Wednesday, February 26, 2014

*use your imagination*

I cannot even recount how badly I failed tonight working at the Little League Snack Shack.

It started right off the bat.  

(pun not intended)

I got the keys from the person in charge, then unlocked the Snack Shack.  I went inside, looked at the list, and started to put ice in the two buckets containing Gatorade and water bottles.  I thought that the Gatorade and water bottles were separated.  

I had put ice into one bucket when I realized that the Gatorade and water bottles were NOT separated.

*use your imagination*

The other person working didn't arrive until 3:30, and by then I was trying to help two customers--an older man with whom I'm assuming is his granddaughter.  They wanted peanuts.  And a soda.  It took me a long, awkward period of thirty seconds to figure out that we didn't have any peanuts.  It took me another long, awkward period of thirty seconds to communicate that we didn't have any peanuts.

I also think that he wanted Diet Coke.  Then I had to figure out how to get what they wanted.  First you have to ask what kind of soda they want, then you have to ask what size they want, then I asked if they wanted ice--he said a little--so I put a little bit in and gave it to him.  Then he looked at it and asked me if I could fill it up just a little bit more, so I did.  Then you have to calculate the cost and correlate the bill, and let me just say this: I am horrible at math.

*use your imagination*

I had had no training previously.  I didn't know that you had to spray water on the pretzels to make the salt stick; the pretzel machine did nothing more than make the pretzels look like ballerinas (i.e., twirling).  It was like an EZ-Bake Oven--a stinkin' lightbulb to heat eight frozen-solid kill-another-person pretzels.

We had to use the microwave to heat the pretzels up, and when there's two windows, one microwave, and two people ordering pretzels at the same time, you're bound to have somebody wait.  Awkward...

And while I was still in the weird stages of figuring things out, a man walks up, gives me a twenty, and wants ten pieces of bubble gum (fifty cents).  I give him EIGHTEEN-FIFTY, and he tells me, TWENTY DOLLARS MINUS FIFTY CENTS.

I grabbed a dollar, making his change SEVENTEEN-FIFTY.  (I wasn't thinking).

YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME A DOLLAR, he added, very graciously.

I gave him the two dollars and apologized profusely, but he said it was all right.  Which made me feel even worse, for some reason.

Then another kid walks in along with us two girls who were working there.  I don't know what he's doing here, but he grabs a couple of Snickers bars, makes himself nachos, and says something along the lines of, "I think I'm supposed to be working here."

Then he walks out, supposedly coming back later, only he NEVER DOES.

I make a couple of more mistakes with the change stuff, people correct me, and again I apologize profusely.  They say it's all right, and I feel even worse.

Yay, I've gotten into a groove.

My dad orders a churro, and I give it to him, only to have him give it back to me and say, "You didn't put sugar on this."

I WAS SUPPOSED TO PUT SUGAR ON IT?!?!  I thought it came like that!

So I do.

Thank goodness he was the first one to order a churro.  Or else I would've given people tasteless pieces of frozen dough.

Oh, and I put the nacho cheese into this giant container that looked kind of shady.  I asked the other girl, who'd worked there before, and she said to put the cheese directly in there (she was busy with a customer, though, I think).  Later, when we're cleaning up, they tell me I'm NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT.  I'm supposed to use a LINER.  Which I would've known had I read the DIRECTIONS they left me, only I was DUMB and DIDN'T.

I hope I didn't give those people salmonella or something.  

*use your imagination*

What if I gave those people salmonella, which turned into an epidemic, which pinned me as the culprit because I was the one trying to heat up the cheese?  What if they all died because of me, and I'd have to go to twenty funerals, and then go through a ton of depression and such because of what I did?

*using my imagination here*

And then there was the licorice thing.  For fifty cents, you're supposed to give them "six or seven."

How much is six or seven???  I grab something randomly out of the bowl, but I don't want to, like, count every single one!  But what if I gyp the poor kids?  Or what if I give them too much and the Little League dies from financial ruin because of me?

*using my imagination*

My brother--thank goodness--swooped in, volunteered, and saved the day.  I gave him five dollars of my twenty-five.

I also spill a slushie, make a slushie with the wrong flavor, and keep a poor kid waiting fifteen minutes for his cinnamon-sugar pretzel.


I probably did a lot more wrong.

*use your imagination*

But then, God's grace is abundant.  Thank goodness.  I probably cheated, lied, stole, and a bunch of other stuff today.  Inadvertently, of course.  But still.

*thank you, Jesus*
*John 3:16*

Upside?  By the end, I was cranking out pretzels and hot dogs like a machine.

I adjusted.  And next time I work at the Snack Shack, I'll be a lot better.   So drop by.  Just don't order more than two items, please.  And don't order the Cup O' Noodles (they splatter and take three minutes to cook).  Or the popcorn.  Or the nonexistent peanuts.  Or anything that requires a fork (because we currently don't have any forks).  And if your pretzel is tough, be a man and eat it up.  And if your churro doesn't have any sugary taste on it...

use your imagination.

(Or just tell me to put sugar on it).

1 comment:

  1. Aww..that's really sad to hear, but I bet you'll do a wonderful job next time you work at that Snack Shack!