Panera Peeves

I'm a pretty easy going person. It takes a lot to get under my skin. So when a customer manages to irritate me, it feels strange and... wrong.

The primary thing that bothers me about customers (and people in general) is whinging* about things they're not willing to fix.

For example...

Panera Customer (PC): *glancing mournfully at their Chai* Oh. When you order a Chai Tea Latte, doesn't it automatically come hot?
Me: Yes. I know there were a lot of drinks in that order, but I asked hot or iced and I thought you said iced.
PC: Oh. I said iced? Maybe I thought you meant the mocha.
Me: Did you want it hot? I can make you a new one.
PC: No, it's fine. I never have it iced so I don't know if I'll like it.
Ashley: It's no problem, ma'am, we can make one hot.
Me: It only takes a minute...
PC: No. I'll just... try it.
Me: Let me know if you don't like it iced and I'll fix up a hot chai really quick.

So then her friends walk over to gather their iced drinks. One of which was a frozen caramel hazelnut mocha with whipped cream, which sounded amazing and I intend on trying next free drink I get on my card. :)

PC: I ordered a chai, but I guess she made it iced. I don't ever drink it iced.
Other PC: Oh. *uncaring, takes her amazing drink to the table*
Me: Are you sure you don't want me to make you a hot chai?
PC: No, no...

And then she continues to tell each of her friends that meet her at the barista how she never has iced chai and she thought she ordered it hot and it's just so strange and wrong to have it iced, but she won't let me fix her a new drink! And of course each time she repeats the story it's as if I'm incompetent and/or forcing her to drink her tea iced.

I understand trying new things can be scary. And she was part of a 6 drink order, so I can see where she might not have clearly understood when I looked directly at her and said, "Would you like that chai tea latte hot or iced?" and then repeated the entire order of drinks back to make sure we got everyone's down.
But then... she was trying to chat it up with her girlfriends while I verified the order. I know it's my fault for not repeating it a third time, stressing the hot part as if I were speaking in italics, and not making the confirmation more exciting and worth listening to. Maybe I should have sung it to the tune of "Rollin On the River."

It was my fault for interrupting their conversation about dental work and not knowing that "iced" actually means, "hot."

There's another thing that bugs me. Carrying on a conversation while you're ordering food. I understand you've come to Panera with your friends, business partners, and whatnot in order to talk, but I'm not the food equivalent of an ATM, nor do I have mind-reading powers. I don't at all mind having to wait for a lapse in your enthused conversation in order to confirm what's on my screen is what you really want to order. Especially if your conversations amuse me, or you include me in them as if... shocker! I'm an actual human being. The aggravating thing is when you don't find my questions worth paying attention to and then complain at me or management when you find out those questions were asked for a reason.

Add that to the propensity people have for blaming everyone else for their mistakes and you've got the most difficult customers to cater to.

Like credit card man.

Several months ago, an elderly man came up to my register in a huff. He practically charged at me like an offended rhinoceros in the middle of lunch rush and said, "You forgot to give me my credit card back."

I had never seen that man in my life and I did not ring him up. But I didn't say so. I asked him which register he was at so I could look for the card.

"I was at your register, but you weren't on that register, you were at that one," he said, pointing to 'Zula's. He was already irate, and I didn't want to complain about Azula (who had gone home by then) so I said, "Sir, I'm sorry, but that isn't my register and I don't use it."

"Well this was just about an hour ago. I paid you for my bagel and never got my card back. Where is it?"

"I wasn't out here an hour ago, sir, I was still in the back counting my drawer, so I'm not sure where it is. But I'll definitely look for it!"

One of our managers noticed him standing about and that I'm rummaging with a line out the door instead of ringing customers up and he asks the man if he's being helped.

"Well, she lost my credit card so she's just looking for it now."

Yes. I lost the credit card. Me. The person who was counting money when you bought your food and was never on another register and wishes people would stop confusing her for other cashiers when they're upset.

