on your goodwill to fuel their disdain, is a good shift. You can meet the kindest of people (once you’re all awake, at least) and can truly find some fun and good times, even when busy. And quite honestly, it is about 1,000,000 times better than closing shift… But that’s for next post.

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Vol. 4: Coworkers!

Co-workers are an interesting bunch. People who you spend up to one half of your waking week with, sharing in the atmosphere of a single store, office, etc. for hours on end each day. These people make or break your overall experience in the workplace and can truly give some memorable moments to look back on as you either continue working there, or move on to another job, company, or even retire or move farther up the corporate ladder.

I can still remember, in fact, one guy who worked with me while I was stocking shelves overnight at a grocery store: Dallas. This guy was the picture-perfect ideation of a redneck. He wore camo, rode in a big truck and talked with the thickest southern accent. To top it off, he wanted to join the army to become a demolitions expert. This guy would come into work late, exclaiming loudly that he had arrived any time he’d walk through the back doors, and would proceed to talk about his girlfriend for the following thirty minutes as we unloaded the truck. She was obviously cheating on him, but he wouldn’t have any of it when we tried to explain it to him. Despite his amorous feelings towards this woman, there was one thing that set him apart from her: He had a stalking charge from his previous job.

Now, I can go on for hours just about the stories I have of this dude, but I’d rather keep him in mind for future examples, so be prepared to hear about him a lot. To get back on topic of co-workers in general, people like our friend, Dallas, here, can add to the monotony of the workplace by giving interesting moments and conversations, drowning out dull times and bad days alike. However, there are another breed of co-workers on the opposite end of the spectrum.

In my little Not-McDonald’s, there are plenty of different co-workers, ranging all over the spectrum of “horse-shit” to “pretty dandy”. The ones on the lower end tend to have at least two of these traits:

a.       They think they are the bee’s knees, no matter how infuriatingly terrible they are at their job.

b.      They openly, or secretively bad mouth just about everyone in the store, whether on factual information or baseless stories and ideas on the person/people of interest to them.

c.       They don’t work. At all.

d.      They are self-entitled little shits who think that, no matter what they do, they will not end up in trouble. This one particularly is a major concern in Not-McDonald’s, as there is a lot of steps normally needed to get someone heavily reprimanded, no less fired.

These traits make up the common symptoms of a good third of the employees in a workplace. Maybe even half, depending on crew size, people in charge, etc.

Now the other end of the spectrum is a rarer portion, to be sure. These can almost be considered friends, and will continue to work hard while managing to still be entertaining and fun to be around. These people will often work synergistically with you and those around them, keeping a fast and overall well-defined pace throughout the day. I can think of three people in my work place that truly nail this end of the spectrum to a tee, and one of them happens to be my General Manager. He, as well as the other two co-workers, seem to know exactly how to do what they need to do, and how to do it well. If we were able to all work in tandem, I have no doubt we alone could run the store and almost never have a sense of falling behind.

Therein, however, lies those in between the two major ends of the spectrum. A vast no-man’s land of workers drifting the lines of good and bad, excellent in some areas, while lacking in others. Though they can, on occasion, reach the synergistic levels needed to keep things running smoothly, most of the time, there is a sense of falling flat in the workplace. This will keep times up on the counters while attempting to continue being recognized as “fast food”. These people can come in and brighten your day at times, while at other intervals get on your nerves to no end. Additionally, these types will fall into a category where their existence doesn’t matter to those working around them. Some co-workers I have, I’ve never spoken more than three sentences to.

Everyone falls into this category at some point, through a bad day or just not holding up to the environment that you work in. While it may seem that I am bashing the majority, keep in mind I fall into this category at times as well, and will continue to do so in certain cases. I cannot run a drive-thru as well as I can command the sandwich table or grill, and I cannot close as well as I open. We all have areas we falter in the working spectrum and our overall personality to those around us. While some may find me to be on their high end of the spectrum, others may see me as a bane to their working lives, feeling utter disdain when they see me walk into the store.

The best way that I’ve seen myself deal with those I don’t like when working, or feel don’t work as well in their positions, or in tandem with me, is trying to find a way to work around the negatives, and see where we can connect better to maximize efficiency. If I don’t like them, I keep in mind the thought that I will only be seeing them until they or I get off work that day. It makes no difference to me outside of work. My work problems stay my work problems as my home problems stay my home problems. There is no need to worry about the problems I have with people, or people have with me unless they get to a point that it is causing difficulties overall.

To sum up the total of this post, I’ll say these next few lines.

