Dry your eyes, kiddos. Your favorite blogista is back from a weeklong hiatus, one which involved me stuffing my face with pieces of gravy-soaked pumpkin pie and stabbing a person with a whittled down toothbrush over a discounted iPad.
It was awesome.
But alas, back to reality, which means back to latte making.
Normally being a professional latte-maker is a pretty big pain in the ass. Primarily, because I have to deal with assface customers who treat coffee like it's a hit of crack, but recently my store has been made less than desirable because of a new employee.
Like any workplace, mine has it's unsightly cast of characters: the slightly racist orange girl, the Asian fetishist, the World of Warcraft player. But all these people have been put to shame after the recent pity-hire of a woman who I will lovingly refer to as “Huddle House.”
For those not familiar with the Deep South diner-chain known as Huddle House, let me give you the lowdown. It's like Waffle House's white-trash cousin. It's only acceptable when completely drunk, because the likelihood of finding a band-aid in your omelet is pretty fucking high. You will also always see one or more of the following while dining: spousal abuse, child abuse, malt liquor in a brown paper bag, ropes as belts, bare feet, Nascar tattoos and/or Looney Tunes tattoos, etc.
Now my co-worker “Huddle House” is a woman in her early 50s, has undoubtedly smoked three packs of Marlboro Reds everyday since she was 6, calls everyone "mama," and I'm pretty sure was only recently released from prison.
These facts would not be so horrible if they were the only problems, but besides making every member of the Westboro Baptist Church look like a classy motherfucker, she also has no idea how to make a drink after being an employee at our store for over a month. She also doesn't know how to pronounce the name of drinks. She also doesn't know how to count all that well... or spell.
Basically, she personifies every negative stereotype that revolves around white people in the South.
Oh, and she fucked a customer. For money more than likely.
And she is basically un-fireable because she is the mother of my manager's best friend.
And she is basically un-fireable because she is the mother of my manager's best friend.
So this is what I'm dealing with at work, which is why I'm going to start pre-gaming before all of my shifts.
But I know I can't be alone on this guys. Do any of you have a “Huddle House” at your workplace? I want to hear some co-worker horror stories. I need something to give me strength when this woman talks about being a "tiger in the sack."
