Big Man (ironically named--he weighs half again as much as I do and comes up to the middle of my ribcage) showed up at 1:00, Expo showed up at 4, and the other two runners--the killer AM girl and myself--showed up at 5. By 6:30, Chef was expediting, so we were terrifically overstaffed: Expo and I, or the other runner and I, or Expo and the other runner could handle it quite easily, and the three of us had smooth sailing. With Big Man, who generally seems frantic to get things done in half again as much time as anyone else, we had time to chat up tables, gossip in the back, run Pepsi for the kitchen, and not fall behind in running duties.
Expo asked a supervisor if we could send Big Man home--we were overstaffed and he came in first, so he'd be the first to go--which of course we could, and the supervisor sent Big Man off.
Big Man went to our boss because it wasn't fair that he was being sent home early--that supervisor is always mean and sending him home early. So our boss told him he could stay.
Skip ahead 45 minutes: Big Man starts whining about having to open tomorrow. He keeps it up for 15 minutes before coming into the kitchen (I was pulling a stack of plates to run to the kitchen, incidentally Big Man's primary sidework, but he was nowhere to be found) saying, "it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair!" and walking up to our supervisor with, "I have to open tomorrow and now our boss won't let me go home!"
He kept it up for fifteen or twenty minutes more before he was sent home.
Here's what kills me about this culture: Not only do those who know the least know it the loudest, those whose bitching is most belligerent get not the well-deserved bitchslap but whatever will stop their bellyaching.
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