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Sep. 27th, 2006 03:42 pmSO.
At my new place of work, paychecks theoretically come out on Fridays. So last Friday - no, wait, make that last Saturday, because I'm kind of the absentminded sort - I asked for my paycheck. Oh, Tom says, there was a thing, it should be here Monday. Technical glitch, I think, no problem, those happen. He offers me a cash advance, I say no thanks, I've got enough to tide me over till then.
On Sunday, the Tigers clinch. Oh, I think, I'm getting paid tomorrow, I can afford to go out and party a little.
On Monday, I stop by work after classes to grab my check. OH HAY LOOK THE SCHEDULE'S CHANGED. Instead of being closed only on Tuesday, we are now closed MONDAY AND TUESDAY. It was so nice of Tom to let me know ahead of ti - oh wait. Good thing I only partied a little.
Meanwhile, Connie calls from Cumby's wanting to know if I can work a few hours on Wednesday, which I had previously said I would be able to do. Sorry, I say, my paycheck's late and Wednesday's the only day this week I'll be able to go grocery shopping. So there's a few extra bucks down the drain, plus I had to break my word when I know Connie really needs the help right now.
That brings us to today. I approach the restaurant. The OPEN sign isn't lit. How strange, I think, surely they just forgot to turn it on, surely they aren't closed AGAIN.
There's a crossing guard stationed outside, and he knows from my mini-tantrum on Monday that I work there. "Hey," he says, "are they ever gonna open again?"
NO.
NO.
NO FUCKING WAY.
The door is locked.
The top of my head blows off.
I call the store, hoping to at least leave a message. Naturally, it just keeps ringing.
I yank my Algebra notebook out of my bag, rip out a piece of paper, and leave an angry note demanding a phonecall to inform me of whether I need bother showing up tomorrow.
As I have mentioned, I am very non-confrontational. Me leaving a note like that is like someone else, oh, getting a knife and carving the message directly into the door.
I am vastly unimpressed with this place so far. My "training" has been lacking at best, Tom is perhaps not as organized as a business owner might want to be, and let us not speak of some of the more interesting approaches to the health code I've seen. (I know no food business is going to be perfect, it's not possible, and I definitely haven't seen anything approaching the kind of nightmare that ends up in a Reader's Digest expose, but maybe if the Swiss cheese has been sitting in a puddle on the counter for a couple hours, it should be thrown away?) This business with the paycheck is not encouraging. I am going to wait it out, because shit happens and for all I know his mother died or something, but I will at least tell him I'm unthrilled with the lack of communication. Really, take five minutes and let your employees know there's been some kind of emergency. I've had some really, really shitty jobs, but every last one of them at least got my paycheck to me on time. What worries me a bit is that this isn't the first unannounced closure since I started working there, and that he's mentioned several times that I could get advances on my checks if I needed them - I thought he was just being nice, but now I'm wondering if this sort of glitch is a recurring thing. We shall see. I'm not going to jump the gun, but I'm also not going to work in a place where I can't count on getting my pay in a timely fashion.
At my new place of work, paychecks theoretically come out on Fridays. So last Friday - no, wait, make that last Saturday, because I'm kind of the absentminded sort - I asked for my paycheck. Oh, Tom says, there was a thing, it should be here Monday. Technical glitch, I think, no problem, those happen. He offers me a cash advance, I say no thanks, I've got enough to tide me over till then.
On Sunday, the Tigers clinch. Oh, I think, I'm getting paid tomorrow, I can afford to go out and party a little.
On Monday, I stop by work after classes to grab my check. OH HAY LOOK THE SCHEDULE'S CHANGED. Instead of being closed only on Tuesday, we are now closed MONDAY AND TUESDAY. It was so nice of Tom to let me know ahead of ti - oh wait. Good thing I only partied a little.
Meanwhile, Connie calls from Cumby's wanting to know if I can work a few hours on Wednesday, which I had previously said I would be able to do. Sorry, I say, my paycheck's late and Wednesday's the only day this week I'll be able to go grocery shopping. So there's a few extra bucks down the drain, plus I had to break my word when I know Connie really needs the help right now.
That brings us to today. I approach the restaurant. The OPEN sign isn't lit. How strange, I think, surely they just forgot to turn it on, surely they aren't closed AGAIN.
There's a crossing guard stationed outside, and he knows from my mini-tantrum on Monday that I work there. "Hey," he says, "are they ever gonna open again?"
NO.
NO.
NO FUCKING WAY.
The door is locked.
The top of my head blows off.
I call the store, hoping to at least leave a message. Naturally, it just keeps ringing.
I yank my Algebra notebook out of my bag, rip out a piece of paper, and leave an angry note demanding a phonecall to inform me of whether I need bother showing up tomorrow.
As I have mentioned, I am very non-confrontational. Me leaving a note like that is like someone else, oh, getting a knife and carving the message directly into the door.
I am vastly unimpressed with this place so far. My "training" has been lacking at best, Tom is perhaps not as organized as a business owner might want to be, and let us not speak of some of the more interesting approaches to the health code I've seen. (I know no food business is going to be perfect, it's not possible, and I definitely haven't seen anything approaching the kind of nightmare that ends up in a Reader's Digest expose, but maybe if the Swiss cheese has been sitting in a puddle on the counter for a couple hours, it should be thrown away?) This business with the paycheck is not encouraging. I am going to wait it out, because shit happens and for all I know his mother died or something, but I will at least tell him I'm unthrilled with the lack of communication. Really, take five minutes and let your employees know there's been some kind of emergency. I've had some really, really shitty jobs, but every last one of them at least got my paycheck to me on time. What worries me a bit is that this isn't the first unannounced closure since I started working there, and that he's mentioned several times that I could get advances on my checks if I needed them - I thought he was just being nice, but now I'm wondering if this sort of glitch is a recurring thing. We shall see. I'm not going to jump the gun, but I'm also not going to work in a place where I can't count on getting my pay in a timely fashion.