I looked up from my 'the-customers-can't-see-me-crouch' under the registers where the lost-and-found is and mouthed/whispered the words: I did not check him out!

Neither did McGyver find a credit card in the office, where we keep important things that get lost.

About a minute more of me searching desperately for a card I'm pretty sure he misplaced himself goes by (all this during a VERY busy hour) and he says for me to wait; he'll be back in a minute.

I ring a few people up before he comes back, not quite storming, but not in the least bit apologetic.

"I remembered you rolled it up in a receipt and that's why I didn't see it. It was in the receipt."

I told him I was glad he found it and to have a nice day. What I meant was, "I'm so sorry your mother never taught you to take responsibility for your own foolishness and that you insist on blaming people who are far more competent than you."

But I meant it politely. ;)

That brings to mind yet another peeve I have. When a person walks right up to the register without checking to be sure they're next in line. These are usually the same people who come in through the side door that says, "Please use other door" and use it to sneak to the front of the line. Then they walk up to the first--what they think is an available register, and start barking their orders without pause. This makes it very awkward on the cashier, especially when they're already ringing up an order. Sometimes a guest forgets their wallet and they run out to the car. Sometimes we're punching in a phone-in. Just because another person isn't standing directly in front of us doesn't mean the register isn't in use. I know that's confusing, but asking is nice. "Are you ready?" "Is your register open?" Those are examples of nice things to say.

Both Flipa and 'Zula don't like it when people count out their change and put it on the shelf, not your hand. Or when they toss their card on the counter when you're already reaching for it. This bugs me too, but it bugs me even more when they drape the money over the register before you've even rung anything up. Also, reciting the phone number for the Panera Card before anything else is said. How about instead of "Five-Three-Oh..." you start with, "I don't have my Panera Card with me, can I give you my number?" I'm not fast enough with memorizing your phone number. Let me get into the right screen, first!

These are just a few of the many peeves we have at our Panera. Perhaps next post will be filled to the brim with favourite customers and how we adore them. :)

Don't be Panera Peeves!

*Yes, that's a word. A British one, no less. I'm bilingual!

Wednesday is for Weeping

Today was horrible.

There was a definite bad mood being spread from customer to customer, and I don't know how they managed to infect each other with their rudeness, but they did. In a big way.

The day was all around not good--no one seemed to remember the words "please" or "thank you" nor did they want to treat the cashiers like human beings--but problems really got started with a woman I will dub as Souffle Lady. I could tell she was going to be a difficult one by the sour expression on her face that never went away. She arrived a little past 10:30; the cut off time for breakfast. A lot of people were disappointed today when we had to tell them that breakfast ends and the eggs and souffles are gone at 10:30. Understandable. You came to appease a tummy longing for breakfast and must now rethink your entire order. I know the pain of such a thing. However, this lady is not new to Panera. I've seen her in the morning hours before, and she knows breakfast ends at 10:30. First, she asked Azula for a souffle, even with the empty hot plate right in front of her. I guess she shouldn't be faulted for determination, but it is a bit irritating. Since it was only a minute or two past and we had just pulled souffles (they were still warm) Azula asked her which kind she wanted (she chose artichoke) and I rung it up while she plated it.

Time went by. More than five minutes, but less than an hour. The Souffle Lady came up to my register after she'd eaten the entire souffle and said, "I was going to tell the small one, but she's busy. She gave me the wrong souffle."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, knowing full well she got the Spinach/Artichoke one she asked for. "Which one did you order?"

"I asked for the artichoke, but she gave me the spinach."

It's so hard not to laugh in people's faces sometimes. "The spinach one is artichoke, dear. We have a spinach/artichoke and a spinach/bacon, so if it had spinach in it, it was one of those." But I knew it was the artichoke. I saw her put it on the plate.

"Well mine didn't have any artichoke in it. Like, through the whole thing there wasn't a single piece of artichoke."

