Since the Starbucks baristas are on strike, and a few recent posts about child labor have been posted recently, I thought now was as good a time as any to share my experience working at Dunkin Donuts. From the ages of fourteen to eighteen I worked at a local Dunkin Donuts. This is fifteen years ago, I am not looking for support or help. The experience is long behind me. I am sharing this to highlight abuses and illegal behavior. The more employers we hold accountable the better conditions become for everyone.
I was hired at the New Hampshire minimum wage, $6.55 (circa 2007) and was told then when I finished training I would get a raise. National minimum wage increased to $7.25 shortly after. After a month I asked my manager when I would get a raise since I was done with training. She explained that the minimum wage increase is what she meant. The minimum wage increase had never been mentioned before. My first year there we were allowed to collect tips in a jar and split them evenly. There were times when I would come home with just under $50.00 in tips alone. Because of an issue with another store that owned the same franchise tips, it ended after my first year. We had to give the customer back any money they tried to give us. If they left before we could it was added to the register and went to the franchise owner.
It was routine for the nonsmokers to work six to seven hour shifts and not get a break until the last hour of our shift. I remember one day I did not get a break until the last half hour of my shift. Breaks were usually rushed, lasting about five minutes. Rarely they would be ten minutes. Smokers, which most of the supervisors were, would get multiple five to ten minute breaks. Employees were encouraged to pick up smoking, even if underage, if they wanted to smoke. Because the manager's office was the size of a broom closet, one on one meetings were held outside by the drive through. Supervisors would smoke right next to employees, even if they ask the managers not to smoke.
By state law I had to sign off that I understood what chemicals I was working with and what the dangers of using them were. A supervisor, let’s call him Jimmy, handed me a binder with the information and told me to sign. As I started reading he closed the binder and told me just to sign. I explained that I wanted to know about the chemicals, but he told me that I did not need to know and that nothing we work with is harmful. For those who do not know, the chemicals kitchens use to clean grease are incredibly toxic and can burn your skin.
Half a dozen times someone working the night shift would call out. The franchise owner would ask me, a morning opener, to stay late. This would result in me working a twelve to fourteen hour shift, minus an hourish unpaid lunch. As this happened before I was sixteen, this was illegal. I was convinced by the owner and Jimmy how cool this was, and that I was special because this deal isn’t offered to anyone. As a minor I was not allowed to work more than seven or eight hours a day. With my help, we would alter my my punch card making it look like I was working the legal amount of time. This also prevented me from getting overtime, as the hours would be moved to the next week.
Employees were routinely bullied by older employees, who often got promoted to supervisors, and by supervisors. One girl I worked with that was a grade below me was considered stupid by Jimmy. He justified keeping her employed because she could be a “cleaning bitch”. She would be given the grossest, dirtiest things to clean, some things did not even need to be cleaned, but she would be tasked with cleaning them. She would be on her knees and back for over an hour cleaning. She was not stupid or slow, she got Bs in school and had good communication skills. Another kid was made fun of by a future supervisor, current supervisor, and the manager, for wearing tighty whities. He would have been around fifteen with the other three people ranging in age from twenty five to over fifty.
A few times a supervisor would call my house at four and five in the morning to ask me simple questions that she could have figure out on her own, but she was hungover and could not manage on her own. She would always phrase the questions like I had screwed up and were at fault. Often these were incredibly minor problems. Another time she called my house complaining that I had not showed up to my shift. I explained that I was not scheduled. She admitted I was right and refused to apologize for calling so early.
At one point we had pizzas. They would take three minutes to cook in the ovens. While this was not a problem for people waiting inside, it was a huge issue for the drive through. All cars had to be through the drive though in one minute and twenty seconds. For a couple of coffees and donuts this was no issue even if there were a couple of cars waiting. Once the pizzas came out though, many people would start ordering them which drives up the wait time. One day when I was working at the drive through cash register the wait was over eight minutes. The manager started yelling at me, while she was working the ovens, about how long I was taking at the drive through in front of the whole store and customers. I explained to her that I was waiting on the pizzas, on her. Fortunately, the customer at the window was a well respected community leader who spoke up on my behalf. My manager was furious that I challenged her and she always gave me the worst jobs after that. I would leave after that summer to go to college and never return.