UPDATE: it is now 2020 as I write this. I never thought I would ever be able to top Lisa. [Fuck you Lisa, Fuck you]. Had a few run ins. Hell I got fired for getting another job, with no reason. Some people really tested my patience as managers, but then I found Queen of the…demon possessed cunts. This woman is by far a woman who outsucceeds even my mother who is next in line for Lucifer’s chair. The hate I feel in my heart towards her…I hope God forgives you, because I wish your car would blow out tires go 90 miles per hour. Enjoy this add-on because I think I met the worst woman to have crossed paths. You and most of your staff, may God save your lost souls.
This woman almost never smiled, and she hated me from the start. Kev and Beth were all about hiring me, with my hair going from orange to red. I had stripped it with the intent of dying it. Nailed the interview with Beth, changed my hair and they said it was still too bright. I tried dying it many times, still not enough for her
I did however secure a follow up Interview with the General Manager. Crane, that’s what I’m calling her was such a Cunt, even in the interview just radiated around her. So much darkness to her. Even in her eyes…
I’m just putting this here as what I will call the idea that may have been the catalyst into turning her into someone I hope was raped as a child to have been such a bitch.
Her husband died. He didn’t quickly pass. He suffered through cancer, and Crane was responsible for being his care taker. A couple of little birds may have said she resented the fact that was her new gig besides work. Losing someone doesn’t give you the right to treat anyone how she did. She seemed almost resentful of the fact she had to take care of him. For better or worse huh?
She always hated me. She looked at me with hatred in her eyes, and almost a sneer. Think Dolores Umbridge in Harry Potter.
From Day one she tried to find a way to get rid of me, and she was even vocal to other managers about her hatred for me, and I didn’t do anything wrong. Honest I tried to be an employee who went above and beyond. But I was a target.
For her, for several staff members, and even the lady who hit me.
The first of my troubles was a Gay Cowboy. Yes, basically a side cast member in Brokeback Mountain. Thing is, he never deserves to have a love story. He was something Regina George would aspire to be, and it wasn’t Fetch. He tormented me among a select group of people because he hated his life. I accidentally outted him because HE WAS SO GAY HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN WEARING ELTON JOHN OUTFITS. I was given hours of sidework from him and his little clique of people. Bad mouthing me was a constant, along with the same sneer as Crane. Because I wouldn’t break. Before my Instagram got shut down, I used to have countless videos of being tormented, me crying in the bathroom. I didn’t do anything to this kid, and here he was telling a 16 year old girl she wasn’t even a person, along with making a bet with an actual nice girl that he could be nice for a day. It lasted 5 actual minutes, and I’m being serious.
Funny story though, King Greggory and his reign of terror to the staff, along with his evil henchmen came to a screeching halt when I arranged statements from several employees about his behavior towards myself and others. It blindsided him, and he left the building crying shocked when I just stared at him. Kitty has claws sweetie.
Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness you fucking idiots.
Drinking was a big thing for the staff. They would go on break during a double, and pop over to Old Chicago and down shots and beer. There’s a good chance any of you have had an intoxicated server who was just that extra push of friendly.
See King Greggory, and the merry band of misfits partied more than I ever did in my 0’s every single weekend. To the point there was an incident of a girl blowing coke, and then not coming to work. They loved nose candy, and I heard many stories from people. The ironic part is when they weren’t around him, not only was the shift pretty great, but I wasn’t stuck breaking down the salad bar cooler every night almost, but I could actually enjoy conversation with people. I don’t do fake friends though, especially when their colors were so clear.
One girl woke up late, and was so drunk came to work, they let her stay and wait tables.
Another girl, who was best friends with Crane, announced to me and everyone that the beer was coming out of her pores.
The coke snorter laid on the ground on a sunday morning, still unable to move because I believe she was way past the legal limit.
These are a few examples, because they are very crucial in this story.
It took my soulmate dying for Crane and I to have anything in common. It didn’t last long, obviously, but it was nice to not have to smoke everyday before going in just to be able to tolerate the anxiety that was turning into full blown attacks.
I went straight to work after saying goodbye to the love of my life, and the days were so hard, but I woke up one day after peeing the bed, didn’t bother showering, and went to work. I didn’t smoke that moring, which plays into this, and ended up hearing Semi Charmed Life which always puts me in a goof mood, and get interested in trying meth. I was laughing and jumping around, got pulled into the office where I was accused of them being able to “smell it on me .”
Lady your line cooks get high on their “break”.
I was shocked. It was my first good day at work since Paul died, and being called drunk when sober, and wanting to step out of the box I had been in with the river of pain I was coping with, and with my replies “I’m having a good day.” I was basically forced to leave to leave, while sober was top 5 golden moments at my job, The lady who hit me, My own Karen, jesus they should have just put grill marks on it, and i would not have violently cried in the office. The woman hit me, yelled at me, then repeatedly waved her hand in my face, was still better than what that succubus of happiness brought to the table.
For example I don’t react well to when people tell me they need to talk to me. Scares the shit out of me, and I become a rabbit about fear. I’ll always fight. But imagine fighting off a wolverine while covered in steak. That’s the level of love she radiates.
There were so many bullshit reasons I either got a write up, and talked to about things that were clearly only affective to me. But that’s bullied for you. My instagram. I made a video talking about how stupid it was that if we could raises our PPA a certain amount set that day, then you had to write why you didn’t get it high enough.
Because people cheap?
This story is closing to an end, at least these ones so far, I swore leaving that job I would forever never afain allow my amazing unique kind of ass that I’m worth more than that treatment, especially in a job where they replace you the same day.
