I quit one of my jobs last night. I was working concessions at a cultural institution here in Cleveland. I had a feeling that this job might be kind of rediculous when I had to be interviewed. INTERVIEWED! By not one, but two people. They asked me the usual questions one might ask for a real job, why I want to work there, what might I bring to the job. I gave some schpeil about wanting to challenging myself and excited to work for a cultural institution where it may turn out to be pretty interesting. Then they made me take a test to see if I can do math.
Interesting it was. The first day I was there, a girl, younger than me, and still very new herself, trained me. But since the job consists of salting and warming pretzels and running a register, I had no problems. I was surprised to learn that at the end of the day, they count our product and our money and our money has to match the report-or we have to pay them. Then they check the count of our product and if the count doesn’t match the report-we have to pay them. Now I was already disappointed in my lack of tips. I wasn’t selling beer and mixed drinks-the impression I had from my interview and test. I was just selling pop, candy, and pretzels and who tips for these things?! But I quickly learned that what little tips I was making was being taken from me. Nothing is more disheartening then working hard for someone, earning them over $1000 over the day, getting paid minimum wage, then having them turn to you and tell you you owe them 50 cents or $3. Seriously?
The next day I’m on the phone with my brother and I bitch about the counting and paying. He informs me that that is a pretty common practice. “That’s exactly what Kevin does.” A owner of a concession business and a friend of the family.
Later, I’m on the phone with my mom and I’m bitching to her. She tells me about the time she worked in a bank and she was off by one cent and she had to stay until until she could account for that penny. My response: What happened to the penny?
My second day there, I was supposed to continue being trained. However, they were down a person and I was thrown into the fire. I was given the stand that is responsible for making coffee. The three stands sell cups and there is a communal coffee station. So second day there, still trying to figure out what is going on and where everything goes, and make coffee and I have a manager not helping me but standing and barking orders to me “you need to put your money in the bank right away, you need to put pretzels on right away, you are responsible for coffee.” Finally, one of the assistants feels bad for me and jumps in and finishes making the pretzels for me and shows me how butter and salt them super-fast. Running my own stand also means running the register-having never used their register. I did good! I almost messed up a credit card transaction but caught myself and told the manager standing by.
Manager: “What did you do?”
Me: “I forgot to press the Credit Card Authorize Button.”
Manager: “Why did you do that?”
Me: “Because I, um, forgot.”
It was my second credit card transaction and I’m still figuring out the system. The mistake was easily and quickly fixed, but that exchange was just silly.
At the end of that day, I only owed them 50 cents.
Second Week:
I’m working a Friday Night and I’m partnered with this girl, she seems kinda ghetto and doesn’t seem to like me. Thoughout the evening I notice I’m bringing in the most of the tips, because I’m actually talking to the customers and saying things like Thank You.
We cash out and we are $5 off so we don’t get our credit card tips. Also, the manager turns to the other girl and said she didn’t charge for a pretzel so she (just her, not we) owns $3. She throws a fit and throws the money down. I don’t know what’s going on and mention it could be my fault since I’m new and I offer to give her $1.50. She refuses and mumbles something about it’s because she’s black. Then she storms out.
I’m back the next day to work a double. (My manager was surprised I returned.) Same stand, different partner, this girl is cuter, friendlier and knows how to work the customers. We rake in the tips. We worked twice the time and we were off a quarter. I then realize the previous night’s issue wasn’t because the girl was black, it was because she is bad at her job. I consider asking the managers not to put me with her ever again-not because of what happened, but because I make less money when I work with her.
Last night I’m partnered with this older lady and I felt sorta guilty that I was leaving so I offer to do things like make and carry the big coffee canisters upstairs and I offer to stay and clean the stand if she wanted to leave and get in line to be counted out. At one point in the evening I told her that it was my last night. There is a pause while we are putting out our candy. “This isn’t what you expected is it?” I said no. Then we go on to bitch about how we are treated. I ask her how long she’s been working there. She says 2 years. I ask her why she doesn’t try to be a bartender. You have to be there for six months before you can get promoted to bartender. But they have it made: They only count cups, they show up later and leave earlier and they make way more tips. She said she used to do that and she thinks she just has to formally request that job up in HR. I hope she does.
So last night, after working my last shift, after being counted out, being off $4, going down to the warehouse to recount our bin and in the end still being off $1.25. I told them I’m quitting, they were genuinely sad to see me go. I told them it’s because I took a server position where I will make more money, which is true. But really it was a disheartening job. You work hard for what little tips you get-only to have it taken away from you. You get bossed around by people who know less about what’s going on.
I will miss some of my co-workers, with some exception, they were the nicest and the craziest group of people I’ve ever worked with.
