Tag Archives: customer service

An Open Letter To All Things Pizza Hut


To the general presence of Pizza Hut,

Since I am no longer a slave under your employ, I feel it completely necessary to release the vile feelings I’ve been forced to keep inside for the past two-odd years concerning you. I must warn you that while the composition of this letter will be remarkably therapeutic for me, it may be at times inelegantly written, and show no signs of the self-educated woman that I am. Let me begin with something that I’ve been waiting to say for some time:

FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ahem. Now that I have gotten that off of my sizeable chest, I will move on to everything that is wrong with your corporation.

Let me first say that the customer is NOT always right. Especially in the case of your customers. Yes, there may have been an occasion or two where extra cheese was not administered as requested,  or tomatoes were placed on a super-supreme pizza (which is completely inappropriate), but I stand by the fact that I did NOT jip you on your toppings, and every pizza made by my own two work-worn hands was properly spec-ed and lovely to behold. Because your company has the policy that you should give the customer “whatever they want”, you can surely expect that at some point you will run out of money after giving away free food to all  the trashy motha-fuckas who lie to get a comped meal. To this I say- it is your own goddamn fault.

Secondly, it is shameful that you pay your shift managers such low wages. Truly, when promoting your team members to such a status, you should include in fine print this:

We promise to work you until you bleed, if not outwardly, at least until you suffer from stomach ulcers because of stress. You will be forced to work all holidays and weekends without any thanks, and if you refuse to work any of the afore mentioned days, you will be shunned by our district managers and dramatically have your hours cut. You will NEVER receive any type of raise until you are so frustrated that you find a new job, at which time, we may consider gifting you with  our feigned appreciation and only a miniscule raise- enough to keep you in our chains. If at any time you tell your overseeing managers exactly what you think of them or their performance, even if it perfectly accurate and politically-correctly stated, you too will be shunned.

To the Pizza Hut customers,

I will admit that there are a few of you who are endearing and affable. To you, I show my utmost appreciating for having made my stay in Hell a little less horrifying.

To the rest of you, the entire uncivilized lot of you, I must once again show how uneloquent I can be.

FUCK YA’LL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To those of you who would seat yourselves, completely ignoring the sign that distinctly states, “PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED”, as well as overlooking the fact that I and my fellow coworkers are human beings, and will greet and seat you at your convenience, I must say that you are pitiful creatures, and it is my hope that at some point in your despicable little lives someone treats you as though you are not worthy of basic consideration.

To those of you who insist on no pork coming in contact with your food, and a clean blade being used to cut your halal food, I will say that if you asked once, and politely, and in no way treated me as an inferior person, I followed your requests religiously. (I even wore gloves.) To those of you who made such requests in an incredibly rude and obnoxious manner (i.e. repeating said request as though I were in some way deaf or not listening, using an outside voice though we were clearly indoors, acting as though my female anatomy deemed me unworthy of human decency) even though I had helped you in the past and could clearly tell you were Muslim by your burquas, I will tell you that my hand may have once or twice slipped into the nasty, dirty, unkosher pork before touching your chicken pizza. I just can’t remember for sure.

To a certain district manager,

To quote every employee that ever came in contact with you who were not of the naïve and unknowing variety:

“You’re a piece of shit.”

I will admit, in the beginning, I was one of these naïve people, and was momentarily distracted by your lovely masculine height and vibrant blue eyes. In fact, I recall turning down a job at an amazing craft store when you asked me to because I felt bad that your beautiful little boys would not grow up knowing their dad because you were so overworked and would be even more-so if I were to quit. I did not realize then that the lack of general managers in your district was only due to your own egotistical,  self-absorbed, castigating style of managing. Yes, I realize that you know not what castigating means, because at one time, you asked me to use common and ordinary words that were easy to understand. I refuse to demean myself because you are too busy being Big Boss Man to read a fucking dictionary. You very recently stated that it was in the best interest of the restaurant and all the employees that I be demoted; to that I say, “It really wasn’t, because now you will see what the store truly runs like without one competent shift manager.” You will never, NEVER have a completely-staffed district, because you refuse to focus on what it truly takes to run a successful restaurant, but instead nit-pick at stupid shit that doesn’t matter. Perhaps if you begin treating your employees like people, instead of like the smushed Italian sausage that is on the bottom of your over-sized shoe, you will truly find success. Because you certainly don’t have it now, and you know it. Also, your wife is ugly.

This all being said, I release now my demons and will never again think of Pizza Hut in any way, even though the remaining employees who worked with me will think of me at least a little bit every single day.

Fuck you very much,

Sparkle

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Spreading the Sparkle


Ok, I realize that considering what you all know about me, this blog title sounds excessively dirty. However, I would just like to state that I’m not spreading what you think I’m spreading, so get your mind outta the gutter!

I have written extensively about the many joys that come with being a Pizza Slut. Not the least of them is the constant pressure to be happy and friendly, even when you are ready to stab someone in the head. A prime example is the following:

There is an old man that comes into my store on a regular basis. He is crotchety and cranky and all the other words used to describe a typical Grumpy Old Man. The first time I had the pleasure of waiting on him, he refused to make eye contact with me, barked his order at me, and dismissed me from his presence by ignoring the fact that I was standing in front of him. I left his table with a smile on my face and one thought in my head-” It shall be my one and greatest accomplishment and goal to make that man smile.”

