Gypsywannabe

Things you probably didn't know about your McDonalds.....

ONE: We, the employees, hate you, the customer, when you order stupid
stuff. Don't order the burgers "medium" or "rare" or any other way.
They were all cooked on a timed grill about ten minutes ago. In the
mornings don't ask for fresh pancakes. They all come pre-cooked and we
heat them in a microwave.

TWO: We re-date stuff. All the time. Apple pies, salads and those
Fruit N Yogurt parfaits. If the strawberry color is fading into the
yogurt - it means your parfait was made one or two days ago.

THREE: They hire morons for managers. My manager - a nineteen year old
kid, thought it was funny how upset I got that the fridge temp went up
to 50 degrees. He had turned off the cooling system so he could stock
in comfort.

Mylife.com is a freaking sham that I literally just threw sixty bucks
at and my bf wont dispute the charges. I shouldn't let it get to me as
there is not much I can do - and when I switch jobs in a few weeks
that sixty isn't going to seem like much. But still. GRRR!

We finally moved into a house! Yay! Not to mention solid internet
connection. I learned how to conquer Facebook and have been playing
all those silly games non stop. So life is awesome.

I'll make a more complete update later - especially about the manager
at McD's who thinks it's okay to yell at me for helping other
employee's. (Seriously - they wrote me up a warning about doing my job
only unless a manager asks, talk about freakin' teamwork huh?) I just
feel lazy now and want to browse what I've been missing this past
month.

Forgive me Planet Feedback for I have shopped. It has been a while
since my last suggestion.........

Anyway, my lease on the house started on the first. The lease at my
apartment end on the end of this month. I have an entire month to move
- and for some reason this does not seem like enough time.

I have decided to abuse the situation the gay people are in and tell
everyone that I will not marry until all can marry.

Or at least tell everyone that I'm not religious. Seriously, I don't
belong to a congregation. I don't go to church. I don't plan to ever.
So why marry? I like my name. I hate jewelry. I don't like sharing.

On another topic, I think I've finally gotten the hang of work. I'm
scheduled for eight hours and finish everything I needed to do for the
day in three. I goofed off for the rest of the day and tried to be a
help elsewhere. Every time a manager hunted me down it went like this
....

"Gypsy, you have parfaits done?"
"Yeah, why are you out?"
"No, just making sure you're doing your work"

"Gypsy, are you on fries today?"
"No - I'm on prep duty today"
"How does your prep look?"
"Perfect"

"Gypsy, how does the lobby look?"
"I don't know"
"Why not?"
"Holly's on Lobby today"



I'm going to run away and be a stripper.

When I was pregnant and jobless I used to drive out to my moms house
to sleep on her couch. Whoever said "There's no going home again"
obviously didn't dine on an Italian families leftovers.

I would stay up all night because my sleep was out of whack. I used to
watch Jon and Kate Plus Eight.

I seriously cried when the renewed their wedding vows and secretly I
wished that I had a house like theirs. A backyard like theirs. A
family all sitting at a table to a meal. Every day an adventure that
didn't include everyone staring at a TV.

And now Jon has been seen with another woman.

If they break up I will completely stop watching TV. It's stupid to
feel this way over someone I've never met and probably never will.

Which is the greater sin in Christian eyes?
Is it abortion?
Or raising a baby out of wedlock?
Because if one more opinionated old fool has something to say about me
and my child I may just forget my "Dear Abby" etiquette and go off on
someone. I cannot believe the audacity of some people.
Generally I like old people. I do - they have the best stories and
tend to listen better than persons a quarter of their age. The rare
ones are stubborn fools who cannot keep their ideals to themselves and
just let me be.

