Sad Tragedy

Wonderland II

Magic.
  Ever since returning back from the States, life was ever more so sweet, as if it wasn't already in the first place. We went back to our old Subway franchise and asked the manager if we could have our positions back as sandwich artists at the same branch operating out of that mall, and to our surprise, he agreed without a doubt since the franchise is currently going through a severe understaffing and sometimes they have to close the shops which didn't turn a lot of profit for them — which included the one we worked at during our Spring break which felt like ages ago. And since we were the only two that were so cool and keen in joining their dilapidating chain, the manager wasted no time give us the job application form, and within less than thirty minutes from us submitting the forms, we were handed the obligations and employment notice form whereby we were required to begin the very next day with double morning shifts to restart the formally discontinued service line of the outlet.

  The next day marked the beginning of our jobs once again at the same place we worked months ago. While the pay was not really matching anyone's standards by now, however, still higher than that of the golden arches, we saw the best of it and worked since anyways, no one goes there and why let such a great opportunity for us to share our relentless love together drift away. We begun the day by moving boxes and boxes of fresh veggies and meat back into the rather abandoned storefront, and since having closed one week prior to our takeover due to short-staffing, the store was almost coated in a dusty mess, and freezers that literally coats ice with layers more as it continues to blow out cold air for nothing in it. Vending machines for the few selections of fizzy drinks were producing air instead of anything relative to liquid matter while the storeroom just looked like a hellhole of delicate cardboard mess, with ripped opened cardboard everywhere on the floor, resembling the state of a robbery, when nothing actually happened.

  So, as nice employees who not just saved the company from shuttering another store permanently out of sight, we helped to clean and groomed it back to its normal service state. Alexander begun with the re-washing of all the cambros, equipments and wiping down the fridges and ovens, while I begun clearing up messes accumulated over the week, from sweeping, wiping to packing. And although it might seem like a prepensely difficult and frustrating thing to do, it was quite rather fine because anyways, this is what we would normally do everyday when we open and close the store as part of our employment obligation, and the fact that we are lovers working side by side together just makes such chores seem like a non-existent problem to begin with.

  However so, the first week or job was not a good one even with him by my side. First, since we were not in practice in that job for quite some time, we had lost touch of certain aspects of the procedures and whatnot — even the basics like slicing the bread roll at a tilted angle of 45 degrees to ensure utmost symmetry was forgotten. And the few customers that came in on the first two days since re-opening wasn't what we'd picture as pleasant or easy customers. While I understand their complete frustration and impatience in how we're doing the job and trying to re-adapt, there was no reason for them to scream at our faces like complete and utter bitches, ridiculing us not just for our job quality, but also even our family? Like fuck off for once and think what you would feel if you're in our shoes you insensitive piece of shit.

  While I always feel the strong urge to push my boundaries and scream back at them to rebut and break their perfect barriers, the policy of customers being always right regardless of the circumstances and its accompanying consequences just slightly limits my attitude might of just bursting their small worthless bubbles of protection from being verbally and even sometimes, physically abused. While Alexander also gets insulted like this sometimes, he was fortunate since he was always doing the kitchen duty, preparing all the veggies, meats and sauces, far away from the reach of those selfish customers who only seem to have one thing in their sorry minds — themselves. Don't get me wrong, I also experienced such torment if you will as a customer, but I don't shout at the staff or do anything to insult their modesty because hey, it isn't right at all unless the staff did or say something to provoke you, in which way, spill as many profanities as you want. I don't care.