On a slightly more entertaining but somewhat awkward level, I'm now officially hated by someone. And surprisingly, other than being fairly amused and a little uncomfortable with it, I really could care less. That's an improvement, trust me. A year ago the thought that someone didn't like me, much less professed to hate me, would have caused me to completely flip out. I used to be one of those people that always had to be nice, to have people love me and would go to crazy lengths to achieve that and obsess about it endlessly. Now I just kind of smile and shrug and go on with my work. Because yes, it is someone at work (of course, it would have to be since I don't know anyone else in this town other than coworkers). It's this FNG who has been catering with us recently. Sorry, that's not very polite. It's this new guy who has been catering with us recently. It's kind of a long complicated story that would require a lot of explanations b/c none of you internet readers are familiar with the situation at my work, so I'll just stick to the bare bones of the facts.
We hired this new guy, who I thought was supposed to be for catering only b/c we're always shorthanded with that (no one wants to do it; it's long hours, hard work, and very little pay) so when he was assigned to help us with it I wasn't surprised. Only I have to claim my share of the blame for the clusterfudge we've now found ourselves in. My boss kind of believes in throwing people straight into the fire when it comes to catering. Training is provided on the job, if at all. Now catering events tend to be incredibly busy and completely crazy, keeping us running the entire time--which is not exactly the best time to have to stop and explain stuff to a newbie. Also I'm not very good at training new people and explaining things. My instructions tend to either sound like abrupt orders or tentative suggestions.
The first event he helped with was even busier than usual because the guests showed up an hour early and we were NOT prepared. So New Guy (NG from now on) didn't really have much training, simply b/c we were too busy to provide it, as it's often easier to just do stuff ourselves rather than have to stop and tell someone else to do it (especially if they don't know how).
His next assigned event was helping me to cater a HUGE graduation party with like 150 guests. Two caterers for 150 people? Yeah, right. And New Guy started disappearing. I'd be running back and forth, look around, and NG would be nowhere. That started to irk me a little, as I was literally being run off my feet. As soon as I refilled drinks, the food would be gone. I'd refill the food, start to pick up plates, and the drinks would be gone again. I'd refill drinks, and they would be out of glasses. You get the picture. Meanwhile, I'd dash into the back room (sometimes referred to as the ballroom kitchen), and NG would be standing there with his hands in his pockets, doing nothing. I mean, I get that he's new, but some things are just kind of obvious. They're called eyes. Use them! And partly it was my fault because I'm not very good at telling people what to do, and then I just got irritated and didn't want to tell him to do stuff b/c I didn't think I'd be very nice about it. So another girl from the kitchen who was supposed to be getting off duty ended up coming over and helping me out instead, while NG either stood around or disappeared some more. So finally this other girl kind of lost her temper and yelled at him, telling him to get to work. She would tell him to go pick up plates, he'd go out once and load up, put them in the back room, and then disappear again. We literally had to tell him every time to go do something. This continued all night.
Then on Saturday night we had another huge wedding reception; it was just me, NG, and another girl, we'll call her Charity. Basically, again, same thing happened. I'd even had a little talk with NG prior to the event starting, telling him the basic idea of what needs to be done, and told him NOT to pull the disappearing thing again. Of course that was pointless. He pulled the same routine all over again, sticking me and Charity with most of the work except when we specifically told him to do something or he got to show off how
strong and
cool he was was by either carrying something heavy and showcasing his muscles or standing around with his hands in his pockets looking suave and mature. That was sarcasm in case you missed it. I had come in an hour early to make sure everything was done and I sent Charity home early since she had to be in at 7 the next morning; of course, NG had already asked if he could go home so I said fine, since pretty much everything was done, and as he left he muttered something about his feet hurting him. Poor baby. Needless to say, I was the last out of there again.
Then the next day all three of us were working regular shifts in the kitchen, and Charity and I were finishing up in the ballroom most of the day, including cleaning up some stuff that NG did wrong and therefore making more work for us. He has a problem with just going ahead and doing stuff that he doesn't know how to do, instead of asking how to do it, which means he does it wrong and we have to clean up after him. Sometimes even after I've told him how to do it right.
Anyways, at one point I was alone over in the ballroom b/c Charity had gone back over to the kitchen to help out, and suddenly she comes storming into the back room fuming over something. Eventually she tells me that NG had told E, another guy who works with us, that Charity and I are lazy bitches and he hates us. Uhhhhh.......okay. We're lazy? We actually do our work plus his work b/c he's never there, and WE'RE lazy? He probably only hates us because we make him work, which apparently he doesn't like. When he and I catered the grad party and were cleaning up afterwards, he kept asking if he could go. I'd say no, b/c we weren't done yet. Then when I finally did say he could go, as he left I heard him mutter under his breath, "Thank God". Clearly that boy needs to toughen up. He hasn't even worked a hard shift yet. Wait til he spends 14 hours running off his feet, able to sit down
maybe 15 minutes out of those 14 hours, and those are just a minute here and there adding up to the 15 minutes total. THEN your feet will hurt. GRRR!!! At the time I was just amused, but now I'm starting to get annoyed! He'd better watch out--I might be a forgive-and-forget-type person, but some of my coworkers are revenge-and-retribution-type people, and he's starting to piss them off some too. They WILL make him miserable if he continues in this vein.
I'm sorry, that turned from a simple explanation to a full-on rant, which I hadn't intended. But it did make me feel better :)
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