Pies, Fries, and Free Fall Dives

[imood mood at time of entry: lackadaisical]

It has been forever since I could come and update here. I have been working non stop at a job that I can’t stand, with people I’d like to shove fries up their nostrils.

I have been assembling burgers for more than a month now, and I still have not gotten the two-week pay raise I was promised when I applied for the job. I am sick and tired of the false promises, and the long hours without a lot of breaks.

At first, things were rough, then they were OK. Now, the job is almost unbearable. I have spent the majority of my time there in silence. I have been questioned by numerous people why I don’t chat like the other sandwich prep ladies do. Well, no one in the back speaks English. You can imagine how happy I was to find two people that speak English. I finally got the chance to chat a bit during a short break in the customer stream, and I get yelled at by this bitchy manager. I have had it with her.

The very first day that I met her, she threatened to fire me. I hadn’t even done anything wrong. She goes around threatening people’s jobs, and yelling at us to make the food faster, even though we work damned hard for very little pay. I put all the effort I possess into this job, and all she ever does is bitch. She has this whole power trip going on.

I understand that there will always be someone like this at every job that I go to, unless I work for myself, but she could at least help us like it says to in the company manual, and the way the other managers do. When the other managers see that a ton of orders has come in, they jump on the tables, and make some burgers, not yell at us, and not even attempt to help us out. She thinks that just because she is wearing a “Management” shirt that she can do or say whatever she wants. Well sorry babe, it doesn’t work that way. Hell, even the owners mop the floors and make french fries.

So, I’ve been doing my Wonder Babe routinue, slinging fries, and baking pies, and making a gazillion McDonald’s burgers that are “Hot. Fresh. Just For You,”, as it says on the red stickers we must use to attach a paper printout on special orders. I have been doing all the work of the prep ladies, and the stock boys. I have made so much food that I could could throw up from thinking about it all. When I first smelled the cooked meat, I thought I was going to throw up then, and I’ve been fighting back the urge to heave ever since then. It’s something about the smell of meat (cooked and uncooked) that sets me off.

My money saving efforts have not been going well, being the shopping addict that I am. I have less than $9 to my name. My last check was barely over $100, and I bought a few pricey things over the weekend. I hope that I get a handle on myself because I need that money for school.

I appreciate the “jumping in with both feet” method, but throwing people, who’ve never done fast food work before, into an intense and hectic environment, while screaming at them, is like pushing someone out of an airplane without their parachute. Sure, there are training videos, but that can only do so much. Sometimes, a person (and their body) needs time to adjust.

Anyway, I need to look up insurance companies, and the Ben Taub website because my insurance expired last week, and I can’t go to the doctor otherwise. This is horrible for me because just yesterday (Wednesday, July 7, 2004), I was so ill that I could not get out of bed, and when I did, I may as well have been climbing a mountain while carrying a yak.

Danielle