What's up, ladies and gents?
So, today, I'll tell the story of quite possibly our most interesting customer yet. Well, perhaps customer is too nice a word, for she didn't really buy anything. She just kind of came in and made our nights.
So it was Wednesday night, second to last night of my week. I was dish boy, obviously, Joe was cook, Bobby and Sully were bartending and Cory was the buser. I don't believe we had any servers for that night; understandable, as it had been a slow week due to rain and last-minute summer vacations.
So it's early in the night, somewhere between 8:00 and 9:00, and then this woman walks in, smelling of B.O. and displaying signs of being completely nuts, displayed by her dialogue not making any sense and randomly breaking out into song halfway through it. She was a woman in...I want to say early-to-mid-thirties, maybe a little older than that. Not bad looking, really not, brownish-red hair, nice face. The fact that she seemed out of her mind, however, was a put off.
She went into the bathroom for a good fifteen minutes or so, during which time I assume she's washing herself in the sink, as she comes out sopping wet and looking even more deranged. She then begins to tell us her night's story. From what we all heard- both what I heard and what Sully heard- this is the summary:
-She was valedictorian for her class, however long ago that was.
-She is a stripper; not sure how that fits in with valedictorian, but maybe she just fell on some hard times.
-She has had three abortions (I can't account for this one, this is just what Sully said that he heard from her).
-She was going to perform brain surgery on herself...I really don't know what to say on this one. She kept looking at her leg when she said this, though, so maybe she was going to have surgery on her leg?
-She had just that very night tried to propose to a man that was already married.
During this time, she also rambled on about joining some circus or something, I didn't quite understand that part. Add in the fact that she still randomly started singing at weird moments, and I can't account for how much is real and how much is her mind going.
Thank God for Bobby being there. That guy knows how to keep a straight face when dealing with people. He also has a pretty good singing voice, so whenever she started singing, he would join along. So he dealt with her, while Corey and I listened on while trying to keep a straight face. I don't know how much success I'm having, and I'm pretty sure Corey wasn't faring any better.
So she finally goes to sit at the bar with a cup of water while the rest of us gather to talk. Joe and Corey have been videotaping the entire thing, not sure what happened with that footage. At one point they say they're gonna get me laid with her, but I just say the same thing I'd say to anyone: "I don't mess with crazy people."
The whole time we're talking, I can see out of the corner of my eye that she's staring at us, and I know right away that she knows we're talking about her. So while the others are making jokes and such, I'm fairly certain she knew it.
My assumption proved correct as everyone began to break off, and she approaced Bobby, Corey, and myself and said she knew we were talking about her and that she didn't have to stand for it, she was smarter than that. So she stormed off, the bouncer told us that she had driven off, and that was the last we heard of her.
Suffice to say, it was the highlight of our night.
Thinking back on it, I'm not sure if she was drunk or just crazy. Quite possibly a mixture of both, but it's hard to say. I don't know what became of her; hopefully nothing bad.
So that's that. I'm done working full weeks, school is starting back up so I will be returning to campus tomorrow and will be working weekends instead of weekdays. As for future blogs, whatever I can come up with, I'll post.
So, pea soup.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
A Couple Bar Stories For Your Troubles
What's up, ladies and gents?
So I have not updated in quite some time. Apologies for that. There's been quite a bit going on.
But I have a couple of stories in regards to my exploits within the kitchen of our bar. Both could have easily resulted in my untimely demise, but I may just be getting a bit ahead of myself.
So here's the first story:
I walk into work one Monday night, and my boss tells me to clean the fryolator. Which makes me cringe even as I sit here now typing it out, but I figured, "eh, I know what to do by now, no problem."
What my boss, unfortunately, had neglected to tell me was that the fryolator was still ON. You see, I believed that when he told me to clean it, that it meant it was already turned off and waiting for me. Such was not the case.
