Final Straw

This will more than likely be the final comic for talking about when I worked for the sub shop. One of the first things I experienced while working there was split shifts. They were the most moronic shifts I had ever had to work at any job before. What made me the angriest was the fact that I asked them not to put me on so many split shifts. I wouldn't have minded maybe working one or two a month, permitting the hours were proper enough to pay for the hassle, but no, I was given multiple ones in the same week even though almost every employee that worked there lived within five minutes of the store. As for me, I had to drive thirteen miles each way to get there, yet I was the one given every split shift.

I honestly would have loved it if they gave me double shifts instead. They never gave me those because I guess only managers were given that kinda shift. The last split shift I was given they wanted me to come in and work for two hours. Yes, two hours. Then they wanted me to come back three hours later to work the second shift. Coming in to work for TWO HOURS is RETARDED, I'm sorry. I asked other people for their opinion on the schedule and most of them said "Is the owner and scheduling manager braindead?" I told the manager I wouldn't work that shift, I even wrote on the schedule I wouldn't come in for two hours. At this point I really did not care if they fired me. Amazingly I was told I was fired when I came in for the second shift. Did I care? Why would I care? Working in a place that had faulty equipment, poor working conditions, understaffed all the time, certain employees who didn't work, almost always out of supplies, and then had to deal with ignorant customers on a daily basis for minimum wage I could care so little that if the place went of business I would not even be surprised -- I'd probably sneer in pleasure.

To be positive about this experience though I will say that almost everyone I worked with there, excluding the owner, a couple employees, and pretty much nine out of ten customers, I had a lot of fun talking with them and working along side them in the same business. It was interesting enough to make a series of comics about it so thanks to all those who made it a lot of fun.

With this comic concluded for the most part I do have another one in the making. It'll be about the time I took my driver's education course. That might sound like a boring comic, but believe me, from how I remember it you would have thought I had dropped into a John Hughes movie. So stay tuned for more.

Awkward Names

While working at the sub shop we were already understaffed and while I was there two more people ended up being fired, so by then we desperately needed extra employees. That meant it was time to put up the help wanted sign.

Now don't get me wrong, actually putting up a sign saying you're hiring is a great idea to find new workers, but around this place we had bums, druggies, and crazy people come in on a frequent basis. If you've been reading along with these comics you've probably already assumed that the area was full of these sorta folk to begin with. They rushed into the store nagging the hell out of Frank, who could only tell them to write their name, number, available hours, and perhaps any skills relating to the job on an order slip. Yes, an order slip. Why an order slip? Because the owner didn't seem to feel that THIS store needed printed out applications like the store he ran already had. There were so many scattered order slips littering the desk in the back and a large portion of them had really bizarre names that were sometimes impossible for us to even pronounce.

For those wondering, Waka Flocka was Frank's term for stupid, annoying, or aggravating people.

Solicitation

Those of you who have been following along should remember the autism junk food woman and how I declared that her sort of pushy tactics aggravate me to no end. I also mentioned someone who was almost worse because he was trying to sell me something in a very seducing, salesman manner, as if I were being told to buy a car or some expensive piece of jewlery I didn't need. This is how I remember it.

His skill was actually very high, so high in fact that at first when he came in to get a drink I thought he was actually being genuinely nice by starting a conversation with me. When he came in again and I realized he was holding a clipboard with him the inevitable became obvious. For starters, he was trying to talk to me at the counter after ordering something while there were other customers behind him. When I work, I like to work and work well, but this man was making this simple task a hassle. He started talking to Frank once Frank walked near the counter, which in turn let me take care of the other customers. Again though, I was forced to listen to his sales pitch of "free" which included "paying" which is oxymoronic. I actually walked off while he was talking once I was done wrapping the customer's sandwich -- that's why he said I ignored him. Even if I wanted a maintenance shop to go to for such things(things I already do on my own) the fact I had to drive thirteen miles each way would defeat the purpose of driving to another city every time I needed some simple maintenance done.