They Stop Caring The Second You Stop Working

I left a waitressing job at a well-known pancake chain shortly after graduating from college. I was moving halfway across the country for an internship that I was hoping would turn into a full-time job in my field. I gave my manager a proper letter with my two-week notice. He accepted it and said my last check would be mailed to me. I even saw the franchise location’s owner a few days before I left and had the following conversation.

Owner: “I hear you’re moving to New York City.”

Me: “I have a summer internship. I’m really excited about it!”

Owner: “If you need a job, there’s a [Restaurant] there. I could give you a recommendation.”

Me: “Thank you! I’ll keep that in mind.”

Owner: “Good luck with everything!”

All of this is to say that it was weird when I didn’t receive my last check in the mail. I called after a month and talked to a different manager who either hadn’t worked there when I’d been there or had worked different shifts.

Manager #2: “You just stopped showing up to work. We didn’t know what happened to you.”

Me: “I gave a two-week notice to [Manager #1].”

Manager #2: “Oh, he doesn’t work here anymore. I think we held your check for a few weeks, but when you didn’t come in, we sent it back.”

Me: “You can’t just send my check back. I worked that time.”

Manager #2: “We only hold checks for a few weeks.”

Me: “What do I need to do to get it?”

Manager #2: “You could come in and talk to [Owner].”

Me: “I’m in New York! I can’t come in.”

Manager #2: “I don’t know what to tell you. You shouldn’t have just stopped coming to work.”

Me: “I gave a two-week notice!”

Manager #2: “I haven’t seen that.”

I called my dad, who lived in the area, and he was furious. He went to the restaurant to talk to the owner and got the same runaround. I shouldn’t have left without notice. My check got sent back.

Finally, the owner produced a check from somewhere and gave it to my dad. I don’t know if he “found” the one that “got sent back” or if it was a new check.

Dad: “This isn’t enough money.”

Owner: “That’s what she earned.”

Dad: “It was for two weeks. This can’t possibly be all she made for two weeks.”

The owner pulled two twenties out of his own wallet and shoved them at my dad.

Owner: “There! Is that enough money for you?”

The funny thing is, the check was probably right; waitresses don’t make a lot. I think the owner just wanted my dad out of there.

I’m still baffled by the whole thing, though. I spoke to the owner right before I left. He wished me luck and said he’d give me a recommendation. I honestly don’t know if he completely forgot about that interaction or just thought he could get away with not giving me my last check since I was moving so far away.