While pouring the grease from the second fryolator into the bucket, the liquid was so hot that it burned a rather large hole in its side. The result was fryolator grease spilling all over the floor, and seeping into my shoe, effectively burning the right side of my right foot. It was the BP oil disasters of grease in our kitchen, and probably the last thing you'd ever want when working in the kitchen.
And all of this happened within my first twenty minutes of being at work.
I timed it.
It took the better part of an hour and a half to mop up what I could of the oil, and then after that mess was done, I still had to clean out the fryolators. Needless to say, I did not have a good night that night, as my boss then let me go home early. Three weeks later, the floor is doing much better and is no longer slippery, though we still have mats placed down for walking.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, my foot is fine. I got some anti-burn spray on it, I'm looking at it right now, it's good as new, just about.
Now the second story, a little less hazardous but still terrifying for me:
The oven was not working for about a week, and my boss had taken off the bottom part of it- I'm guessing the grease pan or something, there was a lot of nasty crap on it- for me to clean. Really not a hassle, I get it looking brand new in a matter of minutes. So I dry it off, and take it over to the oven to put it back on.
The second it touched its spot, the sparks from the wires- because there are a group of wires in that spot, I'm assuming to power the machine- fly out at me in a very loud bang. The result of this was me dropping the piece I had and running out of the kitchen, patting myself for flames and asking Abby if I was on fire (to which she assures me that I am not).
We managed to put it back on with no problems, and while it continued to not work for the remainder of the week, I still stayed far away from it.
Oh, and I also somehow cut my finger on one of the mats while picking it up to run it through the dishwasher (because that's how we keep them cleaned). It wasn't a life-threatening cut, yet it would not stop bleeding for the longest time. This was the same night as story number 2, so I chalked it all off as my job trying to tell me something, washed my finger, cleaned it, bandaged it, and went about my day.
But that's a look at what goes on in our kitchen. I hope you enjoyed, and I'll try to update again soon.
Pea soup.
So I have not updated in quite some time. Apologies for that. There's been quite a bit going on.
But I have a couple of stories in regards to my exploits within the kitchen of our bar. Both could have easily resulted in my untimely demise, but I may just be getting a bit ahead of myself.
So here's the first story:
I walk into work one Monday night, and my boss tells me to clean the fryolator. Which makes me cringe even as I sit here now typing it out, but I figured, "eh, I know what to do by now, no problem."
What my boss, unfortunately, had neglected to tell me was that the fryolator was still ON. You see, I believed that when he told me to clean it, that it meant it was already turned off and waiting for me. Such was not the case.
While pouring the grease from the second fryolator into the bucket, the liquid was so hot that it burned a rather large hole in its side. The result was fryolator grease spilling all over the floor, and seeping into my shoe, effectively burning the right side of my right foot. It was the BP oil disasters of grease in our kitchen, and probably the last thing you'd ever want when working in the kitchen.
And all of this happened within my first twenty minutes of being at work.
I timed it.
It took the better part of an hour and a half to mop up what I could of the oil, and then after that mess was done, I still had to clean out the fryolators. Needless to say, I did not have a good night that night, as my boss then let me go home early. Three weeks later, the floor is doing much better and is no longer slippery, though we still have mats placed down for walking.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, my foot is fine. I got some anti-burn spray on it, I'm looking at it right now, it's good as new, just about.
Now the second story, a little less hazardous but still terrifying for me:
The oven was not working for about a week, and my boss had taken off the bottom part of it- I'm guessing the grease pan or something, there was a lot of nasty crap on it- for me to clean. Really not a hassle, I get it looking brand new in a matter of minutes. So I dry it off, and take it over to the oven to put it back on.
The second it touched its spot, the sparks from the wires- because there are a group of wires in that spot, I'm assuming to power the machine- fly out at me in a very loud bang. The result of this was me dropping the piece I had and running out of the kitchen, patting myself for flames and asking Abby if I was on fire (to which she assures me that I am not).
