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Words about work
Jan. 7th, 2012 12:00 amA/N: I seem to have inexplicably decided to experiment with inline footnotes for this post. Let me know what you think!
So, I've been working for like six weeks without ever really mentioning it. Also, I'm tired of having deepissuetriggerystuff at the top of my journal --I mean, I know it's serious business and worth talking about and that sort of thing.
But this is my journal, and I am a dangerously irreverent person. If you can't cope with that, this space is not really for you. Sorry!
Anywho, I am working at a coffee shop. YAY COFFEE SHOP! Because I am not a cool kid, it is not a cool independent little coffee shop like Diesel or Block 11 or Sherman Cafe. It is, in fact, part of the dominant coffee chain in Boston. There is pink and orange everywhere. Yeah, that one.
The job is surprisingly acceptable to me. Basically, customers come in, they tell me what kind of coffee they want, and I give it to them. Sometimes they ask for other things like donuts, and I then I turn to the donutcase and get one. Or, as is more often the case, I politely take their money and smile at them for a few awkward minutes while I wonder why the hell they aren't leaving the counter and then go "OH DONUT RIGHT!" and then turn to the donutcase.
This is seriously a thing that happens to me. As in, twice in a row today. What the hell, Sor, it is not that difficult a job.
When there aren't customers in the store, I (in descending order of frequency) clean, restock/make coffee, write stories and thoughts and essays on the back of receipts that I fish from the trash, and dance aimlessly to the radio. Sometimes I also swipe food or drink (which is actually completely sanctioned by the management, but I prefer to imply I'm stealing it because it's more fun like that).
My ultimate goal with filching drink is to figure out the single most obnoxiously complicated thing I enjoy drinking, so when I go into other copies of the store, I can be terrible at them. This is a very bad thing for me to do and I should feel very bad about it, but then people order drinks with half a sugar and I abruptly stop feeling bad, because at least I'm not going to do that.
(For reference, the sugar machine does not have a "half" button, and we don't keep sugar packets easily accessible on our side of the counter. If you want a half-sugar, we have to jerk the cup out from under the dispensing nozzle so that the other half of the sugar goes all over the counter. Which we then have to clean, again. And this is why every single one of you who has ordered this can go to hell.
Same with dairy.)
Anyway, I would be much better at this adventure, except in all honesty, the thing I drink most often is water with a shot of raspberry flavour syrup. And that is just not a good order at all. On the plus side, today I had a small coffee with five pumps of caramel syrup and four things of cream, and that was fekking delicious. Also on the plus side of this goal, it struck me today that I want to figure out how to swirl two flavours ofcoolattamysterious-non-branded-slushie together to essentially make a coolatta sunrise. I'm pretty sure it can't be done with fewer than three cups, but that might be worth it.
And it's certainly better than my "bacon coolatta" idea, which I (thank god) still haven't figured out exactly how to achieve, and therefore have not yet had to drink.
When there are customers in the store, my job is to play nice with them. I think I've decided I like all the regulars.
Especially "Extra-large black with exactly three pumps of pumpkin spice", who plays world of warcraft, and "shot of espresso with a touch of caramel, no cup protector" who brought a friend who orders the exact same thing plus a medium black two sugars. Oh, and Gary, of course. Gary's awesome.
I like most of the irregulars as well, with the (thankfully rare) exception of people who seem to think I'm the manager because I'm the only white person working, and the (unfortunately common) exception of people who want to know where the Kendall Theatre is.
I don't actually dislike these people, but they are usually stressed and confused, and don't buy anything. Anyway, keep going down Broadway, swing a left at Portland, go through the light and take the next right. There's a sign.
And...that's life. I work closing all the time, which is...really sucky, actually. Close is a lot more of the parts I don't like (cleaning, having a lot of things to get done) and a lot fewer of the things I do like (interacting with customers, the video-game-esque challenge of "fill coffee cups as fast as possible with correct orders and also keep making coffee before it runs out and occasionally have to fill the sugar or dairy machines").
More importantly, close means I'll be at the store an extra hour after I'm scheduled, because I have to clean all the things. So I keep missing Scottish and the first half of Squares (which means, crucially, hex sign-ups. I need to convince Pi-Nerd to start stopping by work on his way to Squares to see if I think I'll be there in time for the hex, except for the part where this involves encouraging my most mischief-oriented friend to come to my workplace. What a gloriously bad idea.) No dance means less sanity to spare, which when you add to being really busy during my most useful writing hours of the day, and being exhausted all the time means I'm...probably a little less stable than normal right now.
But they give me a paycheck, which is...crucial right now. I keep putting them into my account and looking at my account balance and making this face-> :D
Or sometimes, when rent is coming up or there is something expensive I want to do or I still haven't figured out to whom I owe twenty-five dollars for my Squares membership this winter, this face -> >:-|
(I, of course, only have a nose when I am worried-stressed. Like most people.)
And while I don't jump for joy at getting to go to work, I do mostly enjoy myself while there (unless I have to clean ovens, fuck that noise, the chemicals make my head feel awful), and I think there are more songs on the radio that I enjoy than loathe. So it's a net positive.
And hey. I haven't had to pay for food in a month.
