tool shed

Normally, my job is pretty easy. I've worked with many of my co-workers for a long time, and we generally get along pretty well. When I do something dumb, they're quick to forgive me, and I am willing to let things go if someobdy wrongs me. (not showing up for work, slacking off, goofing around when I'm trying to work, whatever) Usually the whole process takes five minutes.

This being said, one of the supervisors (J) is the biggest joke I've ever seen. Monday evening, we had a sudden rush of people at about 7:30 pm; the restaurant was probably 2/3 full in 10 minutes. There were only two of us left on the floor, and this made for a mad dash around the restaurant, my only goal to get all my orders taken so that the "where's my damn waiter?" faces would be wiped away.

Customers are generally indifferent to a sweating, out-of-breath waiter:
"Are you... ready... to... order?"
1: "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm.... I don't know, Margie, are you?"
2: "Ohhhhh.... I don't knooooooowwwwww...... Are you ready? I don't think I am, but I could decide in a minute.....
"
"I can... (catches breath) come back...?"
1: "No, no..... we're ready... I think................... I'll have........ gosh, there's so many things......."
2: "I think I'll.... yeah, I think I'll have the salmon."
"Great. Which two dinner sides would you like?"
2: "Oh, you get sides? I hadn't even looked at those. Where are they? Goodness, there's so many!!!"

Meanwhile, I can hear the couple at the table next to my time-burglars drumming their fingers on the table, waiting not-very-patiently.

So taking the orders takes plenty of time in and of itself. If I had to run all my beverages and all my food, it would have been an unmitigated disaster. Luckily, J was not working. The supervisor and the hosts coordinated to make sure all my tables had their beverages before I even got there, and that my trays were taken out when they were ready if I wasn't there to take care of them. They probably lightened my workload by a third, sometimes even going back and forth to get the random items people want after you bring their food (more ranch dressing, napkins, ketchup, more ranch dressing, refills, and one more side of ranch dressing, please). If they hadn't, I would've been sunk.

If J had been working, he would have seated every table, told me and the other waitress where they were seated, and then gone back up to the lobby and told another story to the hosts about one of his many girlfriends, or about how much protein he needs to consume to get bigger muscles, or something. If things had gotten really out of hand, he would have gone back to help the cooks. He would not have gotten anything for any of the tables, and would have left us to ask him and the hosts for help (not really feasible when you've got ten things to do.) So, all I can say is praise be that he wasn't there to sink us.

So that's the kind of guy he is. A week ago, it was 10 pm, two hours away from closing. There were maybe six tables in the restaurant, and the pantry was clean and stocked, so the other waitress and I decided that one of us could go home. I owed her a chance to close alone, but she said she'd made enough money and would let me stay. I asked J if we could let her go, and this is what went down:

J: "Go ahead. It sounds like you made the decision anyways, I don't know why you're asking me."
me: "You're the boss; I just wanted you to be on the same page."
J: "If we were on the same page, I'd send both of you home."
me: (brings out stuff, comes back) "Hey, go for it. I've closed alone when I've supervised and it's been slow."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

J: "Do you want to go home?"
me: "Not especially, that's why I said I'd stay."
J: (points to waitress) "You stay." (points to me) "You go home."
me: "That's ridiculous! What are you gonna do, write me up? What for?"
J: (shouting) "If you get written up, it's your job. You'll get fired. Do you really wanna lose your job over this? I don't want to hear any more of your smart comments!"
me: (thinks about it, remains silent, clocks out, goes home)

So I talk to the general manager the next morning. A couple days later, she sits us both down to "hear both sides of the story." J gets there before I do and spends ten or fifteen minutes speaking heatedly to her. She calls me over and sits me down, telling me in very nice language that she doesn't especially want to hear my side of the story. I am then dressed down for having the audacity to "smart off" to my supervisor after he decided to send me home.

GM: "Anything you want to say?"
me: ".....no, I guess not."
J: "I want to hear what he has to say. I think he's got a lot of stuff on his mind."
me: "You sure?"
J: "Yeah."
me: "Okay. I think you're a terrible supervisor. I don't think you have the chops to manage people. You yell at my customers, you yell at the emp---"
J: "Okay, let me get a couple of things straight. I'm not the only one who yells or screws around. The one time I yelled at someone else, I had a valid reason...(continues talking for several minutes about specific instances in the past). I respect you, dusty, because I can rely on you. I know my servers, and I know that I can make the floor a specific way that plays to your strengths. I know that I can put kelsey in section 1 and you in section 2 every night and you'll both do fine, because you're my strongest servers."

(what J apparently doesn't realize is that kelsey HATES section 1 and will desperately try to give it away. I'm never in section 2; that's kelsey's favorite section. I always end up someplace else. I'm not sure if J is just making this up as he goes, or if he just misspoke, or what, but even though he might look like he knows what's going on, he's just revealing his ignorance/indifference.)

J: "....(talks a while)...do you have anything else?"
me: (thinks a second) "...nope. Look, I just want to wait my tables, get my tips, and go home. Can I go now?"

After this, I considered the matter closed. J and I worked together that night, made a couple of jokes, and he let me go without even checking my clean-up work at the end of my shift. (I left a bunch of silverware unwrapped..naughty naughty!) Since then, we've been on decent terms.

When I was talking to the GM the first time about J's psycho-freak-out, one of the kitchen supervisors came up and said that he could hear J freaking out from in the dining room. J was not very happy that someone else came to my defense, and tracked the other kitchen supe down at his OTHER job to yell at him and declare their friendship over. Whatever; I want to stay as far away from that conflict as I can.

Two nights ago, somebody slashed J's tires when he was at work. That's pretty dumb; I mean, I think the guy's a tool shed, but that's no reason to make him spend another 300 bucks on another new set of tires.