Saturday, October 3, 2009

Some days you eat the bear, some days he just shits on your head...

Yeppers. That was basically my morning. Went in at six...had a cater out to prepare for, no problem. Set up for breakfast, easy. Love working by myself anyway because I know I can count on me.

The "individual" responsible for the their part of the catering affair, finally drug her ass out of bed and arrived 10 minutes before the transport, wondering why I hadn't done "her" stuff.

"I've been here since six...where the hell were you?" And then we were off to the races. Apparently her inability to follow through and coordinate was supposed to constitute an emergency on my part. Who knew? Downhill on a rocket from there...Holy Crap.

An emergency birthday party for eight just somehow "showed up" and requested a list of baked items that would take at least two hours to complete. Along with the breakfast rush, and items somehow "forgotten" on her part for the cater out.

Oh yeah, then the produce order arrived.

I had given this "person" the order list the day before, striking through about 1200 dollars worth of goods we could get through different sources for about 500 dollars.

She ordered them anyway.

The last time we spoke she was demanding her dessert tray from yours truly for the cater out and I informed her the owner and I had taken care of the cookie situation. Thus followed the following discourse.

"I don't care who you talked to, it's your responsibility to make me what I need, and I..."

"Then make 'em your fuckin self!" That was mature of me.

I had to make them anyway, but she damn sure had to wait and I felt immensely better.

Then the texting from the ex-girlfriend started while I was wrestling with homemade lemon bar crust and I damn near lost my mind. But enough about that.

Soon I go to the other job, with professionals, and they can dog me like a rented mule if they need to. They have the right. They earned every bit of it.

Amateurs do not.

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