For most people, summer is about BBQ’s, holidays and topping up tans. But for me, it’s about working and getting my shit together while I take a break from uni. Fun, right?
While this seemed like a good idea at the time, somehow I still haven’t saved a penny and I am closer to eternal misery than I have ever been. Working in the fast food industry has proved to be pretty difficult, and if I’m being 100% honest, I suck at it.
But, why? Well, here’s a list that (hopefully) won’t get me into trouble:
- I am the human definition of ‘clutz.’
Well, I just Googled the definition of ‘clutz’ and it says they’re losers. I’m just going to ignore that part. I’m too clumsy to be trusted near anything hot, which isn’t too handy when you work in a place people go to for food. I am covered in burns from coffee, oil and various racks. Give it a year and I’ll resemble Deadpool.
I’m also very good at spilling things. The first time the big boss of the local restaurants came in, I threw Strawberry Lemonade down myself. Even my bra was soaked through. I still don’t know how I wasn’t fired, though the number of hours I did changed dramatically for a few weeks afterwards.
2. I am too short.
Okay, this one applies to lots of people. I have to use a stool to refill coffee beans, stock shelves and find anything in the stock room. Add a ladder to my ability to trip over nothing, and you’ve got a midget dropping coffee beans down her top. Not a pretty sight.
3. My social awkwardness.
For some reason when a customer says ‘Thank you.’ my brain thinks ‘Same’ is an appropriate response. Same? Same what? Who knows? Not me.
There’s also the time I took food to a car outside and said ‘Sorry for the food. Enjoy the wait.’ But I don’t like to talk about that.
4. My honesty.
Okay, so I work at this place. I’m meant to enthusiastic about everything on the menu. Sometimes the manager even makes me try to up-sell stuff. The other day it was flatbread. I asked this lovely old couple whether they wanted to try a flatbread. I already knew they’d say no, but I tried.
So when they declined I simply said ‘Okie dokie, fair enough.’ When the man asked whether suggesting the flatbread to anybody had actually worked. I replied with ‘Surprisingly, yes.’ The couple laughed for a while, and I stood politely blinking at them. (Not that you can rudely blink? Is that a thing?) The lady eventually explained that they just thought it was funny that I said ‘surprisingly.’ I said ‘But it is surprising.’ and they walked off, still giggling. I’m still unsure why.
I like kids… that can’t walk or talk yet. But once they hit the age of seven, I become terrified of them. Especially the ones you encounter working in fast food. It’s one thing adults judging and criticising your job, but you know you’ve hit a low point when chubby kids do it too. I’m quite a peaceful person, but even I want to tell them to shut up and eat their burger instead of crippling my self esteem, damn goblins.
There are plenty of other reasons why I’m terrible at my job, but listing them would take all night. So I’ll leave it there.
Until next time folks.