Badly Treating Your Labor Force

(I’m working as a waitress and I need to get another enormous tub of ice cream. I’m very pregnant and can’t reach the high shelf it’s on in the walk in, so I bring another server back with me to help. The walk in is very deep with three doors on the way to the very back where the ice cream is kept. This section is the coldest. It’s kept at about 20 degrees. As we are leaving with the ice cream, the door won’t open.)

Me: “These don’t lock on their own, do they?”

Coworker: “No, they have padlocks. Otherwise they just push open.”

(We both shove against the door as hard as we can, but it won’t budge. We start banging and yelling for help, but there are three closed doors between us and the rest of the staff. We are locked back there for at least twenty minutes before a cook comes back. He opens the door laughing.)

Cook: “Haha, you should see the look on your faces! That was rich!”

Me: *shivering* “You locked us in? On purpose?!”

Cook: “Yeah! I didn’t mean to leave you in so long. We got busy. By the way, the manager is looking for you two. Your tables are pissed that you’ve been gone so long.”

Coworker: “You idiot! She’s nine months pregnant!”

(The cook walked away. We reported him to the manager, but the manager still blamed us for going back there in the first place. I proceeded to go into labor and have my baby four hours later. I would hate to think it was from the stress of being frozen and then written up!)