Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Hey Y'all! Meet Huddle House!

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.

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."


Ally Gregory said...

Is her skin like brown leather due to too much tanning?

As a side note, I see people like "Huddle House" every where I go down here in the South. It is both sad and uplifting. Sad that these people exist. Yet uplifting because it makes me feel good about myself in comparison.

BlackLOG said...

Sadly my work place does not have any Huddle House’s – I have to go to the local supermarket to enjoy the delights of Huddle House watching. Shuffling around in track suits, grazing the food as they go down the aisles – I’ve yet to see them shagging but I guess it’s only a matter of time before I have to burn my eyes out....

Heather Rose said...

Dive bars in Mt Dora, Florida is apparently another natural habitat of these people. I think south/central Florida is where Univ of Tennessee sorority girls who didnt get their MRS degree go to die.

Jo said...

Dear gawd....you're gonna have plenty of horror-soaked blog material...my condolences.

Amanda said...

First your description of Huddle House is PRICELESS. It is an even whiter white trash version of Waffle House. (I can say that because I am from the South.)
I must say I have never stepped foot inside a Huddle House. Waffle House only at 3 am after shall we say some time at the bar. ;)

I have no real advice for you. Sorry dear. But you made my day with your hilarious blog. Silver lining, should you choose to see it, more blog material! :)

MonsteRawr said...

I had a co-worker who used to tell us about all the fun things you can do with a sock full of nails and some punk's skull. Of course then he sold illegal firearms to an undercover ATF agent and got himself locked up in federal prison for three years, so, you know, problem solved.

Biped said...

When I worked at a toy store, my manager (we started at the same time) had no retail experience, couldn't count, couldn't make change, couldn't work the register, couldn't work the phone, didn't know how to use the Internet, didn't know what Microsoft Excel was... Honestly, I tried to teach her, but every time I did, she accused me of thinking I was smarter than her. (Which was true.)

Eventually, I just did her job and mine while she played with toys.

Jason said...

Not really where I work now, but have had some in the past. That was so damn funny.

Britt said...

I don't exactly have a Huddle House... but I do have an older man who looks suspiciously like Danny DeVito and smokes like a chimney. He eats candy like no one's business and talks about his diabetes.
And you can bet your ass he wears Hawaiian shirts to work as "business casual."

My thoughts are with you.

Tazer Warrior Princess said...

Pictures or it didn't happen. :P

L-Kat said...

Sadly, I am the Huddle House of the workplace.

I kid. My fellow graduate student friends are actually pretty classy for being in the mid-late twenties and living under the poverty line.

Kathy S said...

Aww, that sounds like a horrible person to work with.

Shane Pilgrim said...

Ugh. She sounds like a real winner. I don't have any such pity-hires at my workplace, but I'm familiar with the type. Ignorant, rude people who shouldn't be allowed to hold a job, reproduce, or even exist. Don't you just want to look at Huddle House one day and say, "Your mother should have swallowed you"?

Good luck, Allie! In my experience it seems that even the most protected of the lousy employees will eventually dig their own grave.


Allie said...

Ally- Yes it is! She is one walking pre-cancerous mole. And I completely agree about the HHs of the world. They're good for the ego.

BlackLog- Too bad, but don't worry you can live vicariously through me.

Heather- I'll have to plan a hunting trip down in that area soon!

Jo- Thank you! Your condolences are appreciated.

Amanda- Thank you! But I must suggest that you get shitfaced and go to a Huddle House. It's horrible and amazing all at the same time.

Monster- Hmmm... I'm sure you learned some necessary life skills from him.

Biped- Haha! Your manager sounds a lot like my manager.

Jason- Thank you!

Britt- LMFAO. He sounds awesome!

Tazer- Pics to come! Don't say I didn't warn you.

L-Kat- Lol I knew you couldn't be a Huddle House, bc she has no idea how to use an "internet box."

Kathy- Basically! I appreciate the sympathy.

Shane- Lol I may very well tell her that her mother should have swallowed her!

And here's hoping she digs her own grave.

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