I am not griping about this out of jealousy, as I would never want to be stuck in this particular person's shoes. However I at least know that given the current example, I could set the bar for the standard much more than several notches higher.
Turns out, this gutless wonder was introduced to our owner while on a date with one of Birmingham's most renowned womanizers. Let's just say she was clearly on the date for the man's money because there isn't much else appealing about him. Care to know more about the man? Look for the post "The Great Gatsby".
Serena was offered a hostessing position. Easy, right? Answer the phone. Pencil in call ahead requests in a chronological manner. Wipe fingerprints on the glass doors. Seat people. In a rotational method, let the corresponding server know. Organize menus. The trickiest part is getting the spelling correctly on all of our daily specials. Wow. Rocket science.
Somewhere along the line, her value as an asset to the team was lost in translation and reassessed by our owner. Why? Like anyone else's guess, because she is pretty and princesses should not have to work hard. Now, what we refer to as a glorified hostess, Serena is an active floor manager. To my dismay, she also has the power of creating the schedule so guess whose bar shifts went down... Ding, ding, ding, you got it.
I try. I try really, really hard to like someone. My efforts do not always avail. Sometimes, like with Kat, we bash heads but eventually come around to an understanding. We even might just become unbelievably good friends. This girl, I just do not get. At all. After being told she was to train as a server to gain a basic knowledge of our menu, to learn our customer service, to actually become physical in our sidework, our in's and out's of the trade....well, she shut her eyes, and raised her brows before opening up again to say, "I wasn't hired to serve." Just like that, she made "serving" a dirty word... An insult. A job that is looked down upon as degrading.
My point is this-- until Serena knows what we know, has worked as hard as we do, and can honestly say that "she's been there," none of us will ever take her seriously. She is not part of the team. This is not a symbiotic relationship. I am not afraind to call bullshit when I see it.
Picture this. A patient needs a liver transplant. The patient preps for the upcoming procedure, takes regimens of pills. The transplant is completed and the patient must continue taking antibiotics and anti-rejection pills so that the body does not attack the organ, fighting it off as the body would any foreign entity. If the patient does not put in the work to maintain the acceptance of the organ, the body will reject the liver and the patient will die. The Valley as a whole, is the body and Serena is the liver. If she does not put in her fair share, the team won't accept her and the whole kit and caboodle will go out the window. Simple as that.
It's sad. To have set roots down in a place. To spend more time out of every day at work than at my own home. To gain friendships between staff over the years, and in such a short period of time see everything from morale and ethics to effort go to shit and disintegrate. People who have invested years into the restaurant have become numb which is the absolute worst... because we're not even angry anymore. We won't even fight for what can't be fought over because what is the point? We are just mentally cashed out. We're done.
The worst part is, I am exhausted. Tomorrow is looking like a 14 hour work day...with the hostess with the mostest. I haven't stopped grinding my teeth from earlier. Still frustrated about the evening, I sit and pout and type away my misery... It's easy to say, "Why go back to a job you aren't fulfilled with?" Because. Beggars can't be choosers. If I had all the answers in this world, I would tell you. Today, I am sorely out of good reasons and explanations. I had promised myself this would be the last serving job I would have, and I have tried to adhere to that vow. What it all comes down to at the end of the day?
A job is a job. A grain of salt is all it is, even if it is salt in the wounds.
-Malia Etienette
Photo Credit:
Attila the Hun- www.motifake.com
The Help- www.magicdvdripper.com
Hate our Boss- www.rottenecards.com
No comments:
Post a Comment