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Winery woes

On Tuesday, I was asked at the winery if I would mind a schedule change.
"Could I," they asked," work Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday rather than Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday?"
"Sure," I said. "That's no problem."
"Great," they said. "That would help us out a lot." They said they'd let me know when the schedule change would take effect.
Today, just two days later, after extensive deliberations among the "managers" I was pulled aside and told that, due to the financial situation at the winery, all part timers would be restricted to two days per week. My days would be reduced to Tuesday and Thursday only.
Gee? I wonder why that is? Maybe because three days bumps an employee up to enough hours to qualify for health care coverage? Ironically, I am the only part timer who's been working that much, so I am the only one who loses that coverage. I've only had the coverage for one month so I guess it's no great loss. I've qualified for coverage since I started working there, but nobody in "management" bothered to tell me. I learned about the Hawaii state law mandating coverage after talking to my neighbor. It all makes me pine for a nice, big, corporate human resources department.
"We hope that's OK?" The manager shyly says and sort of asks at the same time, as though I actually have a choice, which of course, I don't.
At least now I have Saturdays off, which is when all the fun festivals and events seem to take place on the island. So now I can go.
Today at our staff meeting, we were reminded that we are entitled to a half hour lunch and two 15 minute breaks during our 8 hour shifts. We were encouraged to take them and to let others know when we're taking them. Yeah right. "There may be times when you don't get your full break and you are called back out into the tasting room. You'll just have to take the rest of your break later." Again, yeah right. Today, just on principle, I actually took an entire half hour for lunch. I think it's the third time since January that I've done that. My co-worker, however, didn't get so lucky. About half way through her mac and cheese, two vans pulled in. Breaks? Fuggetabout it. I feel lucky if I get to pee when I need to on any given day.
Don't get me wrong. Despite the hustle required for peanuts, I really enjoy working at the winery.
Still, I'm holding out hope for a writing gig. And then there's that crazy LSAT I keep practicing. I've ordered a few more study books with test taking tips I hope will help me to increase my score. My practice scores have not been impressive and have not been improving.
It's been pretty hot the past few days, though I hesitate to complain with what I've seen on the national news about heat waves and flooding and fires on the mainland.
On a lighter note, today, a cute, blond Aussie girl from Perth came into the winery sporting a t-shirt that read, "I had a nightmare that I was a brunette."
Also funny today was a cute-but-naughty little girl left unsupervised by her wine swilling parents. She looked to be about 4 or 5 years old. The place was packed, with people lined up at both bars and a line of would-be purchasers. I was womaning the cash register, just finishing up a string of transactions when I noticed her over near the coffee. We keep a pump pot of complimentary java for our patrons. The little girl had flipped open the pour spout on the sugar container. She was licking a stir stick, then dipping it into the sugar. Yummy! Pretty smart, really, but also disgusting. Our eyes met. Busted! "Don't dip that in there again," I said to her in a none-too-threatening way that still managed to get her to stop. I dumped the sugar and started with a fresh container full once she was on her merry way.
This little girl was actually quite sweet and very cute. She was quiet and well behaved other that clandestine sugar tasting operation of hers. Most of the kids who come in are pretty good. But there are kids who are unruly, running around the retail store, pulling the plastic grapes off the displays, trying to turn the antique wine press into a jungle gym. Their parents don't seem to notice them at all. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's why they feel compelled to act like barbarians. They're trying to get their idiot parents' attention. There are plenty of breakables in the store and screaming kids make it tough for adults at the wine bar to hear what we're saying about the wine. When did it become OK for children to be disruptive and run amuck in public places with no supervision? I don't get to do that. Why do they? I must be just an old fuddy duddy.
A hui hou. Aloha!

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