(no subject)
Well, I survived my first day at work.
I got there a couple of minutes before ten yesterday morning, turned in some tax stuff, got assigned a locker, and shown how to use the time clock. Then I got taken to the managers' office to begin "training." Training apparently means "the reading and viewing of intellectually insulting and absurdly cheesy documents and videos, the contents of which one should already know from reading the employee handbook. Further, any new material covered in said videos and print media may fall outside of the realm of common sense for beings with IQs lower than mentally deficient hamsters."
Thankfully, after only about ten minutes of that, the assistant manager had to use the computer (the only one in the entire store), so I got moved up to the front of the store to "shadow" a cashier. After about ten minutes of standing there uselessly, she got swamped with a last minute balloon order and turned the register over to me. This was around 10:30. I spent the rest of the day running the register and helping with balloon orders. Later in the afternoon, while I was in the middle of trying to figure out how to do some tax-exempt thing, my manager walks over and asks if I had taken lunch yet. I shook my head and kept working on what I was doing. He walked over and tapped on my register's screen. Needless to say, I was not expecting to glance up at the display and see that it was already 4:30. As soon as I finished with the customer, I got ordered off the floor and into the back, where I had two assistant managers and the manager alternating between apologizing for not coming to get me and scolding me for not taking lunch. Oops. I completely lost track of time and had been dealing with customers all day, so I hadn't really even seen the opportunity to leave. They let me go a half an hour early to make up for it. I swear, in all the times I had ever stepped foot in that store, I had never seen it as busy as it was yesterday!
I'm just so glad I didn't have to work there this morning. Yesterday afternoon, we got a call from the Swamp (the most popular sports-bar in Gainesville). They ordered 150 orange and blue balloon bouquets that they wanted ready for pick-up at 10a.m. this morning for the Gator's first Final Four game. Now, the thing is, the bouquets that they ordered each had one mylar basketball balloon that could be done the day before, but four latex balloons (two orange, two blue) that would need to be done the day they were going to be used. So in other words, 700 balloons would need to be blown and arranged by 10a.m. in a store that doesn't even open before 9a.m. The opening staff only gets there at 8:00a.m., so they'd have only two hours to get all that done, while dealing with the regular morning stuff and customers. Like I said, I'm soooo glad I wasn't working today!
In other news, I am furious with my best friend's boyfriend. She's been dating the guy for nearly four years now, and is currently living with him. Now, I'm not really a prude or anything, but I don't like the idea of my best friend living in an apartment that he pays for, in a city that she moved to because it's where he works, when she's the one with the tiny little first-year public school teacher's salary. I'd rather she be a bit more secure than that. So of course, I like it even less when he decides that he wants a house and buys one in his name, with his money. However, the up side of that was a comment that he had made a while back about waiting to propose to her until he had a house. Well, I think, now he's got one, so he can propose, she can say yes, and they can all live happily ever after. More importantly, I can stop freaking out that my best friend since I was eleven (or was it ten), who's practically a sister to me, will have nothing to fall back on if things go sour between them. So yesterday, while chatting with Best Buddy, I mention this theory (not the me freaking out part. She doesn't need to know that). Instead of a cheerful "yep" or an excited squeal, or even a laughing denial, I get a rather gloomy (though trying not to sound gloomy--see what knowing someone for so long does?)sigh and "I don't think so." Alarms start going off, so I ask why not, thinking maybe she's just had a long day and it's catching up with her. No such luck.
That bastard bought a ring a few months ago (I don't know when exactly, and I didn't want to ask), but then things got sort of rough between them (I'm thinking this was between Thanksgiving and Christmas), so he returned it. It's not that that makes me want to kick him in the manly bits, it's the fact that he f-ing told her this! I mean, what the hell?! Why would you possibly tell your girlfriend who you are supposed to love that you bought the freaking ring but then you changed your mind and RETURNED the damn thing?!
And now my blood pressure is way to high, and I have the overwhelming urge to be a good Samaritan and volunteer to help them finish moving, just so that I can go down there, take that jackass aside, and rip him a new one. The next time I see him, a ring had damned well better be on her finger and he had better have his shit together.