I could have just left it, but the fact that she insulted first my coworker's competence and then our company's quality of food upset me. "Okaaay, our souffles are made with a special mix, so the artichoke is already mixed in with the spinach. Maybe the artichoke pieces were smaller than usual... sometimes there are big chunks, but not always."

Then, without any tone of apology or embarrassment (because of course, being the customer she can do no wrong) she huffs, "Well. I thought she gave me the wrong one."

Yeah, that must have been traumatizing. So traumatizing that you waited to eat the whole thing, sit for twenty minutes, and then come up to complain about it. In any case, I'm not sure what she expected to get by informing us. She knew the other souffles were expired and tossed out. Did she want Azula to get on her knees and beg pardon? Did she expect compensation for having to digest an entire delicious souffle that didn't seem like it was the right one? Or maybe a gift basket with some extra artichoke hearts to make up for her lack of them?

Souffle Lady was rude, but she was not the worst customer today by far.

Allow me to tell you a story about Smoothie Woman.

Azula did the ringing this time while I did my rounds of cleaning up the bakery. She called out, "Would you like to make a smoothie for me?" since she was in the process of bagging her pastries, and as per usual, I said, "I'd love to!" I glanced up at the person I'd be making a smoothie for and already she was glaring at me. I was confused, but undaunted. I happily tripped up to the barista station and went about fixing a Peach Nectar Smoothie. (Delcious!) A smoothie usually calls for a small scoop of ice, but I know the peach and a couple other flavors tend to come out more watery so I added a little extra ice for a thicker drink. I must say, it looked wonderful!

I was in the middle of washing my hands when Smoothie Woman grabbed her drink and shook it at me. "Is there a reason why this is so watery?"

Many answers ran through my mind. I honestly wasn't sure what to say at first. Her tone suggested that I'd done something weird to it, like added water to purposefully dilute her drink. Feeling a tad defensive that she would find my smoothie unsatisfactory after I tried extra hard to make it nice, I said with as much politeness as I could muster, "That is how the smoothies are."

I swear, I did not say it in a tone any less than polite. I didn't glare, roll my eyes, or sigh at her, all three of which I was dying to do. I simply answered her question the best I knew how. People are always mistaking a smoothie for a shake and complain about the thickness of said smoothies. A smoothie is made with fruit juice or puree, not ice cream. You ordered a smoothie made with low fat yogurt, so don't expect the same consistency as a Carl's Jr. die-happy-of-a-heart-attack ice cream milkshake, yeah? But this woman looked like she was in a hurry and I didn't know what exactly she was asking. I found her question worded quite poorly.

My mouth was literally open with the words, "I can make you a new one and try to get it thicker," right on the tip of my tongue when she slammed it back on the counter and said, "Never mind, then. I want a refund. Get me my money back."

"Okay," I said, and so very, very sick of today, went over to Little Dorrit to get her her refund. I was surprised that she hadn't asked for more details about what was in the smoothie, or how it's blended, or made any attempt to get a different drink, but I figured she was in a big hurry and would rather have her money back than take the time to get what she thought she ordered. I truly believed I was doing my best to appease her.

Silly me.

Little Dorrit is probably the sweetest person you'd ever meet. She apologized, not knowing what Smoothie Woman was unhappy about and asked her what was wrong.

"That smoothie is too watery."

"Oh, did you want us to make you another one with less ice in it?" (I think less ice would have made it worse, but there was no way in seven hells I was going to pipe in at that point. I could tell Dorrit when she remade it, not a minute sooner.)

"No," she spat. "What I wanted is for her to offer to make me another one, but she didn't, so I just want my money back."

I was in shock. I was having very unchristian thoughts that involved four letter words, smooshed into the phrase, "What the -bleep- lady!?" She had given me absolutely no chance to offer her anything. Between her ridiculously worded question and her demand for a refund, there was barely time for me to blink in confusion.

Little Dorrit was confused, too. People do not complain about me. I don't give them reason to. And this lady was acting like I'd spit in her food.

