I had a mini-epiphany at work today.
I was given the job of answering the phones, which is usually not very difficult and is usually the job given to the person nobody wants to deal with that day. The phone usually rings quite a bit for half an hour around 6, and then quiets, staying content for the rest of the night, apart from the occasional speed bump (these happen when somebody decides they want pizza at 8:30 pm. Who are these guys?!). Today was different though. I really do think that everyone within 20 miles of the store decided to order over the phone. At the same time. I'd hang up, and it would ring. Then the second line rang. Then the shift leader shouted at me to answer them. Then he shouted at someone else. It sounded like this for about 3 hours: "RRRRRRIING.....rrriiing.....rinnngDANI!ThankyouforcallingRIIIIIIIIIIIIING....RIIIINGDANI!I know, I'm getting i-RRRRING!Thankyouforcall-RRRIIIIINGugh, thankyouforcalling..."
It was all a very noisy mess.
In the very few seconds in between callers that I claimed for myself to regain my rationality (Ok, it's okay, it's quiet now. Inhale....exhale. IlovemyjobIlovemyjob. I love my RRRRRRIIIIIIING!) I decided that food merchandising is the best place on earth to learn humility. I'm learning to recognize what people are thinking about me based on the condescending looks on their faces. I'm The Labor. Not an actual person. Thus, I am the only thing that connects The Person to The Food. Perhaps that means that I should be the one who is all-powerful in that situation, but it could never be so. Why? Because I am also the only thing separating The Person and The Food. This means that everything is my fault. If something goes wrong and I was the person speaking to the customer, regardless of whether or not I ever handled their food, I become the face to throw darts at. Just the way it is, I guess, but I quietly wish that people might consider that I am an actual human, not just someone who takes their money and gives them food.
Here's what I've learned in my 9 months of employment:
1. You DO NOT mess with Americans and their food. Thunder will crash and heads will roll if Ted does not get his pizza with HALF the cheese, 1/4 the pineapple, pepperonis only on half, and a big smiley face made out of artichokes in the middle. Also, if Jane calls in at 5:36 pm and you promise her that her order will be ready in ten minutes, you'd better be ready to cut off your pinky toe if her triple-decker salami and olive pizza is not in her hands at 5:46 pm on the dot.
2. Your place of employment owns your soul. Your place of employment owns your soul. Your place of employment owns your soul. Your place of employment owns your soul.
3. Food customers, beware: You have no idea what goes on in the back of those stores. I spent an hour today washing dishes, which hold your food, which you put into your body, and I was very VERY lazy about it. The people touching your food really just want to go home. So be picky.
4. Shake it off. I deal with people all the time who act like I just wiped my nose on their shirt sleeve and fingerpainted on their Lambourghini (Lambergeenee?). I've mastered the art of smiling at them and saying "Okay, I'll take care of that." I find it satisfying because it strips them of their power. I'm like Ned Flanders and they are abso-diddly-fiddly-outly frustrated.
I have not yet learned how to make the floor less hard and painful on my poor little feet.
Throbbing,
Girl 16.
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