Here's one of the last incidents that occurred while I still worked in the deli/bakery at the store. By this time, my friend who also worked there had left, and we'd gotten two new employees.
The new clerk (NC), and the new dishwasher (ND).
Co-worker (CW), not to be confused with Awesome Co-worker (AC), was working that day as well, but had clocked out for her break half an hour prior to the incident. By this point, she'd gotten what she wanted, full time, all the while continuing to royally screw the rest of us. Her breaks were only thirty minutes long, but she'd gotten a free pass from the department manager to take an hour or longer, even though it was against store policy. This is relevant.
NC was standing at my usual work station, near the back, making salads and sandwiches for the next day, and I was up front waiting on customers when one came up to the counter.
C: I'm here to pick up an order for fifty piece fried chicken.
I was immediately confused. I had not seen, anywhere, any note that said to expect this, nor had I seen any food being prepared for it.
Me: I'll check this warmer right here for you.
I had a smile on my face, but I was screaming internally. The warmer, which was under the table that had the scale and the slicer on it, did not have large enough shelves to place a box with fifty pieces of chicken. Sure enough, it wasn't there. I stood up, with a look of dread falling upon my normally collected face.
She sees the way I look, and dawning realization fell upon her face.
C: I called the order in yesterday.
Me: It was probably put in the back so no one would sell it by mistake. I'll be right back.
She seemed placated, so I hurried to the back, but on my way there, knowing that there was no place to keep it, I paused. There was a large pan with a dozen or so pieces of cold chicken in it. It had been sitting out all day.
I turned to NC.
Me: Do you know anything about an order for fifty pieces of fried chicken?
She stopped, and the look on her face told me everything I needed to know.
ND: What's going on?
Me: This lady is here to pick up an order that we don't have.
All three of us scattered around the department, looking for an order form. The only real ones we have are for cakes, and for fruit or sandwich trays. Everything else has to be improvised on blank paper and left on the manager's desk. We looked everywhere, we looked in the bakery side's order sheets, looked all over the desk, on all the clipboards, nothing.
ND went to the front, and a quiet argument ensued. The customer ordered the food more than twenty four hours ago, which is the latest you can order something and expect it the next day. ND explained that we didn't have an order form. She confirms that she called this store, and gave the order.
NC and I have already gotten the fresh, uncooked chicken from the fridge, and have opened the batter.
The customer is becoming agitated, I'm assuming because we haven't made the order magically appear. ND is having none of it.
ND: Look, by the time you finish arguing with me, we could have already started making your order. This way, it'll be fresh. Do you want it or not?
C: Yes, I do. How long will it take?
ND: About half an hour.
C: Okay, I'll be back by then.
The customer huffed away, and the three of us frantically began sorting through what we needed and started dropping everything in the fryer.
Exactly thirty minutes later, the customer returned, and we were just pulling everything out to box it up.
NC: Where are the boxes?
Me: They're supposed to be in the bakery.
The customer is getting irritated again, because it's not ready yet.
C: You said it would be ready by now!
ND: It is, but we're trying to find the box to put it in.
I made a mad dash for the warehouse, and was digging around for the right boxes. I couldn't find them, so I ran back to the deli. NC and ND wound up putting it all in a cake box, and the customer left without so much as a thank you.
It was after she was out of sight that I turned around and saw a tiny, bright yellow post-it on one of the refrigerators. The chicken scratch that was written on it said something akin to '50 piece chicken,' and the date. I was livid. Whoever took the order completely ignored procedure and thought that this was acceptable.
I showed it to the others. We initially thought that it was the day shift who had done it, but that would imply that the order was placed that morning, not the afternoon before.
An hour and a half after clocking out for her break, CW saunters back in, and asks why we all look so pissed. ND showed her the post it. She laughed.
CW: I took that order yesterday! Now I remember, I forgot why I made all that chicken earlier. indicating the cold chicken sitting on the stove
She went about her business, and ND looked at us.
ND: What do we tell (Department Manager)? She's going to be pissed.
Me: I glared towards CW, this wasn't the first stunt she pulled Throw her under the fucking bus. I'm done.
Unfortunately, I wasn't quite done until another week later.
Submitted March 04, 2017 at 08:56AM by AttackDoughnut http://ift.tt/2mlypMK TalesFromRetail
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