[In response to havingbeenbreathedout’s post about working in food service]
When I was working at a coffee shop in New York, we wrapped up money in Saran Wrap to be picked up by the manager in the morning. And one of my predecessors has seen an opportunity and just walked away with the plastic shopping bag with $1000 in Saran Wrapped bills in it. But his friend and (suspected) co-conspirator, Sprite, was still working with me. One afternoon, Sprite, who was very short and skinny, came in so loaded he fell asleep on the shelf of the cookie cart in the back room. And when the manager asked me why the bakery had been so messy the next morning, I told him that Sprite wasn’t feeling well, and I had done my best to run it alone. And he said, “Yeah, Sprite has some interesting ideas about recreational drug use,”
I did have one customer develop a crush on me, though I was pretty oblivious. He sold color copy machines door to door to local businesses, and I guess he was always in the shop mooning at me, but I never noticed until Sprite pointed it out. Then me and Xerox guy had a pretty awkward conversation in front of the shop where I tried to telepathically tell him how uninterested I was in him without being a dick about it
Also, when I was working in the Haight Ashbury, I had to spend a huge amount of my mental energy monitoring the bathroom for how long people had been spending in there so no one would have time to OD. But after I left to go to graduate school, someone did die in the bathroom on my successor’s shift. Which is terrible and must have been incredibly traumatic. I bet no one had even told him bathroom guard was part of his job