Sugar Town (arrival, part 2)

Published July 1, 2011 by Dorothy

So that’s it: I’m officially on my week end! So I’ll start these two days of complete and utter freedom by pouring myself some Margarita and updating the aul blog! I can now tell you about the beginning of the Floridian adventure! I will skip all the boring details about the first days of welcome sessions and skip directly to the first day of work, shall I ?

Day 1 :

a few of us new Cast Members got in the bus. Having heard all sorts of Urban Legends about work at the bakery being extremely difficult, we are all scared out of our mind and very skittish, so it took us a little while to realise the girl we had sat next to was also French. She was tiny and had a small, heart shaped pixie face. She told us she also worked in the bakery and so we pressed her with all sorts questions like “did anybody survive the job?” and all. Pixie Girl smiled at our anxiety and dismissed all the Urban Legends with a wave of her tiny hand, so I felt a little reassured.

We then followed Pixie Girl who hurried out of the bus, like a row of little ducklings (and we really looked like ducklings with the bright yellow shirts of our uniforms) onto the next bus and in the bakery. As soon as we were in she ran off someplace wishing us good luck; then the manager greeted us and told us to go to the kitchen where our “lead” would tell us what to do. Pixie Girl was there, bent over some food that she was apparently setting on fire; then she yelled for someone to come pick up the burnt stuff “Creme Brulée!” she shouted in a voice bigger than herself. Then she pointed at us one by one “you! Go to line one! You!to stock! you! stop talking when I’m talking! You! (me) drinks two!” Turned out our Pixie Girl was the lead and she got to boss us around! hadn’t see that one coming!

So Pixie Girl sent me to drinks, which is quite easy : All I had to do was ask people if they wanted any drinks and pour them some of whatever they asked for,and also keep the bin near the exit empty, plus I had to restock the table with all the plastic cutlery and sugar, cream and straws. Each of us were assigned a “trainer”, meaning someone who was here longer than us and could explain everything about the job. My trainer should really pursue a career in education, he’s the coolest trainer ever 🙂

I spent the rest of the day serving drinks with Trainer who didn’t get mad when I made mistakes even when I spilled Iced cappuccino on his freshly polished shoes and when a little blue haired granny shouted her head off at him because I’d forgotten to put ice in her drink.

Day two :

Time to try ou the line, where we serve food to guests. and  be paired up with a new trainer! A little nervous, I walked up to the line only to find my same trainer, fortunately! He looked a bit drained when he saw me coming (and did he look at his new shoes and flich? I shall never know) but anyway I was glad I didn’t change trainer.Everything went smoothly except when I had to call out guests to my register.

“you have to call out loud” Trainer advised. I was shy but I would do it, I thought.

“Bonjour,” I shouted on top of my lungs “come over this side!”

But then I turned to Trainer so happy with myself for speaking superloud and he cleared his throat.

“Humhum,louder, trainee, they can’t hear you if you’re muttering like that!”

“but, but!that’s the loudest I can do!” I said, offended, and Trainer laughed heartily.

“go again” Trainer said and I tried again to call people. Nobody budged or even turned their heads and at my third attemps, Trainer called out bright and clear, covering up my voice with his, and as soon as he spoke, heads snapped up and a whole herd came to our line.(note to self : there’s no way I can speak that loud. Should buy myself a vuvuzela)

(to be continued in next post)

m xxx

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: