“I shot the sheriff…”
What happens when you have three stir-crazy baristas who’ve worked one too many closing shifts, a few empty boxes, and a lull during a Friday night? Photographic answer under the cut.
This was taken with a camera phone, so it’s a little blurry, but it should be kind of clear enough: J, B, and me with boxes on our heads. J has sunglasses and various messages scrawled on her box; B has a cup sticking out of his box, a tie made out of paper on which J wrote B's name, and “bling” in the form of a cup strung with paper; and me with a Starbucks logo sticker where the one on my hat would be had the box not been there. The Drive-Thru customers who we served with boxes on our heads were amused enough, but they probably question our store's sanity now.
Like the last very fun Friday shift I had but was too lazy to write about, we found pretty creative ways to amuse ourselves during this shift. Most of them involved messing with each other. At one point, B and another partner, D, stood poised to throw leftover sandwiches for a full two minutes while waiting for our Shift Supervisor to come out of the back room. The SS’s surprise-and the sight of two sandwiches flying at him-was completely worth the wait.
Also amusing was the running joke B and I have that we had kids together who I never let him see. It was a joke was borne from this situation-no pun intended. Every time B made a little mistake, I joked, “Always screwing up. That’s why I won’t let you see the kids.” Later, B randomly asked, “How’s Mikey?” I shook my head and said, “That’s not his name. You don’t even know his name! That’s why I won’t let you see him!”
I paused and looked to J, who was watching us with a mixture of amusement and worry, and back to B and added, “You know, I have a running joke with both you and [our Shift Supervisor] that I have kids with you guys who I won’t let you see. It’s not even ‘kid,’ it’s ‘children’, plural. I think that makes me a bitch and a whore.” J only laughed and shook her head.
This is exactly how rumors get started in our store, but frankly, I’d be interested to hear how quickly and far this one would spread.
It was a very good end to a shift that had a kind of crappy middle: earlier in the evening, a 17-year-old partner (let’s call her R) was continuously bitching and moaning about how she wanted to go home early. Later, as she was talking to another co-worker, I (politely, mind you) expressed my disagreement with her supposed right to leave two hours before the scheduled end of her shift, and R snapped at me. I was so taken aback that I didn’t respond.
Now that I’ve had some time to stew, I’m a little pissed. While I understand that R has a very frequent tendency to be as emotionally immature as her age allows-and sometimes more-that was not an excuse to use the “I was talking to [someone else]” line and eye roll with me. My little sister stopped doing that a while ago, and she’s effing 13.
I’m not conceited enough to believe that everyone will always be on the best of terms with me, but very, very rarely have I not gotten along with R extremely well. In the year I’ve worked with R, she’s turned her immaturity on pretty much everyone but me. I guess there’s a first time for everything. I’m trying not to let it get to me because I’d bet anything that she’ll be all fine and dandy with me the next time I see her, but right now I just want to throttle her. Grr.
*deep breath* Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts…
Long story short? I heart (most of) my co-workers. Must remember to bring a regular camera to work next time.
Also, just thought I’d mention that the entry/cut titles are from the CD we’ve been playing ad nauseum at work. Really, I’m just getting my fill of regular music before we switch to the holiday music CD. Here’s to hoping “I’m The Happiest Little Christmas Tree” isn’t on the holiday CD this year.
This was taken with a camera phone, so it’s a little blurry, but it should be kind of clear enough: J, B, and me with boxes on our heads. J has sunglasses and various messages scrawled on her box; B has a cup sticking out of his box, a tie made out of paper on which J wrote B's name, and “bling” in the form of a cup strung with paper; and me with a Starbucks logo sticker where the one on my hat would be had the box not been there. The Drive-Thru customers who we served with boxes on our heads were amused enough, but they probably question our store's sanity now.
Like the last very fun Friday shift I had but was too lazy to write about, we found pretty creative ways to amuse ourselves during this shift. Most of them involved messing with each other. At one point, B and another partner, D, stood poised to throw leftover sandwiches for a full two minutes while waiting for our Shift Supervisor to come out of the back room. The SS’s surprise-and the sight of two sandwiches flying at him-was completely worth the wait.
Also amusing was the running joke B and I have that we had kids together who I never let him see. It was a joke was borne from this situation-no pun intended. Every time B made a little mistake, I joked, “Always screwing up. That’s why I won’t let you see the kids.” Later, B randomly asked, “How’s Mikey?” I shook my head and said, “That’s not his name. You don’t even know his name! That’s why I won’t let you see him!”
I paused and looked to J, who was watching us with a mixture of amusement and worry, and back to B and added, “You know, I have a running joke with both you and [our Shift Supervisor] that I have kids with you guys who I won’t let you see. It’s not even ‘kid,’ it’s ‘children’, plural. I think that makes me a bitch and a whore.” J only laughed and shook her head.
This is exactly how rumors get started in our store, but frankly, I’d be interested to hear how quickly and far this one would spread.
It was a very good end to a shift that had a kind of crappy middle: earlier in the evening, a 17-year-old partner (let’s call her R) was continuously bitching and moaning about how she wanted to go home early. Later, as she was talking to another co-worker, I (politely, mind you) expressed my disagreement with her supposed right to leave two hours before the scheduled end of her shift, and R snapped at me. I was so taken aback that I didn’t respond.
Now that I’ve had some time to stew, I’m a little pissed. While I understand that R has a very frequent tendency to be as emotionally immature as her age allows-and sometimes more-that was not an excuse to use the “I was talking to [someone else]” line and eye roll with me. My little sister stopped doing that a while ago, and she’s effing 13.
I’m not conceited enough to believe that everyone will always be on the best of terms with me, but very, very rarely have I not gotten along with R extremely well. In the year I’ve worked with R, she’s turned her immaturity on pretty much everyone but me. I guess there’s a first time for everything. I’m trying not to let it get to me because I’d bet anything that she’ll be all fine and dandy with me the next time I see her, but right now I just want to throttle her. Grr.
*deep breath* Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts…
Long story short? I heart (most of) my co-workers. Must remember to bring a regular camera to work next time.
Also, just thought I’d mention that the entry/cut titles are from the CD we’ve been playing ad nauseum at work. Really, I’m just getting my fill of regular music before we switch to the holiday music CD. Here’s to hoping “I’m The Happiest Little Christmas Tree” isn’t on the holiday CD this year.