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Parenting Is All About Timing

, , , , , , , | Related | CREDIT: Petallic | July 12, 2021

Twenty years ago, my brother lived by himself about an hour away from where my mum and I lived. We lived in a rural area, while my brother was in the nearest city. Whenever my mum had a need to go into the city, she would pick him up and they’d just spend time together.

He had a really bad habit on these occasions to wait until she was already there and then get out of bed, shower, get dressed, and then meet her outside. This process would take anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour, which would eat into the time mum was willing to spend in the city.

One day, Mum arranged to see him.

Brother: “Okay, just text me when you’re here.”

The next day, she texted him, “I’m here,” as she was leaving her house, an hour away from my brother. So, my brother got up, got showered and dressed, and went to stand outside, looking for her car. After waiting for fifteen minutes or so, he finally rang her to find out where she was parked.

Mum: “Parked? I’m not parked anywhere. I’m still driving.”

Brother: “But you texted me that you’re here.”

Mum: “I am here. You’re there. I will be there in about fifteen minutes. Are you ready?”

Brother: “Yes, I’ve been ready for fifteen minutes and waiting outside for you!”

Mum: “Oh, good. I won’t have to wait this time. See you in a moment!”

On that occasion, Mum was able to get on with her day immediately. In the future, my brother did end up being dressed in time for Mum getting there, but he is still perpetually and habitually late to this day, twenty years later. We still talk about this text every time my brother is late.

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It’s Drive-Thru, Not Drive-And-Come-Back

, , | Right | July 8, 2021

A woman comes in through the drive-thru first thing and orders some food. She comes to the window and pays for it.

Customer: “I’m just going to run to the bank real quick.”

The food was ready like ten seconds after she drove off. She came back five hours later without warning.

Customer: “Why is my food not ready and fresh? You should have known I was coming back!”

Her reason for taking so long? She had to get her hair and nails done.

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If You Wouldn’t Do It In A Department Store, Don’t Try It In A Yard Sale

, , , | Right | June 30, 2021

I’m having a yard sale to get rid of all of my old junk. A customer arrives at 7:20 am, even though it clearly states in my poster that the sale begins at eight.

Lady: “You’re open, right?”

Me: *Still putting up all the things* “No, the sale starts at eight.”

Lady: “There’s like five minutes until eight. Can’t I have a look a bit early?”

Me: “You can’t look around, but you could wait until eight.”

Lady: *Annoyed* “I don’t have time! I need to look right now! Open!

Me: “The sale doesn’t start until eight, so just wait for thirty minutes. You can’t look early.”

Lady: “Then I’m not buying anything! I ain’t giving my money to all of your junk!” 

The lady walked off, muttering stuff like, “Rude,” and, “No respect for the elderly!”

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Closing Off Coworker Relations

, , , , , | Working | June 29, 2021

[Coworker] and I tolerate each other. Not much more, not much less. My schedule lists that I am supposed to work 4:00 pm to 8:00 pm, and [Coworker] is supposed to work 2:00 pm to 9:00 pm (when we close). This isn’t new; in fact, it’s fairly regular business for her and me.

At around 4:30, [Coworker] goes to the boss’s office with the schedule book. I think nothing of it; the schedule for the week is done, and I figure that maybe she needs to talk about her weekend hours. Nothing is said to me, so I continue on with my day. 

Around 7:30, as we’re working on various closing procedures, [Coworker] starts telling me where stuff is. 

Coworker: “There’s still some beef out, but most of it is in the cooler.” 

Me: “Why are you telling me this?”

Coworker: “So you know.”

Me: “Know what?”

Coworker: “To put it away after I leave. Oh, that reminds me. Do you want me to count out that register before I leave?”

Me: “Uh, excuse me? I am leaving at 8:00 pm. You, [Coworker], are leaving at 9:00 pm after closing.”

Coworker: *Smugly* “Better check the schedule again.”

I go look at the schedule.