"Oh, I'm... sorry. She didn't offer...? That's... I'm sorry."

I was shaking with anger. All I could do is shake my head and bite my tongue as I felt my face grow warmer and warmer. I pretended to clean up some more and found a garbage to empty.

We needed a manager to clear the refund so Aurora came out to approve it. Being the disgustingly responsible person she is, Aurora also asked the customer how she was doing and what the problem was. The same bologna was repeated. "My smoothie is just too watery, and when I asked why, the girl said," (In a very bad imitation of me) "'That's just how a smoothie is,' and didn't offer to make me a new one."

I could tell by the look on her face that Aurora was surprised, too. It was her, "Nnno...that doesn't sound right," face. (And I love her for it. :)) But ever professional, she apologized and offered to make her a new one--as Dorrit had and I was about to before a refund was ordered. She refused, got her money back, and left.

After she'd gone, I explained the situation to Aurora and Dorrit. Aurora sifted the poor rejected smoothie out into the sink and said, "This smoothie is perfect, I don't know what her problem was."

I didn't either. But by her attitude, you'd think I'd enslaved her people and danced on her grave in a past life.

Bacon Lady wasn't much better.

She ordered two Smokehouse Turkey Paninis, one with the bacon extra crispy and the other with bacon on the side, also extra crispy.

It's a little known fact that we can't make our bacon extra crispy. We bake it once and keep it cold for the Bacon Turkey Bravos. Once it's grilled on the panini press inside the hot sandwich, that's the crispiest it's going to be. I wouldn't have bothered explaining the intricacies of our bacon cooking process to her, but she repeated the extra crispy part four times, and I did not want her calling in a complaint later and costing us money by guilting someone into giving her a free meal.

"Just to let you know, we can't cook the bacon anymore than it already is. I can have them grill the panini longer, but the bacon's already fully cooked. We just reheat it on the press when it's in the sandwich."

"Why can't you just cook the bacon more?"

"We make our vegetarian sandwiches on the same panini press as the others, and we can't let meat come in direct contact with the grill, or it would contami..."

She gave me a look like she thought I was an idiot and started talking over me before I'd finished. Obviously, other people's dietary restrictions and religious observances did not interest her. "Don't you have a microwave?"

That was a loaded question.

We have one, yes, but it absolutely cannot be used for anything but mac n' cheese and oatmeal. The bosses were VERY clear on that. I forget the exact reasons why, but they were important reasons, and I knew from this lady's behavior that trying to explain that to her would come across like I had all the resources to cook her bacon, I was just refusing to because I'm a horrible person.

So I pointed out the microwave we have out in the open for the guests' use. "We have one right under there for you, if you'd like me to put all the bacon on the side."

"No. I'm not going to deal with that. When it's just on the grill, the bacon comes out like it's raw. That's ridiculous. Isn't there a way I can get crispier bacon?"

What I wanted to say: Absolutely. Buy a pack of your own damn bacon and cook it at home, you lazy prat.
What I did say: Like I said before, I can have them grill the whole panini longer.

"No. It's very frustrating that I can't get crispier bacon. You need to have them fix that."

Sure. The economy is crap, our constitutional rights are being stripped, Cambodian children are starving, North Korea is testing rockets, the Syrians are engaged in internal conflict, but let me rush right away to "fix" the enormous problem of your not-so-crispy bacon.

Okay, so when you put it like that, none of us have the right to complain about any bad food service, ever. But really, people. Look at the big picture. You're coming into a casual dine-in restaurant hailed as the healthiest fast-food joint. You're obviously able to afford these nine dollar sandwiches, otherwise you wouldn't be coming in, so your lot in life can't be too rough. You're drinking clean water, being waited on with a smile, given a plethora of condiment and produce options, and yet none of this is good enough. You have to make a stink about a smoothie's thickness, a bacon's crispness, and the content of your souffle, without a thought for the work put into it or what it is you actually ordered.

Today I hate people because they've exhibited the very worst of our selfish, discourteous, and ungrateful society.