No, of course I am not actually serious about this. I promise you, I am not living solely off the things I can get at work. That would be a stupid idea for many reasons, not the least of which is "vegetables".
~Sor
MOOP!
So, I've been working for like six weeks without ever really mentioning it. Also, I'm tired of having deepissuetriggerystuff at the top of my journal --I mean, I know it's serious business and worth talking about and that sort of thing.
But this is my journal, and I am a dangerously irreverent person. If you can't cope with that, this space is not really for you. Sorry!
Anywho, I am working at a coffee shop. YAY COFFEE SHOP! Because I am not a cool kid, it is not a cool independent little coffee shop like Diesel or Block 11 or Sherman Cafe. It is, in fact, part of the dominant coffee chain in Boston. There is pink and orange everywhere. Yeah, that one.
The job is surprisingly acceptable to me. Basically, customers come in, they tell me what kind of coffee they want, and I give it to them. Sometimes they ask for other things like donuts, and I then I turn to the donutcase and get one. Or, as is more often the case, I politely take their money and smile at them for a few awkward minutes while I wonder why the hell they aren't leaving the counter and then go "OH DONUT RIGHT!" and then turn to the donutcase.
This is seriously a thing that happens to me. As in, twice in a row today. What the hell, Sor, it is not that difficult a job.
When there aren't customers in the store, I (in descending order of frequency) clean, restock/make coffee, write stories and thoughts and essays on the back of receipts that I fish from the trash, and dance aimlessly to the radio. Sometimes I also swipe food or drink (which is actually completely sanctioned by the management, but I prefer to imply I'm stealing it because it's more fun like that).
My ultimate goal with filching drink is to figure out the single most obnoxiously complicated thing I enjoy drinking, so when I go into other copies of the store, I can be terrible at them. This is a very bad thing for me to do and I should feel very bad about it, but then people order drinks with half a sugar and I abruptly stop feeling bad, because at least I'm not going to do that.
(For reference, the sugar machine does not have a "half" button, and we don't keep sugar packets easily accessible on our side of the counter. If you want a half-sugar, we have to jerk the cup out from under the dispensing nozzle so that the other half of the sugar goes all over the counter. Which we then have to clean, again. And this is why every single one of you who has ordered this can go to hell.
Same with dairy.)
Anyway, I would be much better at this adventure, except in all honesty, the thing I drink most often is water with a shot of raspberry flavour syrup. And that is just not a good order at all. On the plus side, today I had a small coffee with five pumps of caramel syrup and four things of cream, and that was fekking delicious. Also on the plus side of this goal, it struck me today that I want to figure out how to swirl two flavours of
And it's certainly better than my "bacon coolatta" idea, which I (thank god) still haven't figured out exactly how to achieve, and therefore have not yet had to drink.
When there are customers in the store, my job is to play nice with them. I think I've decided I like all the regulars.
Especially "Extra-large black with exactly three pumps of pumpkin spice", who plays world of warcraft, and "shot of espresso with a touch of caramel, no cup protector" who brought a friend who orders the exact same thing plus a medium black two sugars. Oh, and Gary, of course. Gary's awesome.
I like most of the irregulars as well, with the (thankfully rare) exception of people who seem to think I'm the manager because I'm the only white person working, and the (unfortunately common) exception of people who want to know where the Kendall Theatre is.
I don't actually dislike these people, but they are usually stressed and confused, and don't buy anything. Anyway, keep going down Broadway, swing a left at Portland, go through the light and take the next right. There's a sign.
And...that's life. I work closing all the time, which is...really sucky, actually. Close is a lot more of the parts I don't like (cleaning, having a lot of things to get done) and a lot fewer of the things I do like (interacting with customers, the video-game-esque challenge of "fill coffee cups as fast as possible with correct orders and also keep making coffee before it runs out and occasionally have to fill the sugar or dairy machines").
More importantly, close means I'll be at the store an extra hour after I'm scheduled, because I have to clean all the things. So I keep missing Scottish and the first half of Squares (which means, crucially, hex sign-ups. I need to convince Pi-Nerd to start stopping by work on his way to Squares to see if I think I'll be there in time for the hex, except for the part where this involves encouraging my most mischief-oriented friend to come to my workplace. What a gloriously bad idea.) No dance means less sanity to spare, which when you add to being really busy during my most useful writing hours of the day, and being exhausted all the time means I'm...probably a little less stable than normal right now.
But they give me a paycheck, which is...crucial right now. I keep putting them into my account and looking at my account balance and making this face-> :D
Or sometimes, when rent is coming up or there is something expensive I want to do or I still haven't figured out to whom I owe twenty-five dollars for my Squares membership this winter, this face -> >:-|
(I, of course, only have a nose when I am worried-stressed. Like most people.)
And while I don't jump for joy at getting to go to work, I do mostly enjoy myself while there (unless I have to clean ovens, fuck that noise, the chemicals make my head feel awful), and I think there are more songs on the radio that I enjoy than loathe. So it's a net positive.
And hey. I haven't had to pay for food in a month.
No, of course I am not actually serious about this. I promise you, I am not living solely off the things I can get at work. That would be a stupid idea for many reasons, not the least of which is "vegetables".
~Sor
MOOP!
