[Saturday, May. 22, 2004 @ 11:58 p.m.]
[ Attack of The Killer Youth Groups! ]

Crazy kids!

There were two of them; two throbbing groups of youths from out of town or somewhere that horded maybe 50 teens. The first group swarmed us like killer bees and were unrelenting. I had to be my fake charming self to each and every one of them. It felt like hours but when I saw the time clock, it was only a couple of hours: Everyone had the same expression on their faces when this hit them. Since I worked the cash register, it was also my duty to check out the dining room, both the main floor and downstairs. There must've been a food fight, for one of the walls was splattered with chili and ketchup. It took me just mere minutes to wipe up the mess, but my head had visions of young'uns dashing their chili cups and bouncing it off some unsuspecting victim. I laughed it off when some customer and his family asked about it. "Well, it's just a fast food restaurant" I said with a shrug, but I don't think I really meant that.

Just when I thought it was over, another couple of hours waited for us to relax before bombarding us with another wave of hungry youths. It felt like the most vivid dejavu, with wrong drinks, spills behind the counter and the air buzzing with youthful chit-chat. It seemed never-ending!

Eventually, they piled out and we were left with piles of garbage, a shrine of empty and half-empty drink cups littering the tables, all sorts of sauces smeared where you looked and no one cleaning it up. It's amazing how we're nagged to death to clean up after ourselves as children, yet when we get older, we feel we have the right to be as messy as we want to be with the hopes that someone else will clean it up. Another thing about dining out is that people get so mad when their order isn't perfect. I know that as a vegan, someone will get my order wrong, but I see it this way: If you want your meal to be just the way you want it, go home and cook for yourself! If you expect us to serve your greasy burgers and fries on a silver platter to perfection, then put down that crack pipe! It's someone else making your food, plus thousands of others on a daily basis, and it'll never be perfect every single time. It's done under stress and under several different managers telling you different ways to obey them.

May I never manage a business ever again for as long as I live!


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