Ever just have one of those amazing weekends? I don't know about you
but when I was in high school a weekend was enough to change
everything. Being a couch hermit could mean you missed something major
and for a whole week you'd feel left behind, just a little bit more
like an outsider in the strange land of teenage angst. Or that prom
party you decided to throw because your mom wont let you stay out to
late becomes an astonishing success! (All thanks to a feud dividing a
clique at just the right moment) Then for a whole week you're the talk
of the town and your social circle grows a bit larger.
One weekend to set your course. Friday, Saturday, Sunday.
Three days to make or break you.
Or at least dictate who you'll be hanging with next Saturday.
I was calling houses for rent like all day Thursday. The only one to
call back was the one with a really kick ass yard.
The landlady showed the house to the boyfriend, offspring and me at
10:30 am on Friday. By 1:30 pm I'm putting a down deposit on it.
Wham bam thank you ma'am!
Then I show up at work on Saturday only to find that an old friend
from high school has started to work there. And she totally wants to
hang out! She has the best stories ever and has seen almost every band
I've herd of in concert (and has even drank with them!!)
This Saturday was also my pre-birthday bash with monies from my
previous job that I wasn't expecting in my budget. Yes I know I should
be holding onto every penny - but now we just have so much more to
celebrate for!
Anyway - the bf and I were supposed to be going to a strip club to see
Jesse Jane, one of the leading ladies from Pirates, which was the
first porn I had ever seen. I know, not very becoming of a new mother
but there is literally nothing to do in my town, and the strip club is
a cool place to hang. They have great service, great drinks and a
really fun atmosphere. (Plus the evil inner me is secretly elated ever
time a Barbie doll come to life complements me. I love the ones that
are about stuff I can't control - like how tall I am, or how they like
my hair, but I'll still take the complements about my outfits)
Unfortunately our DD fell through so we ending up drinking in town.
Somehow that turned out to be the most amazing thing ever. We flirted
and held hands and I teased the bf because our waitress was making
eyes at him. Thank the Cosmos for babysitting grandmas.
Showing up for work on Sunday (today) hungover was fun. I'm not even
being sarcastic. I went in early for coffee and to share my battle
stories. Pomegranate Lemonade, with Stoli and schnapps and sweet n
sour. Not feeling it until drink two. Staying up till two. Coming to
work at 6 am.

Greatest weekend of my life. Just like old times.

I don't wanna go! I miss lounging around and playing on the computer
all night. Not to mention I've been there long enough now where
everyone is all jokey and friendly with me. When I left work the other
day I got hugs from three different girls ages ranging from fifteen to
twenty-eight, as I was leaving. One of them I have never so much as
said "Hello" to. What would dear Abby say!??

No really. I do. I have never thought drool to be cute. I hate the
smell of milk. I don't understand how primitive people dealt with
cloth diapers. (Now before the environment savers get onto me - have
you seen the great leap cloth diapers have come upon since 1904? No -
you weren't there)
But here I am, slow dancing to my favorite song. The disco ball
sending multicolor lights across a darkened room. Cheek to cheek with
the love of my life. Too bad she's only four months old, and I can't
remember why I don't like her.
I'm too tired to clean my apartment. No one wants to rent a house to
an unwed mother. My laundry quarter stash is all but dried up - along
with the spit up that adorns all my clothes. I run the dishwasher at
half mast (Something my penny pinching mother would never approve of)
because I'm in constant need of bottles and afraid I'm not cleaning
them well enough by hand. Whenever I get ready to go anywhere I have
to allow an extra hour for unexpected things, like spit up on my shirt
or a sudden need for a diaper change. I get up at 4am, not to go to
"work" but to go to "my time off of the baby". I swear she is finely
tuned to know when I want some time alone with Daddy, and is
accordingly annoying.
But then I have nights like last night. A wobbly uncertain hand
reaches for my face as the last chorus fades out. Her eyes lock onto
mine and a coo emerges from her lips. The dance is over and it's way
past the time she usually falls asleep. I lay her into the crib and
instead of the tears I was expecting she smiles up at me. Her gaze
drifts away from mine and her eyes focus on nothing in particular and
her lids start to droop. This is the most singular amazing moment I've
had in so long.

But really, I swear, I don't like babies. I can't imagine why anyone
would.

Mamasita worked with me today. She came over to my kitchen prep area
as I was rolling burritos. She takes one. Unfolds it. Folds it back up
and walks away. I'm guessing that this means my burritos passed
inspection. My knees shake in relief.

Or maybe they shake in major caffein overdose as I was on like my
third cup of coffee at seven in the morning. Lol, I stroll in at five
of five (in the am, ugh) with my manger asking me if I had a late
night. Yes, yes I did. But my sleep debt was not due to baby-ness.

Last night I went to the world premier of an independent film called
"Walking to Maryland". It was filmed in my home town with the two main
characters being from my graduating class. I cannot explain how proud
I was that "one of us" had made it to the little screen, dragging our
sleepy town with it. Although glorious, I don't think the movie is
going to make it into mainstream theaters. They had spread the story
line too thin by providing too many topics and then not fully
exploring any one of them. There were a great many touching scenes and
some amazing acting by Mike Kolzowski, and I wouldn't be surprised if
he went somewhere in the movie industry. Mellisa Anne, although
compelling, is best suited for the stage life. Maybe we'll see her on
Broadway? In either case keep a lookout for these names and know you
read about them here first!