It wasn't until my shift was almost over that I figured out why everyone's a jerk today.

Taxes are due!!

I do love my job, but after today I can't wait to take a vacation.

Oh Yay, It's Audit Day

See what I did there? That title rhymed and everything.

'Zula says we don't even have to sign our names at the bottom of each post because it's pretty obvious by the content who wrote which one. :P So I'll leave it at that. Aaaand moving on.

Got to work early as I usually do because mum likes to get some breakfast and I like to hang around with the family for about 15-30 minutes before clocking on. Azula said we were having the audit guy come in. This explained the psychotic look in McGyver's eye, and his immediate interrogation over coffee times.

The entire day flew by in a frenzied rush; kind of like sharks when they smell blood. Only WE were the blood.

Usually when the audit guy comes around, I keep my head down, do my job, and escape the dreaded questions of doom. We always get asked, "What did you learn at the last Bread Bash?" and sometimes, "Why do you like working here?" but I hate the ones that have to do with times and numbers and things I'm not good with. Basically, I hate being asked questions I don't know the answer to.

Four 'o clock rolled around and I had still evaded the audit man. YES! But lo and behold, I saw him coming towards me during a stretch of slow time. I should have flagged down an old lady and asked if she wanted me to personally count out an exact number of pecans for her salad. But no. I was trapped between Scrooge el Grande (our boss) and the audit man.

I turned to him all smiles while my thoughts were jumbling up into nonsense. Like every time I get nervous, I felt like spouting some archaic sounding dialogue. "Good morrow, sir. How do you fare this fine day? Have you found everything in our cafe satisfactory?" Thankfully, I waited for him to start the interrogation.

First thing he asked--big surprise--was, "What did you do at the last Bread Bash?"

"We talked a lot about the importance of day dotting, and it was stressed how we should wash our hands after leaving each station.We learned about the new products... but we didn't get to sample them."

He turned a disapproving eye to Scrooge. "You didn't sample anything?" Scrooge explained that the trucks didn't bring us ingredients for the salad. "But what about the frozen drinks?" audit guy persisted.

I sort of felt like I was getting Scrooge in trouble at this point, but I couldn't lie. So I merely dug my hole in deeper. "Nooo... well, I mean, I know how to make them." I know now because during a lunch rush I read the directions in the little booklet. An average monkey could make those drinks. But I didn't say that. I'd rather be a paid monkey and not a fired monkey.

"Okay, well did you do anything fun at the Bread Bash?"

I froze. I honestly couldn't think of anything! I mean, we always have fun at the Bread Bashes, but I knew this guy wanted something specific. Something fun and educational. And it made me freak out because I couldn't for the life of me think of what it was that he wanted to hear.

"I made Pompeii with the candy on the table." Wow, Pixie. Fail. That was not at all what he was looking for. (I did build Pompeii with mini candies, by the way. It was pretty spectacular.)

At this point, Scrooge steps in (yet again) and explains about the prizes we all got for our bakery sales. Oh yeah! I got free stuff! Scrooge gave seventy bucks of his own money away! How could I forget? Because I'm an idiot, that's why.

"Could you describe to me as if....mumbles something incoherently..."

I had to lean in and ask him to repeat the question. He probably thought I was just stalling for time to think up an answer, but whatever.

"Could you describe one of our new products as if I'm a customer, please."

Seven hells. I hate all our new stuff so I haven't had them for lunch. And since we didn't get the samples, and I won't pay good money to eat them, I have no idea how to describe the strawberry salad or chicken orzo soup. I panic again. I'm screwed. I can't sell any of our new stuff. They're going to fire me because I suck as a salesperson.

My gaze traveled upward as my thoughts wandered. There, directly above the audit guy's head was a huge sign for our new frozen lemonade. I felt like Roland of A Knight's Tale when he's asked what his lord is wearing to banquet and he spies the tent behind Joselyn's maid. Green, trimmed in a sort of pale green, with wooden... toggles.

