Ask for Permission
Arletta Jessica McDowell POV
Me: "Hello. This is Arletta. Can I talk to Mandy?"
If I am not mistaken, Mandy was the captain server at Granola Pasta and Pizza. We were not very close, because Mandy seemed to keep her distance from all the servers there. Many of her coworkers did not like her overbearing attitude. Aloya: "Mandy? Do you mean that Mandy is Veriza Mandy?"
Why did this girl have to say Mandy's family name first and then her first name? She was so weird! Was it happening because she was a new employee?
Me: "Aloya, the right one is Mandy Veriza. Please give this phone to her. Urgent."
I tried to remain patient. Why did this strange girl seem to be prolonging the conversation unnecessarily? How many Mandys worked at Granola that she had to mention her full name? If Mandy had known it, she might have been unhappy with Aloya.
Aloya: "Wait a minute please."
Soon, another voice was recognized as the waiting tone often used when calling the intended person. I rolled my eyes, annoyed with Aloya. I hoped Mandy would not make it difficult to get permission so I could find a reputable psychiatrist later.
"I have to tell my mom that today I am absent from class. I can't be absent for too long because it could affect my grades. I do not want to lose my full scholarship," I mumbled while thinking about what to do. Someone: "Hello?"
Hey! Why am I hearing a male voice and not a female? Mandy was a female, and we met several times and worked together. Was I dreaming, or was it the other way around? Me: "Excuse me. My name is Arletta. Can I speak with Mandy?"
I had to repeat the purpose of contacting the workplace. Who knows if the person answering the phone was someone else who did not know my problem, or maybe Mandy did not want to talk to me?
Someone: "I see. Letta, why do you want to talk to Mandy? What do you need?"
This man did not tell me his name, making me curious and confused. Would it be polite of me to ask who he was?
Me: "I would like to request permission to be absent from work, so I need to talk with Mandy. Is she there, sir?"
I spoke politely because who knew it was Mr. Jonathan Meier? Even if it was not him, I still had to be polite as usual.
Someone: "Why do you want to miss work? Has something happened to you?"
I was stunned to hear those two questions. Perhaps my guess that the man was Mr. Jonathan was correct. I did not want him to ask me so many questions that I would make it difficult for myself. Me: "I am sick and will go to the doctor, sir."
Did my voice sound convincing? I actually did not like doing this, but yesterday's incident messed everything up!
Someone: "Okay. How long have you been absent? So I can tell Mandy and change the schedule."
Hm... this man was indeed Mr. Jonathan! But what if he was someone else? He still would not reveal his name. Was now the right time to ask, but how?
Me: "About three days, sir."
Somehow my lips ended up saying three days, even though I was still confused about how long it would take to calm down.
Someone: "Three days? Okay. Get well soon, Letta. If you need an extra day off or anything else, do not be afraid to let us know."
Lost in the world of this story? Make sure you're on Ne5s.org to catch every twist and turn. The next chapter awaits, exclusively on our site. Dive in now!
If I thought about it, this firm but the formal tone of voice was something only managers have. I rarely met Mr. Jonathan because he was busy at the restaurant. The captain usually delivered the briefing unless there was a special event. I rarely receive calls from Mr. Jonathan, so I did not know his voice, but if I did not check, I would never know.
Me: "Thank you, Mr. Meier."
I was desperate to say the manager's name, and hopefully, the man was indeed Mr. Jonathan. There was no harm in trying, even though I was still unsure about the identity of the person who answered my phone. Someone: "You are welcome. Do not forget to include the doctor's statement."
Dheg! How did I get that letter, huh? I would have to cooperate with Mom at this rate, but was that the right solution? I did not think so.
Me: "Yes, sir. I will give the doctor statement after I go back to work."
I had no other choice. I had to ask Mom for help, because The Hidden Dragon group had facilities that could be used for the public, such as hotels, schools, and hospitals. Mom would want to know the details, and I hoped that all the plans would go smoothly without being suspected by my parents, let alone Mom. She could kill anyone who hurts her family, especially her children.
Someone: "Good. Get well soon and have a nice day."
The man I had been talking to did not object when I referred to him as Mr Meier, which meant he was the one. He would have denied it if it was not him and told me his real name. Me: "Thank you, sir."
Someone: "You are welcome. Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
Aha! This was a golden opportunity! I thought back to the restaurant's licensing, and while Mr. Meier was the one who opened the question, I realized that it was certainly not going to be wasted!
Lost in the world of this story? Make sure you're on Ñe5s.org to catch every twist and turn. The next chapter awaits, exclusively on our site. Dive in now!
Me: "Pardon, sir. If I want to ask for permission or maybe change shifts, should I go to Mandy, or can I go to Mr. Meier directly?"
I hoped Mr. Meier would answer because I did not want to be judged as jumping the fence, aka preferring to go to the boss, without regard to the hierarchy of positions.
Someone: "You should tell Mandy. She is the leader on the floor, so unless she is on vacation, you can tell me directly. After that, you keep her informed."
Great! I rarely ask for permission or swap shifts, so Mr. Meier's answer was reassuring.
Me: "Am I required to fill out a form, sir?"
I had almost forgotten about the forms or anything else related to administration. If I am not mistaken, Mandy or anyone else rarely talked about these things, so I was confused. Someone: "You can ask Mandy. She will give you the form according to your request."
Me: "Thank you for your explanation, sir."
One problem after another had been solved. Now, it was just a matter of figuring out how to talk to Mom to get some doctor's letters stating that I was indeed sick, which were addressed to the university, including to the professor and Mr. Meier, and of course, finding a credible psychiatrist.
Someone: "You are welcome, Letta. Anything else you would like to ask?"
Me: "Mr. Meier, I-"
***