Germophobes Unite

I've got a favorite lunch spot.  It's a fairly big chain, and one of the few that offers fresh produce and non-deep fried alternatives.  I eat there a lot.  A lot.  The truth is, I'd eat there every day, if my coworkers didn't tease me about it so much.  As it is, the staff know me by sight, and they usually know what I'm going to order and how I want it before I open my mouth.

I went there again today, and was somewhat surprised to see that I didn't recognize most of the staff.  There was one guy, who normally works in the back without interacting with the clients (probably for good reason) and I'd never seen any of the others.  There must have been some sort of staff crunch, because it wasn't very long at all before it became very apparent that they were all trainees.

Service was really slow.  As I stood around waiting for my turn to order, a young child in a table behind me spilled his juice all over the table, the bench seat and the floor.  His mom went to ask for staff to help clean up.  A young trainee stopped to grab a mop from the washroom and promptly started to mop the floor. Then, she lifted up the mop and used it to wash the bench seat.  She used the mop that is used to wash the bathroom floors to wash a seat.    The seats where people wearing shorts sit with their bare legs.


I should have left then.  I was so grossed out that I just about forgot my Canadian upbringing and caused a scene.

How, in God's name, can anybody think that would be OK?  As it was, I was concentrating so hard on mentally repeating a mantra of  "I'm getting my lunch to go.  I'm getting my lunch to go.  I'm getting my lunch to go" that the trainee behind the counter had to ask me three times if I wanted cheese.

And seriously, if she does that while we're all watching, what's she going to do in the back food prep area?

I think I'm going to have to find a new place to get lunch.
Come to think of it, maybe I should accept that I'm a germophobic control freak and start packing my lunch every day.