Oh. My. Goodness.

Disclaimer: This post is from the archives, and may not represent the current views of the author. It also may not be at all interesting to read. Continue at your own peril!

Okay, I just have to blog this before I head off to bed to die. I got to work at about 4:45 since my shift started at 5, and I saw that it was majorly busy. Since we just released a new bunch of coupons, everyone’s just decided, “Hey, let’s go to Quizno’s since we have these coupons!” I will never again doubt the mind of a marketer.

I ended up starting my shift about ten minutes early because I could see that everyone was rushing around to get everyone’s orders done. Within about ten seconds of when I walked back behind the counter, Rory asked me to get some stuff for him. And so it continued. There never really was a dinner rush like there normally is. It was more of a rush rush, where everyone just keeps coming in and there’s no end. Within about 10 minutes I knew it was going to be a horrible night. But alas, I didn’t even know half of what was going to happen.

Rory was only supposed to work until 7:00. But he decided, being the nice guy he is (and I’m not joking about that, he’s an awesome dude), to stay and help us out since we were still busy by the time 7:00 rolled around. He signed out so Paul wouldn’t get mad about paying extra, and then just stayed and did dishes and all the stuff we hadn’t had time to do while Kyle and I served customers. Then, the unthinkable happened.

It was somewhere around 7:15 to 7:30 when the phone rang. I quickly looked at the caller ID and saw it was the Sanderson Centre. We occasionally get orders for delivery, which are always a nuisance, but unfortunately necessary. This was just horrible though. Apparently there’s some major production going on at the Sanderson Centre and this guy wanted 50 subs by 9:00. I was horrified. Kim had told me of this happening a couple of weeks earlier, but I had hoped that it was a one-time ordeal. Begrudgingly, I wrote down the information for the subs he wanted, and just to top it all off, he complained that last time the subs had been cold since they had been delivered too early. I wanted to just verbally slap him in the face by explaining that we have to make each of his precious subs by hand and feed them through the oven one by one, and that he had no right to even complain about his subs being cold. It’s kind of hard to keep the first sub warm while you make the other forty-nine for some perfectionist producer.

The first order of business was to call Paul. I told him the situation and he said to start the order, and he’d be right over. That was all fine and dandy, but how do you go about starting a 50-sub order when you have more customers to deal with still? So we started cutting the bread necessary for the whole thing, plus we had to cut tomatoes because we were running low to begin with. Once Paul got there, the action began. Rory and Paul were making the subs – along with a few interruptions from customers as well as having to restock the meat – while Kyle took them out at the other end and wrapped them, and I put them in bags. I also was responsible for running back and forth to get more meat, cheese, etc. and also ringing in customers at the cash register. It was insane.

So to make a really long story not quite as long, we finally got the order done by about 8:30 and Paul loaded it up in his car. The bill came out to over $400 worth of subs. Needless to say, Paul was ecstatic. And everyone else was miserable. Rory went home after staying about an hour and a half overtime, and Paul closed up the store half an hour early and then left Kyle and myself to clean the store up. And it was a mess. A big, giant, mess.

Let me give you a rundown on what normally happens when closing. We start putting some of the stuff away, like soups and meatballs, about half an hour before closing – tonight we were supposed to close at 9:00. Then, at that time, the doors are locked and we clean up the store, sweeping and mopping, as well as getting everything ready for tomorrow. It’s usually not too bad, and we’re usually out between 9:15 and 9:30.

Not so tonight. We closed up at 8:30, and it was a looming prospect just to figure out what to clean first. The floor was covered in scraps of food that had dropped. The counters were messy with food and half-cut bread. The bins normally full of food were nearly empty, and there wasn’t much meat left with which to fill them, either. From closing up half an hour early, we ended up getting out a full hour later than we usually do – about 10:15. We spent an hour and a half just cleaning up that pig-sty of a place. I’m sure Paul wouldn’t have to think too much to figure out why I put in my two weeks’ notice today. It’s nights like these – nights where I have to spend my valuable time cleaning up his store – that make me want to quit that job. Thank goodness it’s only for two weeks longer.

So that was my night. I was supposed to work for 4 hours and 15 minutes. I ended up being on my feet, walking, for about 5 and a half hours straight – no breaks, no nothing. The only time I sat down for that entire time was the 10 or 15 minutes it took me to count cash.

That brings me to another point. We made over $1300 of sales in cash alone – including that $400 order. Then, with Interac, there was another $700. That’s over two thousand dollars – and we closed up half an hour early. Normally on a busy Friday night, we might make about $1300 maximum, counting both cash and Interac.

Yes, I’m one tired guy. But hey – at least the place is decent for Elliott, who opens tomorrow. You’d think that with an hour and a half of cleaning, the place would be spotless, but it’s still not as good as most of my closes. I’m soooooo glad I finally quit.

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