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| Found here. |
Today was one of the craziest days in my (almost) three years of working at BYU's Jamba Juice. It was so ridiculous that I just had to laugh.
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| Our two lovely locations. Awwww. Found here. |
Background:
We have two Jamba Juice locations on BYU campus - one in the Wilkinson Student Center, and one on the other side of campus by the athletic buildings. I've spent most of my time in the Wilk store, which is much bigger and busier. While I know the Wilk store like the back of my hand, I've only worked at the SAB store three times before today. For the first time, I've been given a shift down at the SAB - a Team Lead shift. That means I'm supposed to be in charge of the other employees and know what I'm doing...which can cause problems. It's hard to be a good leader when you don't know where anything is kept, but I do my best.
Part One:
My first shift today was at the Wilk. It was smooth sailing, since we don't get many customers between 7:30 and 11:00 AM. However, we did have an older man named Alfonso ask for carrot juice with the pulp on the side. My co-worker juiced the carrots and put the little bit of thicker stuff that didn't go through the strainer in an extra cup. When she gave the man his juice, he said, "No! I want the meat of the carrot. It has good fiber!" So, poor Elizabeth got into the cabinet under the carrot machine where the pulp falls and dumped the good ol' "meat" into a cup for Alfonso. (Don't worry, it was clean under there!) He was much happier with this arrangement, and proceeded to pour some of the carrot juice onto the pulp. Now, here's the question - why doesn't he just eat a bag of carrots?! Creative answers are welcomed for submission.
Part Two:
This is the crazy part of the story. At noon, I went down to work at the SAB store. One of our juice dispensers had gone on the fritz and had been randomly spitting out juice and water since the wee hours of the morning, leaving the floor wet and sticky. There were no clean blenders, a line of camp kids out the door, and only three people working. And one of them left when I came in.
"We're out of ones...and pennies," Elizabeth told me from the register. At the Wilk, we get our change from a special Cougareat money room, but the SAB keeps its change in a safe - a safe that, only having worked there three times, I didn't know the comb for. I called our managers up at the Wilk to get the combo. It didn't work. I called again, and this time got the right one. There were no one dollar bills in the safe, so I had to call the money room to have them delivered.
"We're out of strawberries," our other co-worker called out. We dug around in the fridge for a good 5 minutes until we found some more. Meanwhile, the line got longer.
"We're out of lemonade" was heard 15 minutes later, and "we're out of mop heads" was another 5 minutes after that. And half of our sherbets were hard, making it a pain to scoop them.
The camp kids finally left at 1:15, ending a 2-hour, non-stop rush.
We washed the dishes, wiped the counters, mopped the floor with a bunch of rags Elizabeth had tied to the mop handle, and laughed at the crazy mess we had barely survived.
Last year, some of us would joke about what "Jamba Hell" would be like. I'm pretty sure I lived through it today.
But hey, at least I didn't have to wear the banana suit.
| Found here. |
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