 

I nailed that sales pitch.  Disregarding the fact that we'd run out of our strawberry lemonade puree, I made that drink sound like it was mana from heaven. And I've never even had one. :P He nodded, looked surprised at my skills even, and said, "Wow, very good." Yes. My ability to see enormous signs is unsurpassed.

After reestablishing my awesomeness, I felt pretty good. The next question was an easy one too; about alarms and where they're located. Yes, I know where all the alarms are. I frequently daydream about getting trapped in the walk-in and needing to be rescued by an impossibly gorgeous and completely single fireman. So of course I know how to trip the alarms. I didn't say all that. Not completely.

The next question, however, was the one I'd been dreading. The one I couldn't answer.

"Where's the emergency meeting point in case of a fire?"

"Out...side. Outside the building." Yeah, I'm a genius.

Scrooge tried to help. "What's outside the building?"

"The parking lot."

"What's past the parking lot?"

"The... horizon." I was being facetious, but they could think I was stupid. I just wanted to get it over with. Tell me I'm wrong and let me get back to taking down the bread wall.

"It starts with an 'S'"

I was so close to saying, "the sunset" but I couldn't figure out if the windows faced east or west in time, so I just turned my brain on and said, "Oh, Sizzler's!"

"Yes, and we have two meeting points." What the crap, man!? Why two? That's all manner of confusing. Look, if Panera was on fire, I'd just follow the swarm of coughing, screaming people to wherever the heck they were going. I'm sure I'd figure it out eventually. And if I was a lone survivor, it wouldn't matter anyway.

"Uuuh...."

"What does Azula always say?"

"Azula says a lot of things."

"'Work first...'"

It's not 'screw later...' it's not 'screw later...' "Uhhh..."

"What's her hobby, other than work? What does she love to buy?"

"Makeup. So... Ulta?"

"'Work first, shoes later.' Where does she buy her shoes?"

I was going to say Steve Madden, but I knew he meant somewhere in the complex. "TJ Maxx?" 

"Yes."

Then there was a customer (Thank God!) and the audit man released me and didn't come back.

But you know what I think I proved? That I'm a model employee. I may not need to know where the emergency meeting point is, because if Panera goes up in a blaze, I'll be faithfully selling as many cold drinks as I can from my post at the register.

And that makes me the best salesperson EVER.

Also, I'm pretty sure everything he said about Azula was completely made up. I intend on asking her as soon as she signs onto Skype.

Farewell, Panera Poppies!

Sounds of Panera

The sounds of our bakery and cafe seem fairly straightforward. At the registers, there's the faint beeping of buttons, perhaps coffee or espresso trickling into the carafes and mugs, paper bags rustling, and the merry voices of cashiers asking about side choices and where you bought that cute shirt.

In the dining area, depending on the hour, there's a murmur or cacophony of chatter, dishes being stacked in the bins, and overhead elevator music gently soothes everyone into a sense of luxury and comfort.

But I think the music we play at Panera doesn't really show off the essence of who we are. I was really excited when on lunch break I heard a lute plucking out a happy little "Celtic bard song," but it still just didn't do it for me.

What songs do echo the soul of Panera?

Glad you asked. Here's a list (in no particular order) of the top 10 song that keep the joy of Panera in my heart.

 Paneeeeraaa's aliiiive... with the sooound of muuuusic!

