We have these new pans at work. They’re smaller than those old things, and they sit on top of the…um…I never know what they’re called…the things with the steam, haha, with that black heat thing over top of them that Maggie used to use down her end on nights when she had differently-shaped pans. (I never know what to call any of that stuff. Anyway.) They’re pretty and all, but they’re really, really small. Each one of them will hold about a dozen servings. So when the semester starts up, and we get busy again, somebody is going to have to constantly be running back and forth to refill them. Constantly.
So today Maggie was interrogating Dave (one of the bosses) about how exactly that’s going to work. She asked him if they’d be hiring new people, as we currently have two chefs, one server, and no dishwashers. He told her he’d hired two new chefs, so she could be okay (even though two new ones brings her back up to the same amount we had during the school year, it doesn’t make up for the new work that will have to be done) but that he hadn’t hired any new servers, because he was “pretty sure” Teshura would be coming back.
All this time, I’ve been counting on them getting me some new servers so it wouldn’t be just me during the school year, and they’ve been holding off on hiring them because they’re “…um…pretty sure Teshura is coming back”!? Tinny, who told them all several times when she left that she would not be returning? Tinny, who moved to freaking NEW YORK!? (This is not your fault, Tinny. I don’t blame you.)
So guess who my new partner’s going to be? Katy. Katy, the clueless bimbo, who never wants to do anything at all because she doesn’t know how, and doesn’t really care to learn, either. Katy, who constantly wants to run her mouth, but all she wants to talk about is which guys are hot and what a dick her ex-boyfriend is. Nobody likes her. If it were down to a vote, she would have been fired by a unanimous ruling of her peers. The one time she served with me, that week when we had 1200+ people, she just kept running her mouth about this guy and that guy and her ex—she didn’t want to do anything. She’d lean against the counter, and I’d shove a plate into her hands so she’d be forced to do something, but then she’d just lean back again, despite the fact that there were 500 people in line! Over and over again, so it would really have been easier for me to just do the damned job myself instead of constantly trying to get the plate into her hands.
Most likely, she’ll be fired very soon. Then they’ll have to hire me a new freaking partner. Bastards.