Okay. So I have been waitressing at a wood grilled steak restaurant for about 2.5 months now. It is called Firebirds and it is 100000 miles short of my dream job. That is all irrelevant to the following story, but I didn't want you people to think that because I am laughing at a story about work, that I like work. haha...
Anyway, about 4 weeks ago I no longer had to be the new girl at work because three new trainees started. One guy was named Clint, my childhood rottweiler's name, and he was...hmmh...overzealous about serving. While training he was often stepping right in front of his trainer to take over tables that were not his. He claimed to me during his 3rd day of training that he was a better server than about 75% of people who had been working there since the restaurant had opened a year ago. Really? Funny he says that because Justin, another guy I worked with, really hit the nail on the head when he described Clint like this: "You know, whenever something goes wrong and a manager is on the rampage, you can pretty much bet your entire earnings for the night on the fact that Clint is responsible." Amen, Justin.
So, Clint is just notorious for being brash, rude to females, and he ruins a good joke by repeating it every time he passes you back in the server alley. Even if it was someone else's joke. I hate it when people do that. When he first started working, a few different people asked him to pick up shifts for them and he very sarcastically, and with a laugh, would tell those people, "Yea, right."
Last week when the schedule came out Clint realized that he had forgotten to ask off for this coming Saturday night. He proceeds to approach me, and ask me if I work on Saturday. After I tell him yes, I think so, I work a double, he proceeds to ask me three more times. "Are you sure? You do? You do?" YES I KNOW MY OWN SCHEDULE. Now, in my defense, I really makea conscious effort to be above reproach at the restaurant. It is such a negative working environment for most that I try to be in a good mood and nice to people. I pray walking in there to exude Christ, but Clint pushes me to the edge.
After I tell him that I cannot work for him because I ALREADY WORK THAT NIGHT, he proceeds to tell me what he portrays as a sob story about having to miss the birthday celebration of his friend who is leaving for Iraq soon. Sorry, Charlie. Can't help you out. It's not like your mom is getting surgery. So, fast forward to today, a day before the Saturday that he is trying to get off. Clint approaches me AGAIN today to ask me if I work Saturday, and can I work for him. I politely (as I can) let him know that yes I am STILL scheduled to work on Saturday night and NO I cannot work for him. He double checks, and I about body check him to the face, politely. He proceeds to tell me that he needs someone to work for him because HIS MOM IS COMING INTO TOWN TO VISIT. Thats weird? I thought...seems Clint forgot that he already asked me to work for him.
I approach my friend Trish from WV who I work with and tell her this private joke, and she mentions that she picked up on it as well. She then waltzes over to Clint and asks him is he is mad that his mom is coming in town causing him to miss the big birthday bash for his friend who is going away to Iraq soon. His spilt second, quick thinking response: Oh, what are you talking about? Birthday...uh well that friend actually broke his leg so no more birthday party. Way to think on your feet chief. Next time you ask me to work for you, be more prepared with your excuse story.