• Marry Me - by Train - See Here
  This is the theme song for us and every good looking single man who walks into the cafe. ;)
• Good Mornin' - Singing in the Rain - See Here
  Everybody says "Good morning!" at our Panera. Even in the afternoon. Even at night. It is our way! Thus, this song is always appropriate.
• "Meat Pies" Song - Sweeney Todd - Listen Here
  So that's not its official name, but since the chorus isn't in the movie version, it seems silly to call it something else. And meat pies! How could you not think of Panera? :P
• Taylor the Latte Boy - Kristin Chenoweth - See Here
  Anytime I (Pixie) work the barista, this song gets in my head. It is also the adopted theme song of one of our managers. Plus, it's Azula approved!
• Friday - Rebecca Black - See Here
  My Friday is my Friday! Meaning, Friday is my last work day of the week! Fellow cashier cutie, Flipa, may hate us for getting this song in her head, and manager Taylor may ban it in preference to "Soft Kitty" from Big Bang, but Azula and I will always keep the spirit of Friday alive!! Don't tell me YOU never felt conflicted over which seat to take in a car your twelve year old friend was driving!
• Hello Dolly - Barbara Streisand - See Here
  I felt like this iconic song when I transferred back to my beloved location. For those of you who don't know, I worked for about two months at a sister store and every night I wanted to smother myself with a pillow. But now, every day I think in song, "do you hear the ice tinkle? Can you see the lights twinkle?" and I know I am back where I belong. :)
• Work Song - Les Miserables - See Here
  The wonderful thing about loving where you work is that you can make jokes about it with the most depressing songs. Well... I speak for myself only. ;) I love to sing this when people are silly enough to ask if/when they can get off the clock and go home. "Look down! Look down! You're here until you diiiie!"
• Be Our Guest - Beauty and the Beast - See Here
  We sing this to customers. And we mostly mean it. ;)
• Coffee in a Cardboard Cup - Something Pixie Found on YouTube - See Here
  It's probably from something, but who cares. It's so Panera at rush hour.
• Wannabe - Spice Girls - Listen Here
  For all those times when a person just can't figure out what they "really really wannna" order. You start singing this classic little ditty, and they'll make up their minds in no time at all!--if only to make you stop singing. ;P

I hope you enjoyed this musical journey!

~Pixie

And we have all been promoted as salesmen

Jim Halpert would be proud of the changes at Panera Bread. Or perhaps saddened that like him, we are underpaid for the excessively fine jobs we do. Our duties as cashier no longer consist of mere order taking and quality control/customer satisfaction. We are salespeople. Tried and true. We will make you do things with our winsome ways.

Our agenda is threefold:

1. To make you order a pastry or sweet with your meal and drink.

Oh! You bought an entree! Did you want a drink? Of course you want a drink. Buy a drink. You can't wash down your meal with water. Now that you have your meal and drink, would you like to tack on six hundred calories a bakery item for just ninety-nine cents? Just ninety-nine cents for an additional ten pounds to your hips!!*

2. To get you to take a Panera rewards card and for heaven's sake, register it!

Despite what common sense would tell you, we love to give you free stuff. (Seriously, free stuff means no math for meeee!) Why in the world would you not want a card that gives you free food and drinks with a simple swipe!? Living out of town is no excuse. If you register your card at our kiosk, you get a free item right away. To not do that is like throwing money in the garbage because you might not have the opportunity to get more free money again. Do you really need to win the lottery twice? Just take the card!! Why won't you accept our generosity!? *weeps*

3. To have you take our online survey and gush about how wonderful your day at Panera was.

You WILL have a wonderful day at Panera. Why not make the rest of our days wonderful and give us feedback? It's not that hard to jump online and write a few words of encouragement. Unless you have typist hands like me which are in agony from pressing buttons on a register all day and then blogging and novel writing the rest of the time... but I'd still take the survey! If I could. Which I can't. Since I work there. Just duuuu it! *bats eyes* Pretty pretty pleeaaase? :)

And now, here are some helpful tips at how to be a good salesperson.

The most important is to be cute. If you're cute--tiny frame, brown almond eyes, youthful features like me, you can force people to sign away their souls and they won't even blink. But if you're next door to an ogre in looks, there's still hope! There's still threats! You kidnap their closest loved one or pet and threaten to make them clean vents** at Panera if the buyer in question doesn't comply with your demands.

That's what Dwight would do.

~Pixie

*I don't know why I'm using the weight sarcasm. I almost eat the most calories of anyone in a day, besides Azula.

