Short & Silly
Yesterday I introduced you to my sister, Gabby (Gabriella). She's a beautiful and remarkable woman, but she was never meant for the workforce--especially to work with the public. When she was 17, she got a job at the mall. Every kid wants to work in the mall, she was no exception. She had already been dating her future husband for over a year, and she insisted he sit on a bench and wait for her as she started her first day at the cookie factory.
Her manager trained her to not break the cookies when weighing a pound for the customer. "The proper thing to do is ask the customer if it is permissible to weigh a little more than a pound. They always say yes, and we make a little extra money."
That sounds reasonable, yet nothing is normal in my family. Gabby's first customer asked for a pound of cookies and when she weighed them and said, "It's a little over a pound, is that okay?" The woman snarled that she wanted a pound. Gabby removed a cookie and stated, "It's a little less than a pound, is that a problem?"
The woman then sunk into a barrage of humiliating statements. "Did I ask for 'about' a pound? I asked for a pound, no more, no less. You do know what a pound is, don't you? Perhaps I should buy cookies from the zoo, the monkeys would understand what a pound means better than you."
Wrong thing to say to Gabriella. "Maybe you'd feel at home at the zoo, perhaps you should go there. Cause even a monkey would know that breaking a cookie just to get a pound makes no sense. Who wants half a cookie? Only someone with half a brain."
Of course the customer demanded the manager, and Gabby was reprimanded. That was another mistake. Gabby started hollering, "You have a problem with me? I have a problem with this place. There's roaches in the kitchen, so many I was afraid to even touch the counter or they might crawl on me. And for what? Frozen cookie dough? You should just put a sign on the entrance that says Pillsbury, cause that store bought dough would make better cookies than these."
When her boyfriend heard her yelling, he ran to the store and pulled her out of there. She had worked only three hours, never received her paycheck, and my mother paid more for the uniform work shirt than she would have made in those three hours anyway.
Gabby and Dominic got married about ten years later, and have since been together almost forty years. A major feat for any relationship, they definitely belong together. A few years ago, they owned a deli that served hoagies (yes, here they are hoagies, not subs or hero sandwiches). Dominic should have known to keep her from the public, but he released her like an irresponsible dog owner allowing an attack dog to roam the streets.
A customer entered the shop and ordered a six inch hoagie. However, she wanted the roll sliced in half. She didn't want the meat on the sandwich, and wanted each ingredient "on the side". Gabby wrapped the lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and meat separately in wax paper. She also put oil, mayo, and peppers in little plastic cups. To make up for the paper, cups, and tape used, she charged the woman an extra dollar. The woman flipped out yelling, "What the hell is this? You charged me a dollar for what?"
Because I have more respect for the public than she does, I can't tell you what Gabby said to this woman, but believe me, it was bad-- something even I would not say, and I wrote Erotica! I will say that the woman then called the shop later that day. She asked for the owner, and Gabby's adult son got on the phone. The woman demanded Gabby be fired, and of course, that was not going to happen. When Gabby realized it was that customer on the phone, she started yelling again. Her poor son was stuck between the caller and his mother, and he tried to be diplomatic as the woman demanded she be fired. "Ma'am, I understand how you feel. But the woman to whom you are referring is my mother. If you want a free sandwich, I can have one waiting for you."
Gabby continued yelling, "She ain't gettin' nothing!"
The public will be pleased to know that Gabby went back to being a stay-at-home Mom.
Stay tuned for tomorrow's story of how I lost my sister's BMW in a strange city :)
Her manager trained her to not break the cookies when weighing a pound for the customer. "The proper thing to do is ask the customer if it is permissible to weigh a little more than a pound. They always say yes, and we make a little extra money."
That sounds reasonable, yet nothing is normal in my family. Gabby's first customer asked for a pound of cookies and when she weighed them and said, "It's a little over a pound, is that okay?" The woman snarled that she wanted a pound. Gabby removed a cookie and stated, "It's a little less than a pound, is that a problem?"
The woman then sunk into a barrage of humiliating statements. "Did I ask for 'about' a pound? I asked for a pound, no more, no less. You do know what a pound is, don't you? Perhaps I should buy cookies from the zoo, the monkeys would understand what a pound means better than you."
Wrong thing to say to Gabriella. "Maybe you'd feel at home at the zoo, perhaps you should go there. Cause even a monkey would know that breaking a cookie just to get a pound makes no sense. Who wants half a cookie? Only someone with half a brain."
Of course the customer demanded the manager, and Gabby was reprimanded. That was another mistake. Gabby started hollering, "You have a problem with me? I have a problem with this place. There's roaches in the kitchen, so many I was afraid to even touch the counter or they might crawl on me. And for what? Frozen cookie dough? You should just put a sign on the entrance that says Pillsbury, cause that store bought dough would make better cookies than these."
When her boyfriend heard her yelling, he ran to the store and pulled her out of there. She had worked only three hours, never received her paycheck, and my mother paid more for the uniform work shirt than she would have made in those three hours anyway.
Gabby and Dominic got married about ten years later, and have since been together almost forty years. A major feat for any relationship, they definitely belong together. A few years ago, they owned a deli that served hoagies (yes, here they are hoagies, not subs or hero sandwiches). Dominic should have known to keep her from the public, but he released her like an irresponsible dog owner allowing an attack dog to roam the streets.
A customer entered the shop and ordered a six inch hoagie. However, she wanted the roll sliced in half. She didn't want the meat on the sandwich, and wanted each ingredient "on the side". Gabby wrapped the lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and meat separately in wax paper. She also put oil, mayo, and peppers in little plastic cups. To make up for the paper, cups, and tape used, she charged the woman an extra dollar. The woman flipped out yelling, "What the hell is this? You charged me a dollar for what?"
Because I have more respect for the public than she does, I can't tell you what Gabby said to this woman, but believe me, it was bad-- something even I would not say, and I wrote Erotica! I will say that the woman then called the shop later that day. She asked for the owner, and Gabby's adult son got on the phone. The woman demanded Gabby be fired, and of course, that was not going to happen. When Gabby realized it was that customer on the phone, she started yelling again. Her poor son was stuck between the caller and his mother, and he tried to be diplomatic as the woman demanded she be fired. "Ma'am, I understand how you feel. But the woman to whom you are referring is my mother. If you want a free sandwich, I can have one waiting for you."
Gabby continued yelling, "She ain't gettin' nothing!"
The public will be pleased to know that Gabby went back to being a stay-at-home Mom.
Stay tuned for tomorrow's story of how I lost my sister's BMW in a strange city :)
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