The Job and The Father

Ok, so I’ve worked two more shifts since I last wrote and have to revise my previous comments on it just a little bit. I worked a rush shift yesterday, and finally did significantly better on tips. This was partial because I had more than one fucking run, and partially because my occasionally wonderful (but always loved) father decided to call into the store and place an order for delivery. To my house, on his credit card, with a 30 dollar tip. Al-fucking-right! Thank you pops! Dinner and food for 2 weeks.

Now today, on another morning shift, I learned the real meaning of the “Day driver shift”. See what that phrase really means is “Day Store’s-bitch shift.” See, the way the shift actually goes is do a bunch of random ass cleaning, cooking, filling and sweeping, with the occasionally delivery punctuated in there. Its not necessarily bad, cause I’m getting paid to do it, but it still kinda fucking sucks.

Oh and I may have fucked the store up bad, on complete accident. See, apparently corporate calls the store every week to do a test call and see if each store is upselling wings. Guess who got that call on their first ever time answering the phone? You got it, little ole me. And fuck no I didn’t upsell wings, it was my first time taking an order and no one had even -told- me to upsell wings. But I sure as fuck ain’t going to forget now.

Well that is it for tonight folks, check back tomorrow for random ass thoughts from TheDak man’s brain. Probably about superheroes. Or maybe fears, I dunno.