I have some time to kill. I just got home from work. Which started at 12pm. It's 4am. And I work at 10am (weekends are always fun). I fear that if I go to sleep, I won't get up for work. So I'm going to do my body the incredible favour of pulling an all nighter. Especially since I love my job so much, I would hate lack of sleep encourage me to call in sick. Again. I called in last Sunday because I was so tired I felt dead.
Weekends are the only time I seem to work at Real Sports, and obviously the only times I work at Rehab. If I had to choose a bar, I'd pick Rehab.
Today, a I was trying to leave work I realized I forgot my sweater at the bar and ran back to get it. And walked in on two bartenders talking about me and one keenly listening in. I grabbed my sweater, yelled "awkward!" to further the moment, and left.
Then I got in my car and I wanted to cry and let it out, but decided that that poor response would ruin my makeup but mostly that it wouldn't get me anywhere or change anything.
I've never really been made fun of in life, and as far as I know, people generally like me, appreciate my work ethic or can tolerate me enough to say hello and goodbye and respond to my questions when asked.
These people point fingers, and get lippy, act like everything is personal and are rude- like actually skip common courtesies, like responding to me.
Example.
Me: Hey So-and-So, how was the rest of your shift yesterday?
Them: ---
Me: No? Not good?
Them:---
Me: (by which point they've walked away) Alrighty then, well hopefully today is better (note sarcasm)
Example 2.
Them: BobbyJoe, why is this like this?
Me: I'm not sure, I got here after you OR I haven't walked to that end of the bar today, why what's up, and can you please just call me Bobbi- there's no "o'" after the "J"?
Them: Ugggh Never Mind. Actually- this should never happen. Ever. Again.
Me: But I still don't know ("them" walks away) what you're talking about. oookk.
...5 minutes later
Them: BobbiJoe can you do this (not a question).
Me: Sorry tied up serving all four of our tables that we're supposed to be sharing, doing the service bar and serving the wood so No. Do it yourself. And don't fucking call me BobbiJoe. (Ok I don't say that, I say "Not right this minute")
Them: Ugggh. Fine. I'll just do it.
Me: (under my breath) But you're just fucking standing there chatting with the other staff!!!
Cue tears welling up in eyes.
I worked on 2 different bars yesterday at that place and the customers loved me- even went to tell managers about me. The customers like me! Why don't the people I work with.
The bar itself is, however badly managed; I will give those bitches that.
Let the job hunt begin.
Weekends are the only time I seem to work at Real Sports, and obviously the only times I work at Rehab. If I had to choose a bar, I'd pick Rehab.
Today, a I was trying to leave work I realized I forgot my sweater at the bar and ran back to get it. And walked in on two bartenders talking about me and one keenly listening in. I grabbed my sweater, yelled "awkward!" to further the moment, and left.
Then I got in my car and I wanted to cry and let it out, but decided that that poor response would ruin my makeup but mostly that it wouldn't get me anywhere or change anything.
I've never really been made fun of in life, and as far as I know, people generally like me, appreciate my work ethic or can tolerate me enough to say hello and goodbye and respond to my questions when asked.
These people point fingers, and get lippy, act like everything is personal and are rude- like actually skip common courtesies, like responding to me.
Example.
Me: Hey So-and-So, how was the rest of your shift yesterday?
Them: ---
Me: No? Not good?
Them:---
Me: (by which point they've walked away) Alrighty then, well hopefully today is better (note sarcasm)
Example 2.
Them: BobbyJoe, why is this like this?
Me: I'm not sure, I got here after you OR I haven't walked to that end of the bar today, why what's up, and can you please just call me Bobbi- there's no "o'" after the "J"?
Them: Ugggh Never Mind. Actually- this should never happen. Ever. Again.
Me: But I still don't know ("them" walks away) what you're talking about. oookk.
...5 minutes later
Them: BobbiJoe can you do this (not a question).
Me: Sorry tied up serving all four of our tables that we're supposed to be sharing, doing the service bar and serving the wood so No. Do it yourself. And don't fucking call me BobbiJoe. (Ok I don't say that, I say "Not right this minute")
Them: Ugggh. Fine. I'll just do it.
Me: (under my breath) But you're just fucking standing there chatting with the other staff!!!
Cue tears welling up in eyes.
I worked on 2 different bars yesterday at that place and the customers loved me- even went to tell managers about me. The customers like me! Why don't the people I work with.
The bar itself is, however badly managed; I will give those bitches that.
Let the job hunt begin.
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