I worked at Carls Jr. Fast Food Restaurant at age 16. My first day on the job, I loaded frozen burgers and chicken into a charbroiled for 8 hours. I got one 30-minute break for lunch and 2 15-minute breaks between. This was California State Law. I never thought 15 minutes could go so quickly. They put me on a register my second day. They must have suspected that I was good with money. They were right. I kept all my bills same side up and facing the same way. Those of you who work at a register know that you don’t often get them that way. And you don’t see many register tenants keeping them straight. Not even the bank tellers. Which I find rather odd. If you entire job were to keep track of money, you’d think you would want to be a bit more organized.
My register was always accurate to the penny. I didn’t make this a goal, it just happened this way. I wasn’t paying attention until the 10th time or so when the shift supervisor pointed it out to me. After that, I was more conscious of it and wanted to maintain that reputation. I would go to work with a few pennies in my pocket. Totals often come to be a few cents short of a round number, and it’s nice not to have to always make .98 cents change at the expense of two cents. It was my idea adjust the pricing to make more totals come out to the nearest quarter or dime. Chipotle would adopt my idea 20 years later.
One time I had a nice looking couple come to my register. A black man and white women, a mixed race couple was not nearly as common in the 80’s. The black man order 1 large vanilla shake, and the white woman order chocolate. Their order made cents.
The manager hired me without any discussion of the length of my hair. I guess they didn’t call my hairstyle a mullet back then. I didn’t realize it would ultimately be considered so silly, although my elders had to have known. My mullet seems so innocent compared to what the kids are doing these days. After a month or so on the job, that same manager started giving me grief about my mullet. He told me to cut it. One time he said, ‘If I can’t have my hair long, then you can’t either.” What a prick that guy was. Ricardo was his name. I was stuffing my hair into the baseball cap that was part of my Carl’s Jr. costume. A quick twist of my hair made it go away and it didn’t even look like it was there (to me). I had no plans on cutting my hair. I could get another (better) job easily and I soon would.
One of the girls that worked there soon became my girlfriend. She went to the same high school that I did. Her whole face lit up when we saw each other. Later I found out her whole face lit up when she say any male. It wasn’t long before everyone there knew we were together. It didn’t seem to bother anyone.
Unknown to me at the time, she may have been working the manager Ricardo a little bit. Not necessarily to get anything in particular, I think it was just her way. Once at the end of a shift, Ricardo counted out my register drawer. It was usually a shift supervisor, not the store manager. At one point, Ricardo asked me to step out and get a pencil or something. The orientation video specifically mentioned that employees must be present and paying attention while someone is counting out my drawer. My drawer was always accurate to the penny. And this guy wouldn’t the audacity swipe money out of my drawer….. Right? He’s the manager for crying out loud. Wrong, when he finished counting, my drawer was $3.26 short. The Carl’s Jr. Restaurant manual said that anything over $3 resulted in a ‘write up.’ Excuse my French, but was a cocksucker. He didn’t steal $20 from my drawer, he just grabbed enough to constitute a write up. I don’t know what he had against me. I was always on time, and my register was always on.
8 years later, I was bartending at the hottest nightclub in town. I was so lucky to have this position. Sure enough, one night I looked up and saw Ricardo. I ignored him for a while. I thought about how I should handle the situation. After passing him up several times at the non-stop chaotic bar, I finally stopped in front of him and look him dead in the eyes. Often I never said anything to a customer; it was so fast paced that just looking at someone meant, “what can I get for you.” I’d be surprised if he didn’t recognize me, but he played it cool and ordered 4 drinks for his group. I recall him ordering a gin and tonic for himself. I delivered his drinks and took his money. I never saw him again. Bar’s typically don’t keep pennies in the register. I gave him the correct change.
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