JAN 7 — Everyone has a breaking point. There’s no two ways about it. No matter what line of work you are in, there will probably come a point when the stress gets to you and you snap. I reached mine about three months after I joined the restaurant in the hotel I was working in.
My manager at that time was a Bangladeshi chap who was the laziest person on the planet. Every department has one, a member of staff who can barely carry his or her own weight. Deadwood. Unfortunately mine was the actual manager of the department.
He would never follow the shifts that he was scheduled to do, swanning in at whatever time he wanted, and leaving when he felt like it. The thing that used to really piss everyone off was that upper management did not do a thing about it. Looking back now, I wonder if it was a form of positive discrimination. He was also the highest-paid middle manager on site.
Here’s the thing about any busy F&B outlet. One man down can really mess things up. Each staff member is allocated a section and a task. The smooth running of the operations depends on the right people being in the right places. Being one or two staff members down really throws a spanner in the works.
His idea of being a manager and mine differed vastly. He very, very seldom got his hands dirty, preferring to sit in the office and do his paperwork. There was only so much paperwork that needed to be done. I was left to deal with the guests and the staff, and I had to do the staff training as well. A manager who sits on his behind and concentrates on paperwork is, in my opinion, not worth a lot.
Shammy, as I will call my manager, decided to take two-week holiday. Which meant that I was on duty for two weeks straight, working 12 to 13 hour days. I breathed a sigh of relief on the Saturday morning that he was due to come back. It was a Saturday and I was in by 6.30am, making sure that we were all good to go for our 7am start for breakfast.
A call came in for me. I answered it and it was the receptionist calling to say that Shammy had rung in, and was going to be on medical leave for one week. I think I shut down at that point. I walked up to the reception desk and told the receptionist that I was going home. Now, walking out on your shift is a big no no. The least that would happen would be a suspension with no pay. And with that one action, I threw the hotel into chaos.
Someone had to be found to handle the crowd at the door. Our head concierge drew the short straw on that. Our head housekeeper was pulled in to manage the restaurant floor, and she did not have a clue as to what she was doing. To top it off, a couple of the restaurant part-timers did not show up for work, so some of the Polish girls who worked in housekeeping were pulled in to work the floor as well.
All in all, it was not a good day for the restaurant. They pulled through, just about, but at the slight detriment to operations of other departments.
What happened to me? I was not suspended, but there was an investigation that went on for about a week. The labour law in the UK is very good, and staff are very well protected. It was decided, after all the facts came to light, that I really could not be blamed for what I did. I was working more than eight hours a day, which was fine, but I was not having at least 10 hours off between shifts, which was against the law.
And what action was taken against Shammy? Absolutely nothing. In the UK, you can take as long as a week off medically without needing to produce a doctor's note. This is called self certification. Anything more than a week and you would need to prove the nature of your illness.
Last I heard, Shammy was driving a taxi. Go figure.
* The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the columnist.