I got there a couple of minutes before ten yesterday morning, turned in some tax stuff, got assigned a locker, and shown how to use the time clock. Then I got taken to the managers' office to begin "training." Training apparently means "the reading and viewing of intellectually insulting and absurdly cheesy documents and videos, the contents of which one should already know from reading the employee handbook. Further, any new material covered in said videos and print media may fall outside of the realm of common sense for beings with IQs lower than mentally deficient hamsters."
Thankfully, after only about ten minutes of that, the assistant manager had to use the computer (the only one in the entire store), so I got moved up to the front of the store to "shadow" a cashier. After about ten minutes of standing there uselessly, she got swamped with a last minute balloon order and turned the register over to me. This was around 10:30. I spent the rest of the day running the register and helping with balloon orders. Later in the afternoon, while I was in the middle of trying to figure out how to do some tax-exempt thing, my manager walks over and asks if I had taken lunch yet. I shook my head and kept working on what I was doing. He walked over and tapped on my register's screen. Needless to say, I was not expecting to glance up at the display and see that it was already 4:30. As soon as I finished with the customer, I got ordered off the floor and into the back, where I had two assistant managers and the manager alternating between apologizing for not coming to get me and scolding me for not taking lunch. Oops. I completely lost track of time and had been dealing with customers all day, so I hadn't really even seen the opportunity to leave. They let me go a half an hour early to make up for it. I swear, in all the times I had ever stepped foot in that store, I had never seen it as busy as it was yesterday!
I'm just so glad I didn't have to work there this morning. Yesterday afternoon, we got a call from the Swamp (the most popular sports-bar in Gainesville). They ordered 150 orange and blue balloon bouquets that they wanted ready for pick-up at 10a.m. this morning for the Gator's first Final Four game. Now, the thing is, the bouquets that they ordered each had one mylar basketball balloon that could be done the day before, but four latex balloons (two orange, two blue) that would need to be done the day they were going to be used. So in other words, 700 balloons would need to be blown and arranged by 10a.m. in a store that doesn't even open before 9a.m. The opening staff only gets there at 8:00a.m., so they'd have only two hours to get all that done, while dealing with the regular morning stuff and customers. Like I said, I'm soooo glad I wasn't working today!
In other news, I am furious with my best friend's boyfriend. She's been dating the guy for nearly four years now, and is currently living with him. Now, I'm not really a prude or anything, but I don't like the idea of my best friend living in an apartment that he pays for, in a city that she moved to because it's where he works, when she's the one with the tiny little first-year public school teacher's salary. I'd rather she be a bit more secure than that. So of course, I like it even less when he decides that he wants a house and buys one in his name, with his money. However, the up side of that was a comment that he had made a while back about waiting to propose to her until he had a house. Well, I think, now he's got one, so he can propose, she can say yes, and they can all live happily ever after. More importantly, I can stop freaking out that my best friend since I was eleven (or was it ten), who's practically a sister to me, will have nothing to fall back on if things go sour between them. So yesterday, while chatting with Best Buddy, I mention this theory (not the me freaking out part. She doesn't need to know that). Instead of a cheerful "yep" or an excited squeal, or even a laughing denial, I get a rather gloomy (though trying not to sound gloomy--see what knowing someone for so long does?)sigh and "I don't think so." Alarms start going off, so I ask why not, thinking maybe she's just had a long day and it's catching up with her. No such luck.
That bastard bought a ring a few months ago (I don't know when exactly, and I didn't want to ask), but then things got sort of rough between them (I'm thinking this was between Thanksgiving and Christmas), so he returned it. It's not that that makes me want to kick him in the manly bits, it's the fact that he f-ing told her this! I mean, what the hell?! Why would you possibly tell your girlfriend who you are supposed to love that you bought the freaking ring but then you changed your mind and RETURNED the damn thing?!
And now my blood pressure is way to high, and I have the overwhelming urge to be a good Samaritan and volunteer to help them finish moving, just so that I can go down there, take that jackass aside, and rip him a new one. The next time I see him, a ring had damned well better be on her finger and he had better have his shit together.