So...
Yesterday I was yelled at (okay, talked sternly to) by one of the
cooks affectionately known as Mamasita. When she's upset she goes off
in spanish (it makes me think of that Wal-Mart post) and sometimes
she's hard to understand. Like when she's telling me I'm doing the
burritos wrong. She came up to me and keeps saying "Like this, like
this" and wrapping them, but for the life of me I have no idea what
she wants from me. I'm wrapping them. I'm putting them in paper. I
don't know why they fall apart in the microwave. She even brings back
one to show me what happens to them and goes on - "No, no, like
this."
I'm near tears. I fondly recall blissful moments in bartending where
one can do no wrong (ugh! darn my necessity for health insurance!) I
hate being micro managed. In my head I'm already planning my dramatic
exit. Burritos strewn everywhere! I'll throw my stupid apron to the
floor! 'Do it yourself!' I'll proclaim! The managers will come see
what all the ruckus is about. 'I quit!' I'll loudly shout. The
managers will remind me of the policy that I cannot receive my last
paycheck until I turn in my uniform, even though I haven't even been
there long enough to get the first. 'Keep the ugly uniform' I'll
retort as I strip boldly down to my post preggo granny panties and my
breastfeeding tank top.
But then I realize that Mamasita will settle for more tape on the
burritos. Her eyes tell me that it's okay, I'll learn to wrap them
eventually, and then she proceeds to thank me so genuinely that I am
shamed for my mental outburst. The day dream me tries to put the pants
back on without falling over.

Today I hate the burritos. I can't even stand looking at them.
Teenagers can do this why not me? Have I really become that spoiled
from pouring drinks for so long that I can't learn something new?

I do everything I can to avoid confrontation with these burritos. I
make parfaits. I put together salads. I brew tea. I stock the fridge.
I break down boxes. I have the cleanest work area since Ceaser's
reign.
Until finally it's just me, the burritos, and two hours left in my
shift.

I aim to kill! I lay out a fight plan and execute! I wrap the burritos
so tight I'm sure they'll break. I'm gleefully replaying that episode
in Seinfeild in which Kramer uses these cuban cigar wrappers to wrap
crepes for the richy people and as they (the richy people) cut into
them they exploded! I envision the angry customers. Anticipating the
angst, and the angry calls each time the cooks come into my prep area
to grab one.
"There should have been a warning on the label!" They will cry. The
lawsuits will come pouring in. I will become directly linked to the
offending burritos.
"Why did you do it?" The lawyers will want to know. I, of course,
would have been advised not to comment by the McD's lawyers. Good move
on their part.
Then, finally, it is over. The ticking time bombs are all safely
stored away. My revenge is nigh.
Thats when they start hollering for apple pies.
I then noticed that I day dreamed too long to be able to go on break.
Realizing reality, I am able to rectify this situation by begging off
early (after the apple pies of course) and succeeding. Although I
don't have time to pluck my eyebrows (and I can't justify a waxing -
then it takes away from house monies) I can still pull off the puppy
dog eyes. Or maybe their labor was high and they were tired of me
wondering around in the back....
In either case I'm glad cause McD's has a stick up their arse about
only smoking when you're on break. Yeah I know, gross habit -
especially coming from a new mom. At least I was able to quit for
almost a year so the baby could breath while under water..... my
little inside voice doesn't remember that though. It got excited with
my bartending longing because I used to be able to smoke INSIDE while
WORKING!! Somehow the inside voice has forgotten about the no smoking
indoors ban that went into effect just as I realized I was preggo, so
even if I went back I wouldn't be able to smoke.
So I'm trying to dart out the door without raising suspicion (my
co-workers still think I'm sweet) when Gracy from the kitchen catches
me. I groan inwardly. Gracy trained me (once) and upon finding out I
had a baby the same age as her grandbaby has since decided it was okay
to go over every little 'baby' detail. (Why do people find it
necessary to compare babies? I got the best one ... geez)
"I thought you was in prep today" Ugh. I 'was' but do you really have
to talk like that? I mean sometimes I do Lobby and police little kids
about the sock rule, but only on weekends. And never when wearing the
godforsaken apron. Not that I said any of that to her. She's actually
really nice - when I'm not dying for a cigarette.
"Yeah, why?" go ahead ask me for more apple pies! They're already
made! (Who knew McD's baked the pies in house?) or anything else! I'll
just tell you I'm already off the clock! Just don't start in on the
baby!
"Your burritos looked good today."

Score! At least I'm off tomorrow :)

I'm off Mondays and Tuesdays, so guess how surprised I was to receive
a call to see if I can cover my mothers shift this weekend. Actually
that was not the surprising part. The surprising part was who called.


Can you guess?

It was my mom! Now she sports the same job title as me - if anything
she has senority over me but in no way does she have anything to do
with scheduling. So why is she calling me? I told her that if McD's
wants me to work different hours they can call me and speak to me
about it. She then proceeds to tell me that they are too busy to
contact me and that I am to speak about it through her.

