I was *SO* close to quitting work tonight.
Obviously, as in Random Thoughts, I have/had torn ligaments in my ankle. So I specifically requested no Friday nights or Saturday nights, trying to ease myself into it.
So a 5-9 shift didn't seem too bad. One of the girls I work with left when I arrived, fair enough, and my manager was due in at 5:30. From 5-5:30, we had the...sorry, I had the post-work rush. Absolutely heaving, we have an L-shaped bar, and I was absolutely swamped. Sakes.
Then, at about 5:40, my manager rocks up, makes a small apology, which I dutifully accepted, and cracked on.
6pm, she says "gotta go" and just leaves. No idea where or why, but we suddenly became 2-deep all the way round. This is so tough, and I'm rapidly running out of glasses. I think the last people I served were waiting about 10-15 minutes. I just gave them their drinks for free, with massive apologies. To which, give them their due, they said they couldn't accept, so to speak, because they could see the situation I was in.
So yeah, 8pm, and the first girl comes back, and I just do a HUGE glass session, did about 5 trays of them, got the shelves re-stocked and walked out. I was asked to work later than 9, and I would have done, had I not been on my own for the majority of the previous 4 hours.
Pricks.
Rant over.