|Me in my thug life uniform that's two sizes too big even though it's a zero.|
Ya'll. Don't get me wrong...I absolutely wholeheartedly 100% lovelovelove working at that place called CFA. I loved it so much I left a love note on the line up one day that went something like "i <3 CFA!" True love right there. But I can't for the life of me figure out why they want a girl as tiny and weak as me to work there. And klutzy because I am that too. Exhibit A...
Let's set the scene. It's lunch on a Wednesday and it's the busiest I've seen CFA in a while. There's four people on front counter and we still have a considerable line on each register. I spin around with a lemonade in my hands and set it down on the counter, start snapping on the lid and my hand spazzes out knocking over the FULL cup of lemonade towards the customers. It was not my finest moment. I froze and the guy next to me was like "Breathe!" Cut scene.
And let's not forget how I was making a milkshake, ran out of lids, opened them, and half of them flew every which way. Annaliese slow clapped. Diana laughed. It was awesome. SARCASM. Or there's the time I was opening a roll of nickels and they went flying everywhere. Things fly when I'm around...and not in the "Oh look at that pretty birdy!" kind of way.
Oh and I saved the best for last...I was doing Drive Thru cashier (my favorite!) and give the guy the wrong order. A manager had to go run after him and switch out his order. I'm in the fetal position up against the wall for the remainder of the afternoon.
Those are the adventures of SA working at CFA, ya'll. And that was only this week. Want me to take your order now? ;)