So, I got meself a job at "My favorite muffin and bagel cafe". No, it is not my favorite, that is in fact the name. Stupid, I know. Believe me, I know... Anyways, my first day was last Saturday and it was pretty nerve racking because it was so busy for the first couple of hours. Not to mention the fact that Charlie, the owner, is the one training me and I'm almost certain he's just boarded the express train to senility. The creepiest parts were when he would be explaining something and then just break off, look up and stare straight ahead for a few minutes. Then he would come back down and go on as if he hadn't stopped talking."....As I was saying, if it's a large coffee, you have to press this stupidly complicated amount of numbers while rubbing your head and patting your stomach..." "O_O" Oh, and speaking of the the cash register; spawn of satan!
And it was completely humiliating that they only had a medium size working shirt and the aprons we also have to wear reach down nearly to my knees. When one of the customers asked how old you had to be to work there, you could so see she was expecting thirteen or fourteen. Well, it's sixteen, lady. Six frigging teen. That's right.
Not that I'm bitter or anything.
1 comment:
Oh, Katie, a real job!!! You're such a grownup now. That must make me officially old. One piece of advice: don't give your boss the address of this blog.
You can thank me later. :)
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