We’ll start with the good stuff, because even though this post will pretty much be just a rant, there were positive highlights leading up to it.
My coworkers are all fantastic people. They are funny as hell and interact like one big family, which is what I like to see in a laidback place like Subway. We can all talk so comfortably around one another, and someone is always trying to help out someone else.
The “eating” rules are awesome; every employee is entitled to a free six-inch during every shift, along with unlimited free drinks and any cookies they desire. Pretty nice, right? Even though it took me days to even build up the confidence to make myself a sub in front of the other employees. For whatever reason, I had convinced myself that I was too new to jump into the eating and refreshment rules with everyone else there. Nowadays I’m making my sandwich within the first hour of my shift and grabbing a drink from the fountains. Woo, me!
Now we can get to the bad stuff. Hold on to your butts!
See, the only reasons I applied for this job were: 1. I needed the money (duh). 2. The boss promised that I could work morning hours. It was on paper and everything. Hell, the first thing they told me was that they were in desperate need of morning workers.
So I would go into work around eight AM and come home around three PM. Not bad, right? I needed those morning hours as badly as the boss needed morning workers. I despise the idea of staying home all day, then going to work all night. Therefore, I chose the opposite. It just works better with my own schedule and my family’s schedule, as well.
Everything was all fine and dandy for the first half of the month. Until all freaking hell broke loose and the boss decided to come up to me one day and say, “Sara, I’m going to put you on the evening hours, now.”
What?! Sorry, come again? “Evening hours”? What the fuck happened to my permanent morning hours?! You know, that you wrote down on my official application papers and wrote on the official work schedule??
“You said that I could work morning hours,” I replied. “That’s what we agreed on. Weren’t you in desperate need of morning workers?”
“Well, yeah, I was. But there’s not anything for you to do in the morning.”
“I do plenty in the morning. That’s when we have to stock and clean up, along with handling the breakfast rush. We can get pretty busy.”
“The thing is, I wanted to train you, myself.”—That was her argument. She wanted to train my herself, regardless of the fact that she goes home or to college after twenty minutes of hanging out at Subway. She hasn’t trained me a single day since I got there! Everyone else has! I know the restaurant better than she does at this point, yet she’s switching my hours to “train me”.
I was stunned silent, so I just went with it. She said to call her and let her know if there are any issues with this new setup. If so, we can “figure something out”.
Here’s the kicker: This woman doesn’t even show up to my new evening hours! I’m there with two evening employees, and surprise, they’re training me. My boss isn’t even there! So much for that argument, huh?
So now I’m stuck with screwed up hours, my own schedule and my family’s are all messed up, I’m definitely planning on talking with the “boss” about this so we can “work something out”. I’m not even excited to come in to work anymore. This is not what I signed up for. Literally.