It was a sunday, and I remember this is because I tend to be night people most shifts. I’ve written about this before but running water gives me panic attacks. That day they had decided to turn the water faquet that was o the line to put spatulas in it. the water go fast and doesnt stop. I used to turn it off the times when I would expodite food. Make it look nice. I also throughly enjoy the multiple things thrown at me, screamed at me. I was called names. Not given parts of meals to make it whole. It was great especially when Raven, the dark haired girl though she was bad ass because she was a cook, began to smoke crack in my best friend’s house. [Hey Hamelbitch was the one to tell me, not your ex]. She took 110.00 that day, then made a scene about “not in here” while I had posted a FB status about my frustrations, and just like video I made about the Per person average, it was also seen by the manager somehow but only end up with a chat about the instagram post.
That girl wanted to be me. She hated me because of something I didn’t do, but thought fucking the 19 year old dishwasher I had schmooshed before her would make me jealous.
It didn’t I have to say.
my last honorable mention goes to my stalker. Did so much try to screw up a much better job; that you ended up banned from Applebee’s and I filed a restraining order against you. Next time you slit your wrists go deeper.
SO about this time I had been sad Paul, and that second I still hadn’t taken a moment to grieve losing the love of my life.
I have severe panic attacks. I kid you not I collapsed and army crawled a couple of times I have for my meds there. By this time I was so on the verge of a nervous breakdown that the job and the stress I felt there was a major factor of my falling apart.
I walked into the kitchen, and saw them trying to screw the handle back on, and water pouring out at such a ferocity. The thought of waisting water began to creep into my chest with pure, crippling terror. I rememer becoming lightheaded, and i thought I had it under control and went to grab the salad dishes I left at a side station. I grabbed them, and thats when I began to lose the ability to walk, let alone stand, so i slid down the wooding back to a booth. My manager Marc rushed over to me, and all I could say is “I can’t stand. I can’t feel my legs”. He asked if I wanted to call 911, but I told him no I would be okay.
Sat down with the District Manager, and came to the realization That I needed time to grieve. I poured my heart into work and the treatment I got piled into my severe mental problems. I sat with a handful of my sleeping pills because I mentally snapped. I wasn’t sleeping for more than 2 hours a night, 4-5 if I was lucky. I was accussed of lying because I would have died. No you fuck sticks, Manic Depresssion mixed with Insomnia is why my brain works the way it does. ` I ended up being sniffed by coworkers because they apparently assumed I smelled like any substance that kept me without mind rest for a month.
I ended up with a week off of work and that’s when I tried to grieve my loss of Paul. It involved barehanding a rotiserrie chicken, and watching P.S. I Love You. It took trying to go to 3 different Targets to locate it. I needed it. The story is of a woman losing the love of her life, and her journey to figure out life. There’s more to the movie than just that simple sentence. It’s a classic.
I went back to Red Lobster, and my whole stance on life had changed. Before, and after. I came back to people complaining about extra sidework, and here I had just watched the love of my life slowly die in a coma after a car pinned his head again a curb. I had never been mean to a single person there, and while I cried in booths about an unimaginable loss and pain I still feel to this day, I had endured 2.5 years of torment from people who treated me like shit, but were kind to my face.
There was a gay flight attendant who left, and tried roasting all of us. He referred to me as a helicopter and that I was always buzzing around either telling my business to people, or in people’s business. It’s the same guy who used to come rub my back and tell me his problems, or people would unload their business on me. People assume that just because I listen, that means I want to to begin with.
The day I quit was simple.
There was a miscommunication over a table and a section. She raised her voice to me, which she’s about the same level of kindness of my mother, and I went to the office and told my favorite manager “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t.” He talked me off the ledge and I was ready to go back at it. Crane rounded the corner, and deviously knew she found her loophole. Sent me home for the night, and I went to Olive Garden to apply for a job.
I came back the next day, forced in a sit down with some random manager. Tries laying into me, then basically tells me I’m let go. I told her it was fine, that I would go somewhere else were I was treated with respect and not talked to like I was a piece of shit. SHE was so pissed she wasn’t getting the reaction out of me she thought she would. She was like “Fine. You do that”.
I shook her hand, thanked her, and told her I wish her nothing but the best. The vile look in her eyes, the seething hatred she had spent building up against me was fabulous. You could tell she had a dream of throwing me out, and I squashed that dream. All she could muster was a “You too.” Of course she felt the need to walk me out, like I was going to reenact the “I’m not going to cause a scene!” Scene from Half Baked.
I left that day, and I felt so much better. My mental health improved, while all these people were left to drown in that toxic enviroment. I’ve seen a few of them out, and had to leave. Not a fear of confrontation, more a fear of the charges I would catch with the seething rage I still feel against them. Some have left to avoid me. There was someone who passed away, and somehow months after I left I was notified, like I had to be upset. This person and I hooked up, and I lent him money. He then became friends with all the people who treated me like shit. My only response was “well I’m not getting that 50 bucks back.”
I was bombarded with messages calling me horrible names, told at my funeral they wouldn’t speak highly of me, and even brought Paul into the mix. It’s cute how you’re trying to compare the greatest friend who ever lived, to the guy who fucked the crackhead like they were trying to rub it in my face. I see you don’t worry.
I’m sure there’s more that I’ll add after this ending, I’ve had to block out because my rage boils and I know I would hurt someone. All I can say is I’ve dealt with demons as of late, but this place? There was evil in the eyes of somany people. Be leery of those little soulless beings asking you if you want another round of endless shrimp. They’ll stab you in the back as quickly as look at you, always with a devious smile.