These are the things about my job that are really starting to bug the hell out me:

1) Nick is insane.

Aw, crap! No no no! Not gonna make another list! Jeez. I wonder what other kinds of entries there are.

OK. Let me just rant and whine for a while. As long as there are no actual numbers involved, it doesn't count as a list.

***

Nick is insane. We now charge for hot water, and for air. He was getting frustrated at people bringing in their own teabags, and told us we had to charge them the full price for tea anyway. I told him that was crazy-talk. He explained that we still had to wash the teapots afterwards, soap still costs money, and besides, what if people start bringing in their own sandwiches next? I smiled and nodded, and continued giving away little pots of hot water for free. I am a rebel.

Today, Hank came in. Hank is famous for his traditional order of "Whipped cream, with maybe a waffle underneath." It's fun, seeing how much whipped topping you can pile on top of a single waffle. I like whipped cream as much as anyone else, but no one likes whipped cream as much as Hank. His waffles are truly frightening things to behold. Today, Nick saw a Hank waffle, and freaked out. He said we had to charge him a dollar extra.

This is an aerosol can of artificial whipped topping, folks. Maybe a full can costs what? $2? That's of course if you buy it at the supermarket, instead of buying it in bulk from a distributor. And most of it is AIR, fer crissakes! Hank was not pleased.

And don't even get me started on the peanut butter, the salsa, the sour cream, and the onions. (Oooh. The onions. OK, I've gotta tell you about the onions. If you get onions on your breakfast hashbrowns, there's no charge. If, however, I get a dinner, and I want onions on my hashbrowns, I will get charged. These are the same hashbrowns, and the same onions. It's not even like there's a charge for onions after 11am. Breakfast, with free onions, is served all day. No, I don't get it either.)

Our prices are ridiculously low. Maybe I'm kooky, but it seems to me that it would make so much more sense to raise the prices of everything on the menu by 20 cents or so, and not charge for silly things like hot water and peanut butter. Am I missing something obvious here?

Nick is insane. We were short staffed, just for a change. He hired two new people last week. They even wanted to work nights. There was much rejoicing. One of them called in sick her second night. Nick took her off the schedule, forever. Aaaaarrrgghhhh!!!

Nick is insane. We have 10% student discounts. If you mention when you are ordering (or more usually, after your bill has been added and you're standing at the cash register) that you are a student, you get 10% off your meal. It's a major pain in my ass. I know most of the prices at this point, and I can do sales tax in my head. (Three cheers for 5% salestax! I know for a fact that I can't get a waitress job anywhere but Wisconsin. Dealing with any other tax percentage would totally mess with my mind. 6 1/2%?? What is that???)

I can add a ticket, or even a whole stack of them, wicked fast when I have to. But for some reason, I just can't get my head around -10%. Sub-traxx-shun?? What is this strange magic of which you speak?

I spend so much time adding, that subtraction is a major gear shift for me. I add the ticket, I look at the total, and I instinctively start figuring the sales tax in my head. Then, I stop, and think, and realize I really have no idea at all how to subtract. I always stare at the total numbly for a minute, then go for the calculator. For some reason, it seems easier to walk to the other end of the restaurant and get the damn calculator than to totally rewire my brain so I can do all the math I learned in gradeschool.

It annoys me, because if it weren't for the stupid discount, the ticket would already be added, and I could be getting on with my life.

Oh, and by the way, look how much you saved. Your bill was 7.45? Enjoy your 75 cents, ya cheap bastard. (See, that part's easy. The part that makes my brain hurt is the subtracting. I don't know why. All I know is, I cannot subtract in my head to save my life. Gimme a minute. Um....6.70. But it took me much longer to figure it out than it did to type it. Tax on 7.45 is 37. Tax on 6.70 is 34. Those, I did like the wind, honest.)

This is leading up to something, I promise. Nick's New Plan is to sell Discount Cards. You pay a certain amount every year, and you get 10% off every time you order. Let's not even get into the logistics of the people who will assume that because they're in every morning, and the morning people don't ask to see the stinkin card anymore, the one time they come in at night I also will know them by sight and know they get their frickin 46 cents off. Let's not even go there. Let's just pause and reflect on a world where I have to use the calculator on EVERY SINGLE TICKET! Grr.

Nick is insane. I worked nine hours today, and I walked out with $53.41 counting every single penny. The sales tax on $53.41 is $2.67, if you're wondering.

Oh, wait. I guess that one isn't actually Nick's fault. Basically, I spent the whole day not making money, which always makes me cross, and listening to my boss' increasingly bizarre ideas, which did nothing to improve my mood.

***

Linda and I were talking today, and she pointed out that since she started a year ago, ten people have left. Those are some scary odds. She said "People like us, we're the lifers." Gawd, I hope not. I've gotta get a new job soon.

***

My. What a longwinded and boring entry. I feel much better, but I wonder if anyone is actually going to read the whole thing. How much rabid Ana can the average mortal take in a single sitting? Goal for tomorrow: Write an entry that is not a list, but still makes interesting reading.

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