Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Snack Shack Probz 2.0

Yaaaaay, I survived!

Understandably, I had butterflies in my stomach right before I went to work at the Little League Snack Shack.  Since I'd had some problems earlier (read about them in this post) that led to my pride (read more about my pride problems in this post), I was rather worried about the outcome of Saturday's shift.  

But then there's the factor: I learned a lot from the Wednesday Snack Shack shift.  And that fueled any hope I may have had prior to the shift.

On Saturday, those things I learned on Wednesday came into fruition.

Saturday was basically heaven compared to my first day.

Because I knew what to expect--and because I'd brought a calculator--I was much better prepared this time around :D  (And the nacho machine wasn't ruined, and I don't think anybody got salmonella.  At least, I hope not).  I also learned a lot.  For example, I learned that you have to restock the slushie machine with syrups and ice, and that we still need to get more peanuts.  I learned that the pretzels have to be warmed up in the microwave, then heated up in a thing we used to heat up the churros last last Wednesday, and then "warmed" in the EZ-Bake-Oven-Look-Alike Case.

Only one lady corrected me on the total,.  Step up from the ten thousand people who were correcting my mistakes on Wednesday.

Ugh, today was so much better than Wednesday.  Much better.  I felt like a pro--I knew the prices off of the top of my head, I could give change quicker.  There were also more people, so I didn't have to man the windows as much.

And I had time to enjoy the quirks of some of the customers that went by.

For example, three older-ish ladies came by and ordered a hot dog, a couple of drinks, a couple of pretzels, and three of our gigantic pickles.  (Yes, we have pickles).  The customers seemed to have an intriguing affinity for pickles, because the lady who ordered the hot dog wanted relish too (only we didn't have that).

Finally!  Somebody (or three somebodies) who share my passion for sour food!  Only I don't really eat pickles that look like this:

Yes, the pickles looked like that.  

I prefer them at the Corner Bakery, served in quarters with non-greasy kettle chips and panini sandwiches.

Another time, one of the customers--a kid maybe ten or eleven years old--walked up and gave me a list of stuff.  (Yeah, a list.  I took out the calculator to be ready).  It went something like:

A pretzel
Two Diet Cokes
Sunflower seeds
A Gatorade

It wasn't too bad, only there was the matter of payment to be considered.  The total came out to about nine dollars.  He nodded, gave me three dollars in paper, and proceeded to give me the six remaining dollars in quarters.

Conveniently, we had just run out of quarters.  But it wasn't a nice thing to scoop all of those quarters up from a metal countertop.  (One of my pet peeves is when metal clashes against metal.  It was a great way to explain myself out of unloading the silverware, but not so great when a kid gives you, like, twenty-four quarters.)

When littler kids mispronounce/have accents, don't you think it's adorable?

I think it's pretty cute, except for when they're ordering stuff.  Then it gets plain old embarrassing.

There was this one little kid--probably at Coach Pitch or Single A level--who asked for a cheerio. (When I first heard him ask, I was all, Um, we don't serve Cheerios here, sorry.  Anything that reduces the risk of heart disease is strictly off-limits here. After one or two repeats, however, I figured out he was asking for a churro.

What's more, he came back and asked for a cheerio again.  He had to repeat it once more, because, as I said before, I'm a little S-L-O-W.

Churro, not cheerio.

There was also another kid who looked perfectly healthy.  He asked for a lemonade.  I told him inadvertently that it was a slushy; he then stated, "Well, since I'm sick, I probably shouldn't eat frozen stuff."


Has there been some newfangled collegiate-level study about how frozen food promotes the contamination and circulation of lytic viruses or something?  Or maybe his reasoning was, since I'm sick, I don't want to get cold, so I don't want to get more sick.

I'm still kind of confused though.

He asked for a Coke instead.

Then he came back after a little bit and asked for another drink.

I think maybe it was because I gave him ice with his Coke.

Gargoyles, I'm really clueless sometimes, aren't I?

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