Every restaurant/coffee shop owner I’ve ever worked under has said the phrase “it doesn’t go bad.” Coffee shop, taqueria, burger joint. Always in reference to something that absolutely goes bad.
At least one coworker has said the word faggot, in some cases managers, at every food service job I’ve ever had.
The cashier wants to do the easy thing too; if they could they would. If you’re frustrated with a weird payment rule, it’s because the cashier has been told to do it that way. The cashier handles outrage over this dumb policy everyday. They would change it to the one that makes sense in a heartbeat.
Rude customers generally either don’t know they are being rude, or don’t consider what they’re doing rude. So you don’t really know if you’re a rude customer or not. If you look down on food service as an occupation, you are undoubtedly a rude customer. Otherwise, you don’t know. It doesn’t hurt to be extra nice just in case.
My roommate’s pop band is practicing Let’s Get It On by Marvin Gaye. It feels wrong. This song shouldn’t be rehearsed, it should just happen. No band has ever “rehearsed” this song, they have just suddenly been playing it perfectly. There are no chords, only the ghostly influence of loving sexual urges moving your hands for you. When your band is made to play this song by the overwhelming force of the universe, you all are now wearing matching sequins blazers. Your mind is not concerned with tempo or key change, only respectful declarations of love and affection towards the one you love; consent, passion, admiration, humanity.
So don’t fucking practice this song.
Wow, thank you for saying nice things about that song. That feels really encouraging and good. Thank you!
One of my coworkers greets every single female customer as “Ms. Pretty.” Without fail, if he is on register and there is a line of 10-20 people, every single woman will be greeted as Ms. Pretty. Additionally, he never waits for the last woman to be out of earshot to begin the next transaction. So very often a woman will be very surprised and sometimes flattered to be greeted as Ms. Pretty, only to hear the woman behind them greeted in the exact same way. He does not even wait for them to leave the counter or receive their order. I will often see this sequence of events about to happen, and cannot help but stand and watch. The laugh of surprise, the order given with a smile, the change received, and then the face of realization.
His voice is a little effeminate, and the phrase comes off more as a pleasantry than a cat call. Often, the robotic compliment will not hit. Not every woman likes their value to be judged by their appearance, and many especially don’t give a shit what strangers have to say about their looks. They clearly do not like it. My coworker is not phased by this, and doesn’t even seem to notice.
The more I work with him, I will watch his behavior to try and assess how aware of the world and his surroundings he is. He often seems on his own planet. He forgot my name one day and I told him it was Stephen. He calls me Stephen now, and I never correct him. Managers will call me Alex within earshot, and I will respond. He has never caught on.
I cannot help but obsess over people like this; I am so constantly aware of everything I do and so worried that I am socially fucking up all the time. When I meet someone who seems so oblivious, it is like I can’t turn away. It is fascinating.
"Hi there Ms. Pretty what can I get you?"
"Of course you can. That’ll be.."
"Thank you, you enjoy your day Ms. Pretty…Hi there Ms. Pretty what can I get you?"
It is insane.