I Hate My Job

Maybe I should say I hate my employer. I try very hard not to name the corporation that I work for on this blog. Those who know, please respect that wish in any comment posts. I've worked the foodservice industry for almost 25 years, and I like it. Well, mostly, I like it. This latest stint really has me seething.

First of all, corporate chains are not my gig. I thought I might dislike some of the policy that goes into this kind of restaurant, but as it turns out, I HATE pretty much everything that goes into this kind of restaurant. It doesn't matter if a policy works or not, we have to abide the rule that comes down from headquarters. Things like server check-ins (not really a bad thing) to buddy systems (a very bad thing) that are supposed to make us more efficient so we can schedule less servers, thereby making everyone more money. HA! Last time I checked, we used to have 17 servers on a Saturday, and now we are up to 19 servers on a Saturday. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Another big disillusion is that I was so excited to work for a restaurant that actually offered up health insurance to a lowly waitress. Well, that's another smoke and mirrors tactic. You see, the open enrollment period is in January. The rules are that you have to get 25 hours a week to qualify. With the gross overstaffing that is required by corporate, nobody gets 25 hours a week. At least not in January when there's barely enough business to keep those who want to work five nights a week at that many nights. I think it's pretty sad that you can drive a 50-mile roundtrip to work five nights a week, make next to nothing so you can fret about making your rent, AND not make the minimum requirement to secure yourself a little bit of piece of mind for your health. That's a trick, boy.

In addition to the corporate bullshit one endures with a restaurant such as this, I have the added bonus of a boss who has no clue about being a manager. The guy has a good heart and is personable, no doubt. However, his scheduling skills are quite lacking, and his organizational skills are nonexistent. I will not even begin to rant about his inability to control his staff. Instead, let me give you a sample workweek.

Wed: 3:15 (Open)
Thurs: 4:45
Fri: 5:30 (Close)
Sat: 4:30 (Close)
Sun: 11:15 (Open and Double Shift)
Mon: 5:30 (Close)
Tues: 4:45

Yes, that's seven in a row. Three closing shifts, in spite of the fact that with 30 servers on staff (four closers needed seven nights a week equaling 28 closing shifts for the week), I get three closing shifts. Can I mention that two of those closing shifts are late weekend closing shifts? Can I point out that after getting home after midnight on Saturday night that I am required to be back for a double shift before noon on a Sunday? Would it be whiny to point out that the Sunday shift netted me $22 and an early cut at 3pm?

I came home and slept. Discouraged? You bet. Sick of making no money? Certainly. Wanting out? Abso-fucking-lute-ly!!

In spite of all of these beefs, I have one that grinds me more than any of these. Oh yes I do... The wonderful world that I work in pays the entire front of house staff next to nothing. Know why? Because the servers have a 3% tipshare taken out of their tips before they get them. That's right, the entire front of house staff gets paid from the chunk that gets taken from my hide. I wouldn't even care if I was making any money. The sad part is that a customer who comes in and thinks leaving his server 15% is doing his part for our bottom line is actually only leaving that server a crappy 12% tip. Of course, I can't explain this to my tables, but I really wish I could. Furthermore, it's come to my attention that a restaurant is not allowed (by federal law) to take more than 15% of what you make for other front of house workers. (They are not allowed to take ANY of what you make for back of house staff, so if you work somewhere that's doing that, get on the phone to a local labor agency)! As it turns out, my restaurant is taking about 20% of what I make. Complaining would be futile since the whole tip issue is such a volatile subject in restaurants. I could see corporate pointing the finger back about how servers don't claim everything they make when they are clearly supposed to claim it all.

I need to get out of this position. And while I am venting like a volcano here, do not think that I have not tried to get out of this restaurant. I am churning out resumes like pamphlets in the doctor's office. I am interviewing, calling, sending emails with resumes attached. I have looked in areas outside of my chosen field and I have chastised myself endlessly for not falling back on my teaching degree. I cannot imagine being tied to a school schedule, and apparently am more content hobbling along on this wage than tying myself to a teaching life.

The saddest part of this disaster I call my career is that the current job is affecting my job interviews. My interview last Thursday started on a bad note. "Tell me your favorite thing about working at xxxxxxx." I'm an honest individual with an up front attitude. I had to tell her that there was nothing I liked about it at this point. Of course, I backed it up with nuggets that she found appalling. I assured her I didn't want this to be a session bashing my current employer, but I haven't heard back from her, and I'm sure this is the reason.

I thought this would be the month I found that job that would fulfill me. Or at least the job that would make my bills not seem like a mountain I have to exert every last muscle in my body to get over the top of every month when they arrive. I really love so much about my life that it's disheartening to feel so fed up with the part that is such a major portion of your daily existence.

I know that it will not always be like this. I'm sure that there are bigger and better things out there for me. I just have to find them. Anybody got a map?