**I also don't know why this would be a threat, since I love cleaning the vents. :P

Top Accessories/Cosmetics you WILL need to survive Panera.

You may think all there is to Panera employees are their pastel collared shirts, granny button up pants, and hair pulled back in an awful pony tail, but some of them are more than just their uniquely out of style outfits. Not all of them, in fact mostly only one is a beauty obsessed queen. Hi, nice to meet you (not). Want to survive in Panera? Get a haircut, some lip gloss and lose 3 buttons on your collared shirt. 

1. I wasn't kidding about the haircut. 

Seriously, you are going to be wearing a hat for literally 8 hours a day. And, since I am assuming you are on the bottom of the totem pole your hat is going to be beige. Beige? Seriously, this color does not go well with anything except your first apartment's walls. So be warned, it will look awful on you. And the ONLY way to even try to pull off wearing a hat every single day of your life is to have a suitable haircut. Keep it short. Or if you have curly/wavy hair you're set and can have any length hair you'd like. It looks adorable poking out of a hat. Style, body, waves. Exactly what you need. Wait....I have curly hair. Why am I even trying to help you? My hair already looks adorable. 

2. Do yourself and buy a makeup primer.

If you do not wear makeup or know what a makeup primer is just leave now. Now. You're pathetic. Why a makeup primer? Well, let me tell you. You stand behind a hot as hell toaster ALL day, yes even in the summer. You have to get baked goods out of the oven constantly which the temperature ranges from anywhere between 300degrees to 480. Getting it yet? Your face will melt off! Literally. Makeup primers stop this problem before it even happens. Your face will look flawless and beautiful all day. (Not as good as mine though)

3. Lipstick and Nail Lacquer.

As odd as it sounds these two categories are for those lady customers in your life. I can't tell you how many times a woman has asked me what color nail polish and or lipstick color I am wearing. And, once you tell them most of the time they become your friend and begin to like you, which is not easy for a lot of the lady customers that come in to Panera, you see they are usually secretaries, or nurses, or even CNA's they obviously are much better than me and my dorky hat. So get women on your side at Panera and you've almost won the game. 

4. Lace Undershirts, Lip GLOSS, and Blush. 

Want to guess which gender we're going to discuss now? Lace Undershirts. Must I say more? I don't think so. They're appropriate, cute, and firemen love them. 

Lip Gloss. Now, I know we already went over lipstick, but you must understand they're in two completely different leagues. Lipstick adds color and brightens your face. Lip gloss is sexy and almost irresistible. Something about shiny lips always makes men smile at you a little longer. Men love to stare. And, let them stare at my lace undershirt and glossed lips, because maybe this one will fill out his survey at the bottom of his receipt. Tactics my drones, tactics. 

Blush. Blush is for old guys. You don't have to pretend to be amused by his dumb jokes and snide comments about your lace undershirt because you have your secret weapon. Blush. Blush makes you look like your always blushing (duh) which means you always look amused and cute when this old man is talking to you. It always adds another layer of adorableness as well when the cute firemen says you look very nice today. 

This lesson is over. You can either follow it or be ugly for the rest of your life. - Azula

Disclaimer: I do not speak for the Panera company as a whole, but am merely one of the gorgeous faces you will see and fall in love with at our bakery.

Ode To A Lost Jacket

You might work at Panera if... Lost and found items are to be worn as costumes during down time.

-x-

You may think that as a Panera cashier I'm just a cute face and two hand-fulls of fingers for button pushing. But no, I am also a poet.

Observe my handiwork, written in writer's panic on receipt paper after Moira deposited a poor lost jacket into the abandoned items drawer. As a certain llama with a hat would say, "I will not apologize for art."

Ode To A Lost Jacket

Oh little boy jacket,

From whence did you come?

A little boy left you to dine all alone.

The food has been eaten, 

And just drinks are left,

Is he out somewhere missing you, cold and bereft? 

Little boy, I hope you come back to us to get your jacket. 

~Pixie