Now I don't know how other places work but when I managed a Waffle
House I treated each of the employees as individuals. I had a married
couple, two guys that were dating and a mother daughter group, and I
always spoke to them personally when it came to discussing shift
changes, handing out paychecks and giving out new uniforms.
If my manager can't speak to me (it's now Tuesday - two days later)
because she cannot find the time to ask me to come in then maybe I
wont show up. Honestly what can they do fire me? Fine. I'll just go be
a hooker - Playboy says they aren't being hindered by this recession
and I bet my pimp would have the curtosey to address me personally.

Kidding.

But not about the showing up at work.

I was worried how my birthday-ness would go down since I'm on McD's
payroll but as it turns out I have four uncashed checks from my
previous employer! I used to bartend, and my old boss (My boyfriends
aunt) called yesterday to see 'What up wit dat' and is now re-issuing
my checks. I wont be much but it'll be more then nothing and prolly
well enough to get smashed since my pregnancy has trashed my drinking
tolerance.

Anyho - Easter kind of sucked. Ever since my sister died no one has
gone to church and since having the baby out of wedlock I don't feel
very welcomed there. So no palms, no ashes and no miracles. Just
working for eight hours and then ham. No one even got dressed up or
took pictures. Then my mother had the gull to ask me what I got my
daughter for Easter.
"Sorry I thought it was silly to buy anything for a three month for a
holiday we weren't even celebrating properly"
I was thus considered rude.
My point of view - Bills are tight, we're trying to get into a house,
my critter has more toys than she can master at the moment and right
now she should be greatfull that I'm not going back to bartending. So
why splurge when she wont even remember - especially when we have such
an out pouring of hand me down clothes, toys and books?

If I had it my way I wouldn't celebrate Easter or Christmas. I don't
consider myself Catholic any more, haven't gone to church in five
years and the last church member stopped speaking to me when I began
to show. It's just a waste of money that could be better spent on
quality time with family.

the very first thing they taught me at six o' three in the am was how
to pull off old date dots and stick on new ones on the salads. I won't
even tell you how I had to pick through the old lettuce to find the
"good" pieces to make "new" salads. Heck I wont even tell you how the
salad prep "jiggers" (buckets) with the cheeses and bacon bits were
date dotted for sunday - and I was asked to peel those off and re-dat
them for two days hence, making the new dots for sat? They meant the
dots hadn't been changed in a week? ew

So all in all - just stick with the fries and burgers.

On the other hand, I throughly enjoyed my time away from the kid. I
know, I know it can be hard when you first go back to work -
especially if you have a mother like mine who feels like bringing the
kid up on your break. Now you feel like you can't escape no matter
where you go. Thank Fortuna that this has only happened once, so on my
breaks I get to play with the grown ups and eat burgers and fries.
(Really it's not that I don't love the kid, I really do - I just
really love my time away from her)

So all in all even though McD's will never be as cool as any of my
other jobs (and I even delivered pizza!!) at least it's something. I'm
just glad to get out of the house and as long as I don't have to think
to hard at six o'clock in the morning then I think this might work,.

The last time I saw six in the morning I was going to bed. I can't
believe I actually have to be somewhere and functioning at six am. I
miss bartending where you role in around eleven in the morning. Even
if I closed the bar I'd have eight hours of time before going to work.
Now I'm going to have to drink in the afternoons like the sweet old
ladies from the AMVETs and Eagles clubs - lol. Not that I have anytime
to drink .... you would think that kids would want alone time or
something.

Thats okay - if I can hold out until May 30th - the babies daddy's
cousin is having a wedding!
"What was that Granny and Pop Pop? You want to watch the baby
during the reception? Okay fine .... if you need anything I'll just be
over here getting trashed." Lol sooo J/K!!

I did have a beer last Saturday when I went bowling. The first one in
a year. Kinda tasted gross. I guess drinking loses it's fun when you
have a short, howling roommate - I mean who wants a hangover with that
mess? How old do they have to be before shipping them on a plane by
themselves to see Granny and Pop Pop? Five? I can wait. I mean what's
five measly years when your only *mumblemumblemumble*

Tomorrow I'll be starting at McDonalds. Well my orientation is
tomorrow in any case. It'll be my first job since having a baby, and
my first time ever in a low end fast food joint. All my life I've been
a waitress or bartender for higher end places but in my area there are
just no jobs available. At least I'll be able to get insurance from
this job.
The thing that scares me the most is that it is right off of a
Greyhound bus station and I hear that the customers can get real
crabby when they feel rushed to get back to the bus. At least it's not
a tipping establishment. (J/K)

Any hoo - I'll get to see first hand what everyone complains about
from PFB!