Well, I *was* employed . . .
Apr. 14th, 2003 02:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
omimouseI went into work this past Saturday at 8 in the morning for an 8-2 shift. As we are not allowed to leave our stations from 11-1, around 10:30, I started asking to be allowed to go on break.
And kept asking. During the lunch rush, 4 different people were permitted to go on break. I kept getting told to wait. It got to the point that I told someone that if I didn't go on break in the next 10 minutes, I was going to faint. Hypoglycemia is not something to play around with. At 10 'til 1, I told someone else (I honestly can't remember who; I can't even remember most of my shift at this point) that if I didn't get a break when lockdown ended, I was turning my uniform in on Monday.
At 1:30, I was still at the fry station, and trying very hard to not do a header into the 335 degree oil. My vision was seriously screwy, and my legs were trying very hard to go out from under me.
At 1:45, I was finally told that I could go home. I am given to understand by my family that I matched the white door by the time I got home, and that was after I'd had a hamburger. Granted, the fact that I'd grabbed a small cup of lemonade at 1 to stop myself from keeling over on the spot probably didn't help, but at that point, I needed the sugar to hit my system fast.
I quit my job today. I literally very nearly had to go to the hospital because I was not permitted to go on break. Like I said before, hypoglycemia is not something to play around with, and stuff like this (especially if they pulled this on an eight hour shift) has a good chance of killing me. Fainting over a very hot grill or oil is usually a bad idea, and blood sugar can only drop so low before it does very nasty stuff to a person.
They had no excuse. They were told about my hypoglycemia, and, in a work environment where freakin' everybody was red from the heat, I was obviously paper-white and shaking so bad that it was interfering with just about everything I was trying to do. I asked for a break repeatedly, explained *why* I needed a break, and, finally, told them what I would do if I did not get that break. I was ignored.
Next step: Labor board and regional McDonald's director.
And kept asking. During the lunch rush, 4 different people were permitted to go on break. I kept getting told to wait. It got to the point that I told someone that if I didn't go on break in the next 10 minutes, I was going to faint. Hypoglycemia is not something to play around with. At 10 'til 1, I told someone else (I honestly can't remember who; I can't even remember most of my shift at this point) that if I didn't get a break when lockdown ended, I was turning my uniform in on Monday.
At 1:30, I was still at the fry station, and trying very hard to not do a header into the 335 degree oil. My vision was seriously screwy, and my legs were trying very hard to go out from under me.
At 1:45, I was finally told that I could go home. I am given to understand by my family that I matched the white door by the time I got home, and that was after I'd had a hamburger. Granted, the fact that I'd grabbed a small cup of lemonade at 1 to stop myself from keeling over on the spot probably didn't help, but at that point, I needed the sugar to hit my system fast.
I quit my job today. I literally very nearly had to go to the hospital because I was not permitted to go on break. Like I said before, hypoglycemia is not something to play around with, and stuff like this (especially if they pulled this on an eight hour shift) has a good chance of killing me. Fainting over a very hot grill or oil is usually a bad idea, and blood sugar can only drop so low before it does very nasty stuff to a person.
They had no excuse. They were told about my hypoglycemia, and, in a work environment where freakin' everybody was red from the heat, I was obviously paper-white and shaking so bad that it was interfering with just about everything I was trying to do. I asked for a break repeatedly, explained *why* I needed a break, and, finally, told them what I would do if I did not get that break. I was ignored.
Next step: Labor board and regional McDonald's director.