Co-workers are an interesting bunch to deal with on a daily basis. They range from being close friends in this little working world to being absolute nightmares, and this can cause both positive outcomes to your overall work experience or negative ones. Always remember that the different ways you can see co-workers are the exact same ways that they see you. The best thing to do is remember to leave your problems from outside work at the door as you enter, and leave all your work problems at the door as you leave. If things get to a point that action is needed against workers, as they either are a major detriment to the entirety of the job, or are continually attempting to cause you many problems, please remember that there are Human Resources firms if needed in most workplaces, and at the very least talk to your management about the problems occurring.

If you liked this post, please follow me here for more content of the like. I have many stories I’ll be getting to soon, and I think they’ll be very entertaining to some of you. Thank you for reading!

Vol. 3: The Effects of Journaling When Stressed

Throughout the past few months, regardless of times I woke up, times I went to sleep and what I’d do in the day either healthily or unhealthily, I have had one constant: Journaling. Before my reintroduction to journaling by a youtube video on Bullet Journaling, I would usually keep all my thoughts and feelings to myself, dealing with stress, anxiety and any other conglomeration of emotions I had throughout my day of working, school or otherwise on my own. This was particularly bad when it came to work, which is why I am writing this post today.

Working in fast food, if you don’t know, is stressful beyond belief. Between the mix of drama from co-workers, the hundreds of customers and the strange scheduling that either has you coming in at 4 a.m. and staying all day or 5 p.m. and staying midnight or later, things tend to stack up, making life inside and outside of work a little more nerve-wracking. There are many ways to deal with this stress; I would usually liberate my tired mind of its excessive amounts of stress by either not sleeping at all and playing video games, smoking pot like some teenage stoner or holding it all in until I blew up on someone in a fit of rage, sadness or some other extreme emotion. Despite my continuance of these things to deal with the problems stemming from work and other areas of tension, I knew I needed a change for the better or I would crash and burn.

While perusing the internet for some kind of treasure in the form of stress relief, I found several options that I felt may suit me. Meditation was one of them; ten minutes of closed eyes and focus solely on my breathing Another was sleeping well, which was difficult without something like melatonin to keep me knocked out when I would flare up with insomniac episodes every couple weeks. Finally, I found what I was looking for that I felt fit me like a glove: Journaling. My family has always been big on journaling, and when I was little, I would journal a lot. In fact, I still have my most embarrassing hits in some 10+ year old journals sitting in my closet, buried under a mountain of boxes.

I started by looking for tutorials on how to properly journal for stress relief. These usually fell into the “youtube video” category of my searching, and were usually coupled with yoga and vegan diets galore. I ended up trying a few different methods out to see what suited me. Mostly, I ended up falling back to just writing about my day at the end of each night. A good start, honestly. At least I could keep pen to paper regularly again. I would go on and on about the many aspects of work life, dealing with my cute-yet-troublesome little brother and my father on a regular basis and trying to find quiet in my busy life. This became like solace to me. My own headspace was flowing onto the page like it was nothing, and by the time I was finished for the night, I would feel free of the stress the day had brought on prior.

This began to affect other aspects of my life. I started keeping up with what I was doing throughout the day, marking my mental routine I seemed to follow, and also began to follow my health and dietary life. I would mark things like what food I’d get on my free meal at work and what I would eat outside of work. All of it was rather unhealthy, so I started to diet, opting for the side salads with some grilled chicken instead of three cheeseburgers a day. I began to sleep better after relaxing with a pen and paper, and coworkers began to notice a difference in my mood. I did not feel fully satisfied with my work journaling, however. I felt I needed a bit more structure to my life and would need to crack down on that. Several vegan-salad-yoga-journal videos later, and I had my solution: Bullet Journaling.

Bullet journaling was a slightly different form of journaling whereas you would use a journal with dots lining the page rather than lines. This would give you more creative freedom with the overall looks of the pages you write on, as well as allowing for lines to be drawn more easily to adapt to starting to write daily and weekly schedules. I would make little graphs with lines to show what time I had to be doing whatever was in that block. 4-2? Work. 3-4? Laundry. See what I mean? This would get me writing a little more at night, clarifying exactly what I would be doing, and keeping to the schedule as strictly as possible, with room for exceptions and unforeseen consequences, such as traffic.

This type of journaling has tremendously helped me in a variety of ways. I can draw more freely in this journal, giving me more time and room to be more creative and inhibit that side of my brain. While doing that, I could also write down schedules for myself for the day/week, as well as still have room to get my thoughts and feelings onto paper. I recommend this type of journaling, and journaling in general, to help you in your daily life. The life of working, not just in fast food, as well as school and other stuff that life throws at you can be incredibly strenuous, and sometimes you need to work on you, even if it’s just a few sentences on paper to get your mind off things.

