I've been a server and bartender since I was 16. Bartender obviously after I turned 21 :P, but anyhow...

Working where I currently am now has had it's ups and downs as I'm sure many places. After two years and a squeaky clean record of no write ups, no problems whatsoever, bam three in a month. Thank you to our lovely new management team.

Here's some insight on the assholes that I work for.

The GM is a total spaztic. He came from outside of the company and has the attention span of a gnat on crack. Now, I'm not knocking dyslexia by a mile since I suffered as a child, but have learned to slow down and take my time in reading and writing. This guy gets so excited that EVERY order sent out from the kitchen (if he's playing the expediting role) all fucked up. Like, the kind of fucked up where there's a date label right on top of the mashed potatoes and doesn't notice it. Seriously? It's purple. When it made it to one of my tables, (having this label make it past the cook, the expediter GM, and the food runner) needless to say, they were pissed at such a careless mistake. Yet, he says "It happens" oh so nonchalantly, but yet it's my fault despite the fact I'm on the floor and hadn't seen the kitchen in two hours aside from grabbing drinks. So a write up it is. For me. How's that work out? >.>

Another instance was a bartending shift. I was totally set up. First of the month, folks have their first of the month money, pay checks and what have you. Fine, I can handle pressure. I thrive off of it in some instances. However, what I can't handle is being set up to fail. When I say this, I mean there's not another soul in the building aside from cooks and the one manager we did have that was over 21 or had an idea on how to help. This is problem number one. Number two is the daytime bartender bounced her happy ass out long before I even arrived and left me with no mixers, no beer, two kegs dry as a bone, half the dishes dirty, no fruit cut, and with no low liquors replaced. -.- This particular night my bar was 2-3 people deep all the way around the horseshoe and I was 7 tickets deep off the printer with 3 or more different drinks on each one. Yet, when I asked for help? The manager refused to come from the kitchen, leaving me completely weeded. But somehow I'm supposed to wait on 30+ folks and get all those drinks out within 2 minutes. Amazing.

The topper to the whole thing. Is this. We've had several pregnant girls working the entirety of their pregnancy, and when I say all of it, I mean like the day they lose their mucus plug, they're in the middle of a heavy shift. For those that've never had children, losing your mucus plug is the very beginning of the baby saying "BITCH IMMA COMMIN FOR THE LIGHT." I'm in understanding that for things to be successful, you have to run a tight ship. Management is supposed to be a bunch of assholes, but when there's no compassion what so ever and "Her health and welfare isn't my concern and if she goes into labor, tough shit, she'll have to find cover before having the kid" was way too much for me to handle.

I turned in my two weeks notice last Friday. A stern staff I can work for. An uncaring one? Not so much. It was either quit or get fired. Because..frankly, every day I go into this place I go into rage mode. I dispise the management to the point that my adrenaline pumps and I nearly black out in anger if one of them is unecessarily disrespectful to me or my coworkers. It takes all I have in me to just walk away rather than punch them in the fucking throat. >.< And now, I nap.