Hello, ladies and gents, lesbians, butches, gays, and you other hot tamales (;
Today was my first day of work at, DUN DUN DUN, Subway. It only took a month of paperwork, car trips, and gas money to get to this point…Buuut, the point is, I’m working now, and today was my first day! Where to start…the manager had told me to come in at eleven AM to start my shift. Wanting to be seen as eager to start, I showed up early. No, not by five or ten minutes. I went in half an hour early, while the manager herself and another employee were handling the breakfast crowd. (Hah, “crowd”). I came in the door wearing the black slacks and black non-slip shoes the manager asked me to purchase. I had also worn a black t-shirt to wear under my uniform, so I was more of a vision in black than the ray of sunshine I anticipated to look like. Oh, well. The manager walked across the restaurant to wear I was standing and handed me two plastic bags containing an apron and a green shirt. Holy shit, the Subway uniform. Without giving any further directions on what to do, she then walked away and went back to serving sandwiches, leaving me standing there clutching the bags like a life vest in rough waters.
After five minutes of standing there, I figured, “Maybe I should put these on.” I rewarded my genius with a quick run to the restroom, where I slipped into the shirt and apron and finished the ensemble with the black Subway ball cap. Fierce. I glanced in the mirror and did the usual I-look-like-a-complete-dork-but-I’m-getting-a-paycheck-for-this expression, then swept myself back into the restaurant like a graceful eagle, but I’m pretty sure I just stumbled in looking like a hunter-green penguin with a bad knee. Do penguins have knees?
I was assigned to dish-duty for the first hour, in which I totally kicked ass. Those dishes were cleaned like never before (maybe they haven’t been cleaned before…?). I did other tasks such as going to fetch the boxes of bread to defrost and put in the warmer, as well as sweep the main floor where the employees stood when they made the sandwiches. Not even two hours into the job did I get a “special request” to emerge from the shadows of the dishwashing area and prepare a sandwich for a customer. I go out, confused, and who do I see?
My mother. Holding her phone and snapping pictures as she coos, “Look at my big girl working at her first job! There she is!” *click* *click* *click*
Yeah, I get it; it’s cute to have your parents come in on your first day. Maybe I would have been a little friendlier if they would have at least told me. Instead, I came into the sandwich area with hands wrinkled from dish soap, hair a mess under my hat, and practically limping from the work shoes I wasn’t used to wearing. Lovely.
The employee beside me had a blast, but the manager was not amused because I hadn’t even touched the food all day. I was a dishwasher five minutes ago why am I even setting foot in the sandwich area? But she sent me out with a sigh, and I pulled on some plastic gloves and turned to my customer. My mom was so busy taking pictures of me that I couldn’t even focus on the sandwich order without hearing, “Sara! Look! Smile! Look at you in your uniform…This is so exciting!”
Am I being an asshole, here? Probably.
I couldn’t even make the damn sandwich because I wasn’t even trained, yet. My coworker covered for me as I slumped back to the dishes and scrubbed away. He came back to tell me that they had gone, and to come back out and help when I was finished. I did, and lo and behold, it was the lunch rush. I slipped into another pair of gloves, smiled at the customer, and said, “Hello! What can I get for you today?”
The rest of the day was almost like a blur. All I remember is that I kicked total ass at making sandwiches, one after the other for the next hour and a half. Even the regular customers were impressed with me. They could tell I was new and took it easy on me, politely saying they would like more of something if I obviously didn’t put enough. Really nice people. I made sure to repeat the ingredients that the customer said, to make sure I didn’t do anything they didn’t want. The manager went past me a couple of times and murmered, “Good job,” which boosted my confidence tremendously. After a handful of customers left happily with their sandwiches, the manager turned to me and said, “Oh yeah, you’ve definitely got the job!”
After that, I swept a little, made some more sandwiches, and cleaned some more dishes. The manager left for the day, and I chilled with the other employees as the day winded down. Everybody was hilarious as they joked around and talked like family. It made my hardened Subway-hating heart warm up just a tad bit, though the restaurant didn’t have anything to do with it. What can I say?
So it looks like I’m a grade-A employee, and I’ll definitely be working there from now on. Blessing and a curse, this isn’t a fairytale, but I’m pretty damn happy right about now. The only downside is that my feet are killing me and I feel like my legs are going to fall off. Yep, lots of walking at this job.
Stay tuned for another addition of My Life Uncensored! Have a wonderful day, and stay gay!