I hope you enjoyed reading. This post is not entirely about fast food, but this is part of my journey in fast food, as well as life itself. I urge you to find something to help you keep going without the baggage you carry with you. All too often, we allow these negativities to seep out onto others as well as other aspects of our lives. Be grateful for what you have, and continue to protect that which makes you happy by not letting the bad harm it or you in any more ways than you can allow.

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Vol. 2 / PSA: Credit Where Credit's Due

Although I am inclined to talk of the negativities regarding the idea of working fast food, I would rather keep it from being all bad. The realm of fast food can be daunting, and sometimes people cannot seem to wrap their head around how much turns out bad. However, one positive affirmation I can give is that the managers, for the most part, are some of the best people you can deal with.

Here in the lovely land of not-McDonald’s that I left us in last time, we have about nine managers at the moment. I am on track to becoming one of the next two, and hopefully will be able to ascend the position fast due to my previous managerial experience. Though there are several managers in this store, only three matter. The General Manager, and his two subordinates known as the true Assistant Managers of the store. Those three are such a godsend compared to the tired, begrudgingly working managers that precede them in rank. As I mentioned in my previous post, I was hired on at record speed. That was thanks to two of the “Big Three” as I’ll call them. The GM was friends with my soon-to-be coworker and current friend, James. When James turned around to ask him if I could come aboard the N-McD ship, this manager immediately set up a time THAT DAY to meet me and give me an interview. I was ecstatic to know that it could be that soon, especially after my encounter, moments before asking James about the job, with the Anti-Christ of a boss I had at the grocery store. Ever grateful, I agreed to the time, and was there ten minutes early to show my eagerness to begin.

Fast forward two days to my first day on the job. Yes, the same one I had also spoken about in the previous post. (link to that right HERE). This is where I would meet the second-in-charge. This lady was on the larger side and spoke with a loud and somewhat threatening voice; at least, at first it seemed that way. Within minutes of talking with her and truly getting to know this boss, I had already been well enough acquainted to joke around, enjoy decently long conversation for what was presented in a fast-paced environment and truly found myself with a homelier vibe, as she reminded me of one of my favorite aunts in her overall demeanor.

These two people alone contradicted everything I had heard of working at fast food prior to actually doing it. Everywhere online, all I’d see was how the management didn’t seem to care about their employees and how they would be rude and downright nasty to their workers for simple tasks. I’m about to debunk that for everyone, right here, right now. And some of this will be bolded to help you understand my main focus here.

Managers in fast food care greatly for the workers they have. ESPECIALLY those who actually get to work and keep at work when needed. These little teenagers and early twenty-somethings all seem to wrap their head around their entitlement way too much, and cause trouble for the idea of a decent system of management in stores such as my very own Not-McDonald’s both in the store, and online with social media. Within such a place lie some of the nicest people I’ve had the pleasure to work under, and those same people will work just as hard as their workers if need be, not to prove a point, but to help and guide those who are new or not doing so good. I have watched these same people console those around them who are having a rough time, and these people will also adhere to policy if there is ever trouble with sickness or mental/emotional health problems within their little fast food community.

The true problem lies within the people who work. There is a certain idea that goes around in a workplace that needs more credit, understanding and reciprocation. IF YOU CAN DO YOUR JOB, AND KEEP AT IT AS GOOD AS POSSIBLE, YOU WILL BE GIVEN THE BEST TREATMENT POSSIBLE. HOWEVER, IF YOU REPEATEDLY SHIRK YOUR DUTIES AND CAUSE PROBLEMS FOR YOUR MANAGERS AND CO-WORKERS, YOU WILL GET THE SAME TREATMENT BACK. Do you get what I mean? I hope you do. There is a stigma in social media and in person that the managers and co-workers in a workplace, especially fast food, are rude and unyielding in threats, rude comments and bad behavior to the people ranting about it. This stigma needs to be discredited, as those who are complaining about this are the ones who are starting drama, disregarding their duties and causing problems for nearly the whole of the workforce in the place they are working.

Now do not get me wrong, there can be truly bad managers, who either cannot be complacent in their own jobs, are very big-headed and think their word is law, and there are some who just are assholes in general. HOWEVER, do not mistake the few for the many. These people work hard, strive for the best of their abilities and care for everyone there as best they can, both as workers and as the people that drive their working selves. I apologize how this became a rant instead of just a story, but people need to understand this, as I see these good people get discredited many a time, and it is not right.

