Big happenings.

First of all, I appreciate my readers' concern on my last post. I have started saying 'policia!' when he bothers me, and it stops all contact. At least until his drunk ass forgets three hours later, but whatever.

Anyway, the past few days have been exciting at the diner. On Monday, I broke. All the aforementioned personal shit came to a head when the crazy cook (I believe I've mentioned Mumbles before) continuously fucked up my orders and kept blaming it on me. I started bawling. And I could not stop. The hostess and day girl who was casually eating her shift meal before leaving had to completely take over, because I was incoherent. I sat in the back station and cried and cried for what felt like hours. Finally, I went into the bathroom and composed myself as much as I could. I tried to discreetly grab the hostess, but at this point, I didn't care too much. I told her I was sorry, but I had to go home.
"Blondie, I think if you just calm down, you can get back on the floor."
I told her, "Honestly, I don't think I can. And even if I could, my makeup looks like Ozzy Osbourne did it while recovering from a bad acid trip."
They told me to get it together as much as I could before leaving, they didn't want me driving so upset, but they would figure it out.

I was a little bothered by the fact that they were more concerned about getting me back on the floor than they were about my little freak-out, but at least in the end they had my back. What bothered me more is that at the end of the day, the cook who triggered me suffered no consequences. He stayed, he got his paycheck, while I missed out on an entire shift and received no apology.

Then, the next day, everyone around me was walking on eggshells. I hate gossip. I hated every head-tilt, every pat on the back, every "are you okay?" It had been less than twenty-four hours and everyone thought I was a mental case. Lord knows what the end result was after it went through the grapevine. My only saving grace was the cook who is part-owner. He came to me, (in broken English, adorably) and told me it would be okay. If I ever had a problem again, I had his number. He would come whenever he could, or send someone else to fix it. He said "I know you five years, and this isn't you."
I really appreciated that.

Then, today, one of the new(ish) girls caused an issue. Ever since she started, we all thought she was a little off. Nice enough, but very slow in her movements and speech. Someone said it seemed like she was on sedatives. Then, rumors were going around that she smelled like alcohol, from both customers and coworkers. We noticed when she went for a cigarette break, she went to her car rather than out back where the other smokers go, possibly because she had a bottle in there. She was warned a few times, told that she was free to smoke, but had to stay close enough to grab if a table needed her or she was sat, etc.
She did it again tonight. More than once. Finally, our night manager went out and said, "I'm so sorry, honey, this isn't working. You can pick up your paycheck tomorrow, but you're done."
She left. She called three times and our manager told her, "We're in the middle of dinner right now, but I promise I will call you when I can." And I know she meant it.
A half hour later, this bitch shows up! Manager says, "Blondie, hold down the fort, I'm going to talk to her outside."
Comes in about 15 minutes later and runs to me while I'm picking up food.
"She threatened me."
"She did what?"
"She told me I better be careful leaving the diner at night from now on."
the fuck?

Of course this shit is on the night I close, and we have to watch our backs when we leave.
So manager files a report with the police (possible overkill), and we have one of the cooks stay with us until the minute we walk out and lock the doors in our cars. We were fine, thank gosh, but who does that?

Sorry if it's a bit of a TL;DR, but it felt good to get all that off my chest, dear readers.