(no subject)
I suppose it's unfortunate that one of the few times I've come back on here is to rant, but I'm cranky and I get an excuse to use my bitchin' Filled With Hate Icon, so there.
I came back to work after a delicious week of absence (and after a crazy NYE shift I ran) to discover I was running this Saturday (yesterday, blerg) 's night shift, 5pm till 3am. A standard shift (standard shifts are ass long and poop). Students are back and without classes but with disposable income, which shouldn't be too big a deal for our little eastside shop, but still something to keep in mind. Lo and behold, I learn a little ways in we might be taking the campus' phones after a certain point. Lo, I learn that we are taking their phones at 10pm, but they have been admonished into sending their folks over to deal with any excess that might happen. I'm unhappy but think I should be able to get through okay. Let's do that totally awesome Saved by the Bell stop time thingy, and review a few key facts I did not entirely appreciate:
>The students are back in town, and the dorms are open, i.e. roosted full of the their tacky pants with words on back and rhinestone glittered iphone having jersey shore blasted freshmen selves
>The Colts v. Jets game is going on and begins to finish up right around, oh, lessee, 10pm
>The campus store is getting slammed and is running out of bread at 10pm
>This means their phones are off the hooks and their drivers are hither and yon, scattered to the four winds like so much harried iodized Mrs. Lot
>Those self same drivers won't be available to help until the come back and help close the campus store
>Of my two drivers one is out, at 10, trying to track down an order for 10, who, handily, has the wrong phone number listed on her order, and so can't be reached. He will be at this futile task for 30-45 minutes
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnyway, this basically amounts to, at 10, every phone in my shop going FREAKING APE SHIT (a chronicled condition, it's messy) for, oh, 2 hours straight. The silver lining is that, after notifying my general (runs the shop) and area (runs Bloomington) managers of th' ruckus, they both swoop in, we get the drivers from 10th, we get an extra person in to help the rest of the night, and disaster is averted. My close (leaving the shop tidy and orderly) sucked, I thought I was off by 120 for a bit, which went down to 20, which I'm still not sure what happened, my driver who helps close down the shop was out with deliveries past 3am (when we close) , etc., etc. etc. and so I didn't leave the shop till 5:30am. The next day's manager usually arrives around 6-7am. I'm tired, I'm cranky, and I'm fed up with this freaking job. I'm going to drink some bourbon, fall over and collapse. Potentially to be called in to correct stuff that didn't get properly taken care of last night. To which I say, Le Fook Eueueueue. Thhhhppppbbbbbtttttt.
I came back to work after a delicious week of absence (and after a crazy NYE shift I ran) to discover I was running this Saturday (yesterday, blerg) 's night shift, 5pm till 3am. A standard shift (standard shifts are ass long and poop). Students are back and without classes but with disposable income, which shouldn't be too big a deal for our little eastside shop, but still something to keep in mind. Lo and behold, I learn a little ways in we might be taking the campus' phones after a certain point. Lo, I learn that we are taking their phones at 10pm, but they have been admonished into sending their folks over to deal with any excess that might happen. I'm unhappy but think I should be able to get through okay. Let's do that totally awesome Saved by the Bell stop time thingy, and review a few key facts I did not entirely appreciate:
>The students are back in town, and the dorms are open, i.e. roosted full of the their tacky pants with words on back and rhinestone glittered iphone having jersey shore blasted freshmen selves
>The Colts v. Jets game is going on and begins to finish up right around, oh, lessee, 10pm
>The campus store is getting slammed and is running out of bread at 10pm
>This means their phones are off the hooks and their drivers are hither and yon, scattered to the four winds like so much harried iodized Mrs. Lot
>Those self same drivers won't be available to help until the come back and help close the campus store
>Of my two drivers one is out, at 10, trying to track down an order for 10, who, handily, has the wrong phone number listed on her order, and so can't be reached. He will be at this futile task for 30-45 minutes
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnyway, this basically amounts to, at 10, every phone in my shop going FREAKING APE SHIT (a chronicled condition, it's messy) for, oh, 2 hours straight. The silver lining is that, after notifying my general (runs the shop) and area (runs Bloomington) managers of th' ruckus, they both swoop in, we get the drivers from 10th, we get an extra person in to help the rest of the night, and disaster is averted. My close (leaving the shop tidy and orderly) sucked, I thought I was off by 120 for a bit, which went down to 20, which I'm still not sure what happened, my driver who helps close down the shop was out with deliveries past 3am (when we close) , etc., etc. etc. and so I didn't leave the shop till 5:30am. The next day's manager usually arrives around 6-7am. I'm tired, I'm cranky, and I'm fed up with this freaking job. I'm going to drink some bourbon, fall over and collapse. Potentially to be called in to correct stuff that didn't get properly taken care of last night. To which I say, Le Fook Eueueueue. Thhhhppppbbbbbtttttt.