All of the managers where I work are complete and utter fucking dunderheads, to put it nicely.
I work in fast food, and like the majority of fast food chains, we have a drive-through. Unlike the majority, however, we do not use our speaker-box and have to go outside to take orders. If it’s hailing, or there’s a dust storm, or even if our restaraunt were to be nuked, we would still be expected to go outside and get the order. This process sometimes takes up to five trips. Ten percent of our customers tip us. Just ten percent, while we sweat blood and tears, get sunburnt, and dehydrate ourselves by constantly switching between cool air and that awful dry heat. Did I mention that I live in Texas?
Some of our customers assholes will pass our menu board, and instead of pulling up to our window they pull up a whole foot past their front bumper and stop, causing us to still have to walk outside to get their order. These people never tip us.
So today it was around 8:30, and I notice someone pulling past the menu board. I open the drive-through window, and slightly tilt.my head out. The car stops so that their window was less than a foot from mine. He’s texting, so I wait. A minute later he pulls up just to order a seventy-five cent sweet tea. He pays, I give him a tea, and the evening manager comes in from her smoke break. She says to me, “Did I just see you wait for that customer to pull up? You can’t do that, you have to go outside and get their order. Get off my clock, go home.”
I was supposed to work until ten. She was that angry with me for doing my job. It’s funny, since the managers sit on their fat asses and don’t do a lick of work, if one

——
I don’t remember what I was getting at, since James started to massage my sore feet and I dozed.off. It would be a waste not to post this, so here it is.