Now why in the world would I not detest this crank with every fiber of my being because of his rude and unacceptable behavior? Why, when my coworkers see him and groan inwardly at the thought of taking his order, do I instead grin foolishly and skip out to his table to procure his mealtime wishes? I will tell you.

Having an excessively active imagination, I have composed a story about this man, and the reasonings for his depressive behaviors. I have told myself that he was once young, (and probably just as rude and cranky) and was married to a beautiful and lovely-personalitied woman who had enough patience to deal with him. Sadly, (in my head) his wife died at a reasonably-young age, and he has forever since been pining for her and been growing increasingly bitter with the world. And so, in his defense, I understand his demeanor, for I would be very sad also and probably much ruder to people if my beautiful wife had died and left me alone in a world full of fools.

In past visits this man has made to my store, I have ignored his surly demeanor and smiled happily whenever he has come to eat. When he looks firmly in my non-direction, I thank him for his business and ask him to come back and see me sometime. When he refuses to acknowledge my service, (or my presence) I smile and tell him to have a wondrous day. My efforts have not been in vain, because although his face has not once twisted in such a way that may be mistaken for a smile, he now looks into my eyes when ordering, thanks me for my service, and actually formed a complete sentence this week instead of grunting to ask for a cookie. Perhaps it was my perserverance as a Customer Maniac that did it, or the fact that I have excessively large chest fruit to admire, but he’s been back three times this week to see me. I may be so bold to hoarde his almost attentions, because yesterday someone else sat him and he was his grumpy old self. He only became less so when I hurried out to express my happiness at his visit. I’m telling you, one of these days, he’s gonna smile….

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Angels Unawares


I’m sorry, but I took a break from life yesterday and slept almost the entire day. This is what happens when you work as a Pizza Slut for 17 hours on a Saturday.

One of the distinct “joys” that come from being able to do your job well is that you end up doing everyone else’s jobs. This is how I ended up being the open to close manager on Saturday at work. Let me just say, I wish the muscle relaxant my driver had given me at 11 at night would have been offered a little bit closer to 2 AM; do you know how hard it is to finish up a seventeen hour day when your body is whispering loudly “Just sleep. Fuck all this and just go lie down. None of it matters. SLEEP.”

I cannot really complain about my long day, (too much.) I worked with all awesome people who adore working for me, (or so they say, I’m sure there’s at least one ass kisser in there somewhere) and everyone was great about helping everyone else out. The only hiccup in the day is when my day driver got rear-ended; having never dealt with an accident yet while managing, let me assure you- many calls were made to ensure proper steps were followed. I guess if I am the active boss for now, things should be done correctly, eh?

A little before 11 at night, I was silently pitying myself because of the endless amount of work I still had yet to do before going home. A woman and her three boys came in to order carryout, and I’m sure that I didn’t quite keep my look of irritation from my face. However, upon taking the woman’s order, I realized what a friendly and wonderful individual she was, and so my bad attitude quickly dispersed. After slipping her order in the oven, I went back to wiping all the dining room tables down. The woman stood near the door and tried to keep her younglings from running rampant.

Being the friendly customer-friendly person that I usually am not, I asked the woman where she was from and what she was doing. She stated that she was from South Dakote, and since my Rockstar is, too, a native of that state, our conversation flowed freely. I found out she had worked as a Pizza Slut for 9 years, (poor woman), and we discussed the ups and downs of having to do more than our fair share of work.

As I went from table to table, the woman was trying to keep her rambunctious childern occupied, so she told them to pick up all the large garbage that was littering the floor so that I didn’t have to do it before I vacuumed. My heart was warmed when a chubby little boy of 8 came over by the table I was wiping and boasted, “I’m 8, and I’m better at this than my brothers!” I wasn’t exactly sure how to respond without offending the mentioned siblings, so I just grinned at him and winked, and was rewarded with a dazzling cherubic smile.

As I boxed up the woman’s order, I was amazed and astounded to see her pick up a cloth from my sanitizer bucket and proceed to wiped down the remaining tables and chairs that needed it. Because I was so over-worked and exhausted, there was nothing right then that I would have appreciated more at that point. It was then I realized who this family truly was.

There is a story in the Bible of Abraham. In it, three travellers appear and Abraham and his wife Sarah are kind enough to offer them food and drink. Because of their kindness, one of the men tells the couple that they will become parents, and the up-to-that-point barren Sarah laughs with joy. It is then revealed that the three men are ,in fact, angels The story is later mentioned again in Hebrews, and we are reminded not to forget to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. While they were no doubt real people, I believe that woman and her three little cherubs were sent to remind me that not everyone who orders pizza is a complete asshole, and that there is still some good in the world.

So the next time you aren’t feeling customer-friendly, be so anyway, because you may come to find out you’re talking to one of those angels unawares. XOXO

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