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A lot of the people I work with are highschool kids. For the most part, they're good workers, but a couple of them are pretty slack. Today, I had to work with one of the slackest, and also probably the most incompetent. I'll call him Jenga, because it's damned close to his real name.
Jenga is pretty new at work, but he's not that new. He's worked at the doughnut shop for about three weeks on a part-time basis, long enough to get all the basics down. But today, he showed he couldn't even do that.
Today was his first time on drive-through, the busiest, craziest part of the store. On a busy day, we have three people working drive-through. Today was one of those days. It was crazybusy, and Bob's job was to take the people's money and give them their orders.
Now the drive-through window opens by means of a beam. When a worker interrupts the beam, the window opens. If nothing blocks the beam, the window closes. Pretty simple, right?
Not simple enough for Jenga. While I was on coffee-making autopilot, I watched him get his head, his arm, and once, his torso get slammed in the window. "Jenga!" I said. "Put your hip on the edge of the counter. That way you won't get slammed." And then I demonstrated the very simple technique to him.
"Oh, right!" he said, completely ignoring my advice and getting another body part jammed once again.
Although he worked on drive-through for about four hours tonight, I don't think he ever figured out how not to get munched by the window, although I did see him experimenting with the beam, figuring out how it worked part-way through his shift.
While the other drive-through worker and I worked our arses off, Jenga goofed off, helping sporadically, but getting in the way most of the time. Every time he passed something out the window, he jostled me with his arse. I realize the workspace is pretty tight, but it's not that tight. And I was handling very hot liquids. As the night continued, as Jenga bashed me with his big old butt, and as I heard him say "Ow!" every time the windows munched on his arms, I grew crankier and crankier.
Partway through incompetently taking an order over the intercom system, he fucked off to go do something else. What he'd typed in was just plain wrong, and I had to ask the annoyed customer for their order for what was about the third time.
And then he started the horseplay. While a co-worker poured boiling water into a mug for tea, he stood behind her with an empty cardboard box over her head.
"No, Jenga!" I said. "That's dangerous. She has boiling water. Put that away."
He moped his way off into the kitchen to torment some poor soul back there.
Later, as I worked my butt off some more and watched him standing around like a big dolt, I asked if he could fetch some more coffee filters, as we were running out.
"Yeah, sure!" he said, and left.
When he returned some time later, no filters were to be seen.
I reminded him about the filters, and once again he left. Once again he returned without filters.
The third time I asked him, I knew it was pointless. But I asked him, anyway. I ended up going to get them myself, which slowed the production line down, but what could I do?
Another time, my other co-worker asked him to put on some fresh pots of coffee. He fucked that up, too. How is it possible for someone who's worked at a coffee shop for almost a month to not know how to make coffee? I'm perplexed.
A few times during the night, I was the only one working on drive-through because Jenga was AWOL. And I was much more efficient and speedy than when he was "helping" me.
The tips we received at drive-through were divided evenly three ways. I think they should've been divided in half, with none going to him. In fact, I think he should pay us all the tips he'd earned as restitution for all the mental anguish he put us through tonight. I realize he's new to drivethrough, but that doesn't explain the utter incompetence of him across the board. He's on par with the grocery store cashier who asked me what corn on the cob was a while back, and with the packers who like to put canned goods and bottles of bleach in the same bag as my bread.
If it were up to me, I'd fire his ass.
Jenga is pretty new at work, but he's not that new. He's worked at the doughnut shop for about three weeks on a part-time basis, long enough to get all the basics down. But today, he showed he couldn't even do that.
Today was his first time on drive-through, the busiest, craziest part of the store. On a busy day, we have three people working drive-through. Today was one of those days. It was crazybusy, and Bob's job was to take the people's money and give them their orders.
Now the drive-through window opens by means of a beam. When a worker interrupts the beam, the window opens. If nothing blocks the beam, the window closes. Pretty simple, right?
Not simple enough for Jenga. While I was on coffee-making autopilot, I watched him get his head, his arm, and once, his torso get slammed in the window. "Jenga!" I said. "Put your hip on the edge of the counter. That way you won't get slammed." And then I demonstrated the very simple technique to him.
"Oh, right!" he said, completely ignoring my advice and getting another body part jammed once again.
Although he worked on drive-through for about four hours tonight, I don't think he ever figured out how not to get munched by the window, although I did see him experimenting with the beam, figuring out how it worked part-way through his shift.
While the other drive-through worker and I worked our arses off, Jenga goofed off, helping sporadically, but getting in the way most of the time. Every time he passed something out the window, he jostled me with his arse. I realize the workspace is pretty tight, but it's not that tight. And I was handling very hot liquids. As the night continued, as Jenga bashed me with his big old butt, and as I heard him say "Ow!" every time the windows munched on his arms, I grew crankier and crankier.
Partway through incompetently taking an order over the intercom system, he fucked off to go do something else. What he'd typed in was just plain wrong, and I had to ask the annoyed customer for their order for what was about the third time.
And then he started the horseplay. While a co-worker poured boiling water into a mug for tea, he stood behind her with an empty cardboard box over her head.
"No, Jenga!" I said. "That's dangerous. She has boiling water. Put that away."
He moped his way off into the kitchen to torment some poor soul back there.
Later, as I worked my butt off some more and watched him standing around like a big dolt, I asked if he could fetch some more coffee filters, as we were running out.
"Yeah, sure!" he said, and left.
When he returned some time later, no filters were to be seen.
I reminded him about the filters, and once again he left. Once again he returned without filters.
The third time I asked him, I knew it was pointless. But I asked him, anyway. I ended up going to get them myself, which slowed the production line down, but what could I do?
Another time, my other co-worker asked him to put on some fresh pots of coffee. He fucked that up, too. How is it possible for someone who's worked at a coffee shop for almost a month to not know how to make coffee? I'm perplexed.
A few times during the night, I was the only one working on drive-through because Jenga was AWOL. And I was much more efficient and speedy than when he was "helping" me.
The tips we received at drive-through were divided evenly three ways. I think they should've been divided in half, with none going to him. In fact, I think he should pay us all the tips he'd earned as restitution for all the mental anguish he put us through tonight. I realize he's new to drivethrough, but that doesn't explain the utter incompetence of him across the board. He's on par with the grocery store cashier who asked me what corn on the cob was a while back, and with the packers who like to put canned goods and bottles of bleach in the same bag as my bread.
If it were up to me, I'd fire his ass.
