|WORKER||USUAL SUNDAY WORKING TIME||BELIEVED WORKING TIME ON SATURDAY, AT 2 PM||BELIEVED WORKING TIME ON SUNDAY, AT 2 AM||BELIEVED WORKING TIME ON SUNDAY, AT MIDDAY|
The joy and the folly of being a staff member in an independent shop is usually the lack of structure incorporated therein. In this instance, on a Saturday afternoon co-worker S asked me if I could open the shop on Sunday, as he wanted to work the afternoon shift. This was all well and good, provided we could contact the third party, T, to get him to work the evening shift.
T, being the uncontactable type, was uncontactable during the Saturday work hours. The manager told us he would contact T and let him know of this situation - without fail. And he kept to his word. He did indeed manage to contact T where we couldn't.
T answered the call from the manager on the Sunday afternoon, on a bus, on his way to work.
Still. This is missing some of the story. So... to go back on myself; at 2 AM I was woken from sleep by panicked text messages and a call from S, informing me that he had... well, panicked earlier. He said he should do his morning shift, and I can do... well, actually, he had no idea. The afternoon shift, he supposed. After all, T would have been called by the manager to come in during the evening, so he had to be, surely!
Fair enough, my previously-dozing brain decided. I clumsily got out of bed and emailed Cara this information. As a local friend, she wanted to know when I worked on the day so she could meet me afterwards.
Of course, this meant I had to contact her again just after midday and explain meeting me after my shift would be difficult, what with T being on his way to work and all.
However, as a result of this, Cara and I still met at the shop on Sunday at 2. We then came back here and Kill Bill 2 was watched in amusing circumstances - this was a film Cara jumped at the chance to see, and she indeed jumped throughout the film subsequently. She explained an unease at seeing swords and the excess blood and gore on offer. It was a novel thing to learn at the time.
Still, it was a nice time spent here - and eventually back at work. She was the previously mentioned person who'd been in the shop for a while, and had never used a Gamecube controller. Super Monkey Ball perturbed her initially, but she had got into it by the evening's end.
Anyway, all was resolved and I went through the day relatively unscatched. The moral to this escapade is this, however: ATTACK YOUR CO-WORKERS IF THEY IRRATIONALLY TRY TO CHANGE THE STAFF ROTA.