This post is basically done now. I will get back to some funny stories next time, but I wanted to get this out there. There are many positives in this line of work, and I have many good stories to tell on that notion. Do not discredit those who do not deserve it. I love my work, despite its annoyances, and I cannot understand the depth of hatred in such places that have given so much time and effort to help those who work there, even in the face of hundreds of customers an hour. Guess this was kinda a PSA, eh? Don’t worry though, this won’t always happen!

Please follow me here on this blog for more stories and funny happenings in my line of work here in fast food. I appreciate you reading and hope you have a great day/night/whatever.

Volume 1: An Intro to my Time as a Fast Food Employee

When I first started in fast food, I was already 20 years old. Never before had I been so rudely awakened to the extremities of customer service til then. I had worked in grocery stores and had ultimately put up with some obvious problem-people, such as the rich old fucks that had no proper discernment between nice and rude, whereas everything they said ultimately ended up in the latter category, as well as some stupid teens or coworkers that could not pride themselves more than to be idiots and try to do things that’d obviously end with them either in trouble, or free to go, with no indication that they wouldn’t do whatever they did again.

Though the ultimate annoyance of my life always ended up coming back to customer service, and people in general, my time with grocery stores had ended abruptly, and one of my best friends, James had offered me to go work with him at the local fast food joint that is obviously not McDonald’s. This was a godsend at the time, as I really needed a new job after delightfully telling my old manager to “stick it up his ass” in a much nicer vernacular. Besides, I was getting my real estate license soon enough (or so I would believe) and I didn’t feel it would hurt to work in such an environment. I got the job rather quickly, and started within three days of applying. Record time, though I didn’t realize how little they cared about such things as “background checks” and “drug tests”. Lucky me, I might’ve neglected to tell them I smoked a bowl or two of the Mary-ju-wannas (I do not condone such criminal actions in non-legal states BTW) after my intense… discussion(?) with my now former manager.

Anyways, I was hired on oh so lovingly, and immediately put to a register, as they didn’t know of my kitchen/cooking/etc. experience in the fields I worked prior to this. The most they really knew was that my last boss was a fucker, and I knew customer service like a boss, despite my utter disdain for the totality of it. The register was obviously different from any regular grocery store, as the whole thing was touch screen and picture-based as if you needed to scream “hey, we hire illiterate 14-year-olds!” at the top of your lungs. This wasn’t too bad, especially since there was apparently no such thing as formal training for the different areas, and all of it seemed a test to see if I wouldn’t snap under pressure of dealing with assholes for my inability to properly navigate these new menus.

I survived the first day, but not without making a point to tell them of all the things I could do besides dealing with asshats such as the ones I had been so graciously set up to meet like some kind of nightmare blind-speed-dating service. During this particular day was the first I would meet of a man who could hold a grudge for the next two years as if he wasn’t about to be put in a retirement home by his kids who fucking hate him like I do. This man would order the same thing every day, I’ve been told. A sausage biscuit with two GRAPE jellies on the side, and a black coffee. Now, this man did not specify the grape part to me, as I apparently should’ve known what he wanted telepathically, or as though those around me would tell me the “King of Grape-Jelly-Assholeland” was here to get his happy order. So, as you can imagine, this man was not pleased when I handed him the only jelly I could find: Strawberry.

Dealing with customers at a grocery store can prove simplistic, and if you mess up their order in a place like the deli, where I finished my career there at, they will usually tell you without getting too upset, will ultimately make some snide remarks, and leave with their fixed order like it’s not a big deal, which it isn’t. This man turned red within seconds of seeing that pink packet lying on the tray he had been handed. “WHAT. IS. THIS?!” He turned to me, looking as though he had been picked from a tomato plant fresh as can be. “How are you EVEN ALLOWED TO WORK HERE WHEN YOU CAN’T EVEN FOLLOW A BASIC THING I ASKED FOR?!” He spouted out these words as though a faucet had accidentally been turned all the way on in his dry, wrinkled mouth. He threw the jelly on the table, jerked his biscuit and coffee off the counter, spilling the coffee all across it and the floor nearby, and stormed out....

…I died laughing the minute he left the side door to this Not-McDonald’s. How could one person be so stupid to overreact to a tube of jelly he didn’t even pay for? I still wonder to this day, despite seeing others act the same way over similar things. Now, any time he would come back to the store, and I’d work the register, he would make a deal to say “grape” at least twice to me each time he ordered, as well as mentioning how I “shouldn’t screw it up like last time,” despite it being months, now over a year and a half since then.

Now, this is just an extremely tiny tidbit into the life I had led as a fast food employee, and I hope you will follow along for more content of the like. This is the journey of my time through retail and customer service, and I hope you enjoy every minute of it.