It's a F@#!*&% Winter Wonderland (Actual Profanity in Post)
I'm fucking exhausted. It began snowing Wednesday night and has continued intermittently right up to the present, to the tune of 18" of accumulation. The bulk of the snow fell between noon and 10pm yesterday. I worked 11am-8pm yesterday, and 11am-9pm again today. It's been a very stressful 36 hours.
Last night, Flanney, the district manager, was in our store monitoring the situation. He just would not let us close down delivery, despite the fact that the roads had become a nightmare. I got to make all of the deliveries to the hilly areas, because I have all-wheel drive and the other drivers were in beaters. On my last two runs, I was almost in three accidents. Pulling out of the parking lot of the Lexington Arms Apartments, I was almost unable to go from 10mph to zero before sliding out in front of a snowplow. A pedestrian jumped out into the street, and I came within three feet of running him over. And, while sitting at the light at Hamline and Larpenteur (three blocks from the previously mentioned Beatnik Coffees), some jackass in an SUV came within a few inches of unsuccessfully navigating his right turn.
I think Flanney might have overheard me saying, "It's fucking stupid that we're still delivering," because I was told my services were no longer needed for the evening shortly thereafter. Of course, by that point I didn't have the ground clearance to avoid dragging the snow even on the main streets, so I'm not arguing with that decision. I also opined to a couple of employees that Flanney doesn't understand legal liability, or he'd shut things down, but I'm pretty sure he didn't hear that.
Today, we broke every sales record in store history. Of course, that didn't help the drivers much, because we reached the point of being an hour late on deliveries, which dramatically cuts down on tips, despite the fact that we were driving in the ice and snow, and that the choke point wasn't us; it was the fact that the pizza bar simply couldn't make them as fast as the orders were taken. Flanney was back in the store, of course, which I suspect without actual evidence as part of the reason that we kept taking orders. We eventually told people that we couldn't take pizza orders, but the damage was done by that point.
By the time it was done, I was mad at everything and everyone. Over nine hours (I actually got a break from 3:00 to 4:00), I left the store with 21 orders totalling more than $1500 worth of food. I made $84 in tips. It was fucking Cheapskate Day, especially considering the conditions. Of course, I had to bring almost $300 in food back to the store, since by the time it finally arrived, the customers didn't want it. However, the guy who at 1:45 no longer wanted his fifteen pizzas that were due at 12:30 tipped me $20 for my trouble, so that isn't the reason it was such a crappy day.
Fortunately, tonight's manager, Jenny, told me to get lost at 9:00 even though we were still busy. Apparently, I looked as exhausted as I felt.
As an aside, delivering to universities is the absolute worst. All four customers who completely stiffed me were connected to one. Three students at a U of Minnesota dorm, and some professors at Hamline. Students are young and stupid, so I can understand if not forgive; it's made worse by the fact that UofM students can order food on their Flexdine account, so no money actually changes hands to remind them. The professors I have no fucking use for. They ought to know better, but clearly they don't. According to my father, who is a professor, I'm not the only one who has found that to be true; apparently his colleagues have the same problem.
Clearly, once I got home, whiskey was the only solution. Since I'm not depressed (just really fucking angry), that doesn't have the dangers that it sometimes does. The mostly empty bottle of Bushmills may not survive the evening
Update: I'm now out of Irish whiskey. The bottle served admirably for four months, but it proved to be not up to the task it was given tonight.
Last night, Flanney, the district manager, was in our store monitoring the situation. He just would not let us close down delivery, despite the fact that the roads had become a nightmare. I got to make all of the deliveries to the hilly areas, because I have all-wheel drive and the other drivers were in beaters. On my last two runs, I was almost in three accidents. Pulling out of the parking lot of the Lexington Arms Apartments, I was almost unable to go from 10mph to zero before sliding out in front of a snowplow. A pedestrian jumped out into the street, and I came within three feet of running him over. And, while sitting at the light at Hamline and Larpenteur (three blocks from the previously mentioned Beatnik Coffees), some jackass in an SUV came within a few inches of unsuccessfully navigating his right turn.
I think Flanney might have overheard me saying, "It's fucking stupid that we're still delivering," because I was told my services were no longer needed for the evening shortly thereafter. Of course, by that point I didn't have the ground clearance to avoid dragging the snow even on the main streets, so I'm not arguing with that decision. I also opined to a couple of employees that Flanney doesn't understand legal liability, or he'd shut things down, but I'm pretty sure he didn't hear that.
Today, we broke every sales record in store history. Of course, that didn't help the drivers much, because we reached the point of being an hour late on deliveries, which dramatically cuts down on tips, despite the fact that we were driving in the ice and snow, and that the choke point wasn't us; it was the fact that the pizza bar simply couldn't make them as fast as the orders were taken. Flanney was back in the store, of course, which I suspect without actual evidence as part of the reason that we kept taking orders. We eventually told people that we couldn't take pizza orders, but the damage was done by that point.
By the time it was done, I was mad at everything and everyone. Over nine hours (I actually got a break from 3:00 to 4:00), I left the store with 21 orders totalling more than $1500 worth of food. I made $84 in tips. It was fucking Cheapskate Day, especially considering the conditions. Of course, I had to bring almost $300 in food back to the store, since by the time it finally arrived, the customers didn't want it. However, the guy who at 1:45 no longer wanted his fifteen pizzas that were due at 12:30 tipped me $20 for my trouble, so that isn't the reason it was such a crappy day.
Fortunately, tonight's manager, Jenny, told me to get lost at 9:00 even though we were still busy. Apparently, I looked as exhausted as I felt.
As an aside, delivering to universities is the absolute worst. All four customers who completely stiffed me were connected to one. Three students at a U of Minnesota dorm, and some professors at Hamline. Students are young and stupid, so I can understand if not forgive; it's made worse by the fact that UofM students can order food on their Flexdine account, so no money actually changes hands to remind them. The professors I have no fucking use for. They ought to know better, but clearly they don't. According to my father, who is a professor, I'm not the only one who has found that to be true; apparently his colleagues have the same problem.
Clearly, once I got home, whiskey was the only solution. Since I'm not depressed (just really fucking angry), that doesn't have the dangers that it sometimes does. The mostly empty bottle of Bushmills may not survive the evening
Update: I'm now out of Irish whiskey. The bottle served admirably for four months, but it proved to be not up to the task it was given tonight.
posted by J. Michael Neal at 10:00 PM
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