“You’re Letting The Team Down” Says Manager To Sick Waiter Like He Gives Even The Slightest Fuck — The Betoota Advocate

"You're Letting The Team Down" Says Manager To Sick Waiter Like He Gives Even The Slightest Fuck — The Betoota Advocate

ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

A waiter sick in bed with something that resembles the flu has been told by his boss that he needed to come into work over the weekend because if he didn’t, he’d be letting the team down.

Rather than simply sack him on the spot like the good old days, restaurant manager Dirk Van Hooten has to reframe the way he speaks to his workers because in this day and age, casual hospitality workers can just walk out of one venue and into another.

The 25-year-old working-holidayer explained to The Advocate that at his French Quarter venue, just finding staff is hard enough.

“Years ago, I would just tell them to be there at the start of their shift and if they weren’t, they wouldn’t get any more,” he said.

“But now, I have to say they’re going to let their work friends down, that they’ll have to cover them. That maybe even I’ll have to cover their shift or God forbid, the owner. I’ve had staff tell me to get fucked and walk over the road and start immediately. It’s horrible.”

However, the waiter in question, says he doesn’t care about his team or even the business. He especially doesn’t care about Dirk and made repeated claims to our reporter that “he’s going to get what’s coming to him”.

He asked to remain anonymous he can continue to have such an attitude at his next place of work.

“I think I have the virus but you don’t need to know these days so I’m not going to blow 45 minutes pay on one test down at the chemist so I’ll just try to stay isolated for the next few days,” he said

“So I did the right thing and I told the boss I was sick and he said he didn’t care, he needed me to come in [laughs] What a clown. Then he went on to say I’m to let the team down. What team?”

“The head chef is a degenerate alcoholic coke fiend with a short temper and body odour. The restaurant manager is a genuine poon. A sanctimonious creep. The commie is a good bloke but he’s in the same boat as me. The other waiters are so drenched on weed gummies that they’d fuck up a continental breakfast. The owner has as much business nous as a rich man’s son,”

“So yeah, I don’t care.”

More to come.

Author: Stephen Bailey