quote:(On second thought:)
Originally posted by Adjudicator
Rick F. could tell everyone a story or two here...
Oh, well: it "was in another country; and besides, the wench is dead." So here goes:
I once worked in a pizza joint in Memphis, one in a chain of, I think, sixty-some. Although it was
a chain, the food was quite good. We had to buy a lot of stuff from the home office, but we did all the cooking and prep and made the sauces, meatballs, and sausage on site and used top-drawer ingredients. Hardest work I’ve ever done, but I loved it. It was to have been a franchise operation, but the franchise hadn’t yet been sold. I eventually became assistant manager and, when the company-employed manager was fired, the chain put a very competent man in place as manager.
I was offered a position in quality control out of the home office; I went there to discuss it and got all kinds of red flags.
HQ was a desk in the corner of a hot, unsanitary warehouse with an excessive bug population. No rats that I saw: I think the roaches ate them. The head of QC was "Little Tony," the son of "Big Tony." Call it stereotyping if you will, but it bothered me a bit!
Their idea of entertaining a potential mid-level employee was taking me to a topless bar (very daring at that time!) where Little Tony knew the dancers and assured me that I could 'date' one if I wished. I didn't wish.
Then I went on a road trip with Little Tony. We went, I believe, to Atlanta, where Little Tony had a private interview with a waitress and made a couple of recommendations (basically, "Follow the rules, idiot!"); then we returned to Pensacola. And I returned home and to work as a cook at the place.
So far, so good: an entertaining week on somebody else’s tab. I stayed on and soon regained my exalted status as assistant manager. And then the other shoe dropped: I came in one day and the manager (whom I had hired in the first place) was bewildered. Big Tony had called him and announced that Jim was suddenly the owner of the franchise, with no fee to pay. The only change was that we had no more pre-printed order pads and pizza boxes, and the crusts were sometimes moldy. Nothing insurmountable.
And then I came in for work and was told that the Feds had closed the chain (a "misunderstanding over withholding taxes") and temporarily locked all the stores up.
A week later and without two weeks worth of pay I got a call telling me that the store was reopening as an independently owned place and I should come back. I did, but I never, never
inquired about my missing check and left as soon as I could find another job.
It may have been my youth and my impressionable imagination, but the whole chain of events, combined with the personalities of the owners, really spooked me!