I’m Not a Loner; I’m Just Allergic to Stupidity

Most people saw me sitting by myself when I went to my vo-tech in high school.  I was home schooled during the morning, then went to my tech school in the early afternoon.  Of course, I was the only home schooled girl in my class, and all the public school girls brought their drama.  They talked about things that were too much to say in such company.  Needless to say, I was not interested in listening to their unsavory discussions, so I asked my teacher if I could sit off on my own and listen to music on my phone.  I didn’t make a lot of friends with girls in my class.  I was actually friendly with several kids who weren’t in my class, but were in my Skills USA group.  They talked about similar topics with me, and were smarter than my fellow classmates and more polite.

I’ve never been patient with stupid/uncultured people.  My father’s tendencies (which he passed onto me) do not allow for that.  With a few exceptions, I don’t really work with stupid people.  All my siblings are like me; some to lesser extents, but they still have it.  We practice on each other to sharpen our repartee and our sardonic wit.  At my restaurant, I have to deal with stupid customers, not stupid coworkers.  However, when I go to the dentist, I pray that the front desk won’t f*ck up my doctor’s schedule.  If they do, that’s when I pray to God to give me the strength not to kill them, and to protect my IQ level.

The meme that’s above?  I found it while just looking for funny quotes to make me laugh.  I showed it to my younger sister, who is just as ruthless as I am, and she burst out cackling.  Sometimes that’s all it takes to lift my spirit if I’m feeling down.  Laughter is a medicine in and of itself.  Sarcasm is just a specific type of antibiotic for life.

And on that note, it’s been real!

DRAMA: Damn Repulsive Attitude Maintenance Adjustment

Apparently the shit has metaphorically hit the fan at work this past week.  I went into work on Monday night, but suffered from a stomach cramp on Tuesday, so I didn’t go in.  On Wednesday night, I went out for a drink with the receptionist I trained.  We met at a local restaurant and she told me something that happened on Tuesday when I was out.

The assistant who is training me and one of the hygienists have not been getting along with the two front desk ladies, and had been talking about them behind their backs, and smiling whenever they dealt with them.  I don’t like talking shit behind somebody’s back.  I’m more likely to just ignore them entirely.  Anyway, the dipshit one confronted her in her room when she didn’t have a patient and asked her what the problem was.  The hygienist played dumb, and I wouldn’t have done that if I were her.  I would have been honest and told her what the problem was.  The receptionist mentioned the name calling and the general bad mouthing; but then she also mentioned the Facebook pictures she stupidly posted of her ‘vacation’.  She said that we, the hygienist and I, tried to get her fired.  The hygienist apparently started screaming, regardless of patients in the office.  A dentist heard, and then there was a meeting downstairs.

I am grateful my girl told me advance, otherwise I would have been surprised going in last night.  If anything was said to me directly or if I was dragged into a meeting, I’ll be sure to post something about it on Monday.  If the moron receptionist tries to talk to me about the pictures and getting her fired (I think I know who blabbed about it too), I’ll be sure to give her a piece of my mind.  And I hope she chokes on it.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Let My Fist Meet Your Face

Alright, so Friday from 8:00-3:00, I was at my dentist office, training and working and getting knowledge.  My doctor came in at 9:00, so I worked sterilization, set up his room, and made sure all the materials were present for a crown prep.  His schedule was full all morning, but he only had one person in the afternoon after our lunch.  Myself and the other assistant were kind of hoping to leave a little early (I did have an errand to run before my second job, and he had to finish packing for moving).  We were in the middle of doing the patient after lunch, when one of the receptionists put a patient’s chart into our bin.  She had added somebody to our schedule.  It was a crown insert, but neither me, or the other assistant knew where the crown was.  He immediately went up from and asked them where it was.  I was just as annoyed as him by it.  Never call a patient, tell them their appliance is in the office, without to checking to see if it’s actually there!  We were getting ready to have them call the patient back and reschedule, when the lab case was finally produced.  I was still very annoyed.

The second blunder was a walk-in that was slapped into the schedule.  Now, I know I’ve said in a previous post that walk-ins are the dumbest people around for not using their phones and making official appointments like normal folks.  This grandma came in and was complaining about a cold sore on her lip, and the receptionist put her in my doctor’s schedule.  I almost had a coronary.  I never allowed walk-ins (with stupid requests) to slide into the schedule.  Why?  Because I wasn’t about the waste the doctor’s time when the person could just go to a pharmacy and get cold sore cream!  My doctor saw her, and she did spend most of the appointment, talking to him about every day sh*t.

