A Med Situation

MVWJ was at a Mediterranean pizza restaurant. I was in high school and tired of always being broke so I applied to almost any job with a “Help Wanted” sign. I met M there and was hired as a waitress from 5 p.m. to 10 p.m. weekdays, I didn’t make it to the weekend to figure out my schedule.

My young mind ignored the abundance of red flags that went up. They never threw away any food, no matter how stale. I didn’t see M or the other cook, A, ever wash their hands and the dishes were never properly or thoroughly washed. I didn’t eat there so I didn’t say anything about the hazardous handling of food. Aside from the occasional table in the ghostly restaurant, I took phone delivery orders. People would order strange things not offered on any menu, I’ve ever seen but I would take the order anyway thinking the customer was someone who has ordered from there before. M would scold me in broken English about not knowing the menu, I’d apologize and try again.

I became very irritated at M attempting to reprimand me thing that weren’t related to my job at all. I was scolded for not eating, he said, “How can you sit for hours and no eat?” I thought to myself about the food poisoning I would get if I did so. Another part of my job was to warm up individual slices of pizza, that was served on plain paper plates. The dirt cheap thin plates that couldn’t hold much. I would double up on the plates so they’d be more sturdy. Again, I was bitched at. I quit at the end of my shift, I didn’t go back for my pay.