Jesus jumped up christ.
You know, I know scheduling is not an easy job. I do, I used to have to do it. USE THE OLD SCHEDULES TO FAMILIARIZE YOURSELF WITH WHAT PEOPLE ARE HAPPY WITH.
See, corporate thinks they know all. That's why they scheduled me to work next weekend WHEN I SAID I WOULD BE IN MEXICO.
Then, I come in tonight and look at the schedule and notice that there is no closing driver. I was to be ALONE from 8-10 and then that's it.
They had to talk one of the day drivers to leave and come back and close. Good thing he's a nice guy.
See, when I first started there, I would have done that if they had asked me. I'm to the point now where I realize that being nice isn't going to get me anywhere with them. I also don't want to move up the ladder, so there ya go. I let CM know that if the next schedule was fucked, I was going to move to the other store. Done fucking deal. I'm tired of getting shafted like this. See, the whole point of me not closing is so that I can get home in time to get some sleep and get to work on time the next morning. Instead, I'm rocking a headache, didn't leave until 10:45 and have to get to work early tomorrow so I can leave early so I can go to the fucking inspection.
OK. I'm done.
BTW, if you ever suggest a bed and breakfast to anyone coming to Tucson, keep them away from the Big Blue House or Hospitality Exchange (it has 2 names) on 144 E University Avenue. The guy is a fucking cock. I rang the bell AT THE FRONT DOOR (you know, the door that faces the fucking street and has the address on it) and he comes from around the side of the building.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I go to the wrong door?"
"Yeah. Do you know who the pizza is for?"
"Uhh...(insert name here)."
"Allright, is there a room number?"
"No, sorry, there isn't."
And he starts to walk away. So I start to follow him around the side of the building.
"You don't need to come in."
"Oh, will she be coming from the other door?"
"I don't know where she will be coming from. This is a bed and breakfast. I'm going to check the registry and see what room she is in and let her know that her food is here. You don't need to come inside because I don't know which way she'll be coming down the stairs."
Now, keep in mind, IT'S 45 FUCKING DEGREES OUTSIDE and wet. Thanks for your fucking hospitality you fucking cocksucker. What I wanted to say to him was this:
Look buddy, I don't want to be here anymore than you do. It's cold, it's wet, I have much better things to do than deliver pizza to your fucking guests. And I'm sure you have better things to do than wander around outside tracking down guests to get their food to them. If you don't want people ordering food after a certain hour THEN FUCKING TELL THEM. Now, drop the fucking attitude and find out who this belongs to because I have another delivery to take and then I get to go home."
Instead, I just let him give me his attitude and walk away.
Sometimes service jobs suck.
Hate that guy.
He totally blew whatever good mood I had hung on to out the window.
I'm going to bed. I took some excedrin p.m. and it's gonna kick in soon.