Then, the manager grabbed me and the other assistant, saying the front desk was getting a negative aura from us.  Myself and the other assistant were confused.  We asked her to clarify and she said, “They feel like you’re angry at them for doing their jobs.”  No, I’m not mad at them for doing their jobs; I’m mad at them for doing their jobs wrong!

I don’t know which one spoke up about the ‘negative ambiance’, but I intend to find out and set some records straight.  That conversation ticked me off on Friday, and I believe that me and the other assistant got our wrists slapped for no reason.  Take the blame, don’t shift the blame.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Happy Place

This past weekend, there must have been an Idiot Special at our restaurant, because a lot of idiots showed up.  I was working overtime to not explode and kill somebody.  First off, somebody came up with the smart idea of placing our sign out in the atrium instead of behind me, where people ‘mysteriously’ manage to miss seeing it every time.  Now out in the atrium, I turn it around so that it says, ‘Please wait to be seated.’  It’s the first thing a person sees when they walk in.  And they still choose to ignore it.

The one question you don’t ask the person who is clearly the hostess is, “Can we just seat ourselves?”

“Oh, sure!  Go ahead!  It’s not like I have a job to do here or anything.”  That’s what I want to say at any rate.  The rate that this question was asked this weekend was phenomenal.  Everyone must have taken their stupid pills!  There were also a lot of large parties this weekend and that of course put us on a wait for tables.  Humans seem to have this nasty habit of challenging me when I tell them that we are on a wait.  “The wait for a table of four is half an hour.”

“Thirty minutes?!”

“Yes, thirty minutes.”

“Are you sure we can’t just squeeze in-?”

“Oh, yes!  I’m sure.”  People do that to me all the time, as if I’ll suddenly change my story.  I’d love to change the octave they’re currently talking at.  With a swift kick between the legs.  Then… there are the five tops.  I just don’t get it.  I can understand it if it’s a family with three kids; that makes sense.  But when it’s five friends out for the night, I’m kind of like, “Who wanted to be the fifth wheel?”  And then they try to finagle a table and add a chair, I’m like, “No.”

“But we can make it work,” they plead.

“And then you’ll complain to the server, and they’ll come up to me, saying you want to switch tables.  Not setting myself up for that, *sshole,” I say under the simple, “I don’t have an extra chair.”  I did actually have people I sat at a table when they were going to be three.  They were right by me at the front and when I came back to my post, the woman leaned over.

“Hey, I have a request,” she said.  I gave her the ‘really?’ look, but she continued, “Can you put us on your wait list for a table of… (has trouble doing basic math)… seven?  We invited some people over.”  Okay, first of all, that should have been the plan at the beginning of the evening, not a spur of the moment thing.  I know, sometimes a friend says they can’t come, then a few hours later, ask if they can come.  But, if you’re going to a restaurant and ask for a table for one number, then suddenly up that number on the hostess and your server, they are going to hate you.  Needless to say, I gave the woman an incredulous look and she just gave me a stupid smile.

“Okay… it’s going to be close to an hour,” I told her.  And I wasn’t just saying that to mess with her.  I was on a half hour wait for parties of four or smaller.  She was slapping me with a party of seven last minute.  But as for the picture overhead, the reason for that was because on that same night, I got a four top while I was in the middle of my long wait.  They wanted a low table for Grandma, and I gave them the wait.  They didn’t believe the wait time, and I had to tell them in a dumbed down version.  Finally, they said they would seat and in our lounge with a low coffee table and booth seats instead of regular chairs.  First, the one man came out and asked us to turn the fireplace on in there.  We still consider it sort-of summer in the restaurant business, and my manager was all against it.  Afterward, I just heard the server complaining about how needy and demanding they were.  When the ladies left, the two men stayed behind and grabbed my manager again.

“I don’t have a problem with you, but…” and everything before ‘but’ is bullsh*t.  My manager took them aside, defended our position and they left in a huff.  They did not acknowledge me when I told them to have a goodnight.

“And don’t let the door hit you in the *ss on the way out,” I mumbled to myself.

And on that note, it’s been real!