My hours now read 4:00 pm to 9:00 pm, and hers now say 2:00 pm to 8:00 pm. It’s in the boss’s handwriting, so it’s not like she doctored the schedule herself. He gave approval for the change and did not inform me before leaving for the day.

Me: “When did the schedule change?”

No answer, of course, just a continued smug smile. Then, she clocked out and left the store.

I ended up kind of freaking out and running around like a madwoman trying to get everything settled. I had closed before, sure, but always with a coworker, NEVER alone. I managed to pull it off and thankfully was able to leave through a door that would lock itself behind me when I left through it, but I was fuming through two glasses of wine that night.

The next day, I walked into the boss’s office and had a very serious talk with my boss about the situation that I was thrust into.

He told me that he had changed the schedule himself and forgot to tell me — or, as I suspect, he “forgot” — because he was in a hurry to get home. He had nothing to say about me telling him that [Coworker] had also not said anything to me about the change until almost 8:00. He just gave me some weak compliment about how he was really impressed with how well I did despite the “short notice” on my closing the store.

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The World’s Slowest Cheeseburger

, , , , | Right | June 25, 2021

I have the headset on during the third shift. We are fairly slow, with no one in drive-thru, as someone pulls up to the speaker.

Me: “Welcome to [Fast Food Restaurant]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “One minute.”

Me: “Okay.”

I wait about ten or fifteen seconds.

Me: “Could I help you find anything?”

Customer: “I’m looking.”

I wait silently. It takes about another thirty seconds for him to speak again.

Customer: “A cheeseburger.”

I ring up the sandwich.

Me: “Anything else?”

Customer: “Yeah. One minute.”

Another period of waiting. I am getting a little antsy. It’s been about a minute since he first pulled up, and he’s only ordered one thing. About twenty seconds later, he speaks up again.

Customer: “A chicken sandwich.”

Me: “One cheeseburger and one chicken sandwich. Anything else?”

Customer: “Yeah. I have more.”

Still more waiting. During this time, his side is completely silent — no discussion or kids or any usual reason as to why it’s taking him so long. As my order’s timer passes ninety seconds and goes red, indicating that the order has taken too long, he adds on another sandwich and goes silent again.

I am about done with this order already. He’s still the only one in the drive-thru, and I have things to get done, but I am waiting on him to finish making up his mind. I normally don’t mind people deciding what to get, but they usually take less time or are apologetic about taking too long.

Twenty seconds after the third sandwich — my timer is around 140 now — he adds a small fry. I add it, repeat the rest of the order, and ask if he has more on his order. He says, “Yeah, one minute,” and is silent.

The kitchen person can’t serve off the order from her screen until I store it from my computer. And since he’s not done ordering, I can’t store it.

Coworker: “What’s going on with the order?”

Me: “He’s taking forever.”

She rolls her eyes and goes back to getting the kitchen ready for breakfast.

My timer is now at 200, and he still hasn’t added anything new.

Me: “Was that everything for your order?”

Customer: “No, I have more.”

Silence. I am getting super annoyed now. More than two minutes to order three sandwiches and a fry, and he’s still not done. I glance up at the surveillance camera display in annoyance and see that another car is about to pull into the empty lane.

Me: “Okay, one double cheeseburger, one cheeseburger, one chicken sandwich, and one small French fry will be $6. Please pull to the second window.”

Customer: “Wait, I have more—”

I had already stored the order and switched to the other lane as the new car set off the sensor. I greeted her, she ordered, I repeated the order and told her the total, and she was at the second window before the first customer had even moved.

I kept my headset on the second lane, ignoring the first customer until he pulled forward. I told my coworker, who was at the window and had just finished serving the second car, that he might still have more to order. He changed the double cheeseburger to have no onion and no pickle, and that was all. He paid and left with his order.

He must’ve been in the drive-thru for roughly five minutes, give or take, for what should’ve been a one-minute order. But at least I could finally serve off his order and get back to stocking and cleaning.

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