The boisterous philantropist.

I've always tried to make an effort to speak to every member of staff who is on shift with me, and if possible, find out a little something about them. My management mantra is always to treat others as I would like to be treated. As it's nice when the boss takes an interest, I make sure that this is exactly what I do (or at least pretend to do.)

I'm currently working on asking journalistic questions, those that will encourage the other person to speak a lot and divulge information. It develops my skills and improves relations with the staff, but the obvious downside is having to listen to a lot of bitching and moaning. Despite this, you are occasionally glad to have revealed some important information.

I was talking to a new guy on his second shift this week. He was just working four hours in the evening, so wasn't entitled to a break or any meal allowance (if you can call a burger a meal.)
Quite a shy chap he was, but happy to do whatever was asked of him and eager to please. We were already closed when I interrupted his mopping to do the aforementioned caring boss bit.

It was soon uncovered that the young man had only eaten two slices of bread the entire day, such were the state of his finances. Eighteen years old, a student living away from home, learning the hard way how not to handle his money.

"A pity the kitchen's closed or we'd get you a cheeky burger. You're no use to us with just two slices of bread inside you, come and see your favourite manager Tam next time, he'll sort you out."



I love to play the boisterous philantropist.

Later on, just before he left, I handed the poor lad a bag with some out of date salads and such. Hardly the noblest gesture in the history of mankind, but his face still gleamed brighter than the wife's did on Christmas Day.

When you can spread a little happiness without having to max out your credit card on pressies, it's a good day.