We managed to put it back on with no problems, and while it continued to not work for the remainder of the week, I still stayed far away from it.
Oh, and I also somehow cut my finger on one of the mats while picking it up to run it through the dishwasher (because that's how we keep them cleaned). It wasn't a life-threatening cut, yet it would not stop bleeding for the longest time. This was the same night as story number 2, so I chalked it all off as my job trying to tell me something, washed my finger, cleaned it, bandaged it, and went about my day.
But that's a look at what goes on in our kitchen. I hope you enjoyed, and I'll try to update again soon.
Pea soup.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
There Is A Demon In My Kitchen
In the cooking part of the kitchen, there is a demon so horrible that thinking about it now makes me shudder. It is a horrible, ingenious device that derives pleasure out of torturing its operators. It does good to customers and evil to kitchen staff, and it is unknown if it should be taken to a psychologist to analyze, or a priest to exorcise.
Okay, well, now that I've got all that out of the way:
The device I'm talking about is the fryolator. The fryolator is...well, I suppose I don't really need to explain it. Fries go in cold, come out fried and ready to eat. People don't really think about it too much; they just eat their fries, free of the thought. But has anyone ever wondered, for a moment, what it's like to have to CLEAN that thing?
Last night, I discovered this for myself.
It's basically a process of emptying out all the liquid from the machine, which is done by inserting a tube into an opening at the bottom of the device. You place a bucket down so that it's under the tube, so that all the liquid pours into it. You also have a catcher in the pot to catch all the little grease things and i guess "purify" the liquid, though it's greasy muck from a fryolator, so Lord knows how purified it really gets.
Now, that's not really the bad part, although that stuff WILL burn you to the umpteenth degree if you get it on you. The bad part is that you then have to take a slider and a scooper and pick out all the little crap grease pieces and dump them in the catcher.
Things to remember while doing this:
1.) The inside is still burning hot.
2.) The pieces are going to get stuck under the pipes, so use every utensil handed to you in order to get them out.
3.) The inside is STILL burning hot.
Now, in order to help yourself, you may have to pour that liquid BACK into the fryolator, just to move the pieces around. Just do what you did above when getting it back out, remove any pieces left, and clean and scrape along the edges.
When all that is done, you must now pour in NEW liquid, which can be found in box containers in the basement. And once you've done that, you can now be in business.
On paper it doesn't sound bad. In practice, it's a pain in the butt. Thankfully, it's a process that only needs to be done once every 1 or 2 weeks, so if they can just do it on the days I DON'T work, then we'll all be fine.
Apologies for the lack of proper identification in regards to tools used, but my mind is really spacey without the adderall and thus I'm not able to think as clearly.
But that's your look at what goes on in the kitchen for this week.
Okay, well, now that I've got all that out of the way:
The device I'm talking about is the fryolator. The fryolator is...well, I suppose I don't really need to explain it. Fries go in cold, come out fried and ready to eat. People don't really think about it too much; they just eat their fries, free of the thought. But has anyone ever wondered, for a moment, what it's like to have to CLEAN that thing?
Last night, I discovered this for myself.
It's basically a process of emptying out all the liquid from the machine, which is done by inserting a tube into an opening at the bottom of the device. You place a bucket down so that it's under the tube, so that all the liquid pours into it. You also have a catcher in the pot to catch all the little grease things and i guess "purify" the liquid, though it's greasy muck from a fryolator, so Lord knows how purified it really gets.
Now, that's not really the bad part, although that stuff WILL burn you to the umpteenth degree if you get it on you. The bad part is that you then have to take a slider and a scooper and pick out all the little crap grease pieces and dump them in the catcher.
Things to remember while doing this:
1.) The inside is still burning hot.
2.) The pieces are going to get stuck under the pipes, so use every utensil handed to you in order to get them out.
3.) The inside is STILL burning hot.
Now, in order to help yourself, you may have to pour that liquid BACK into the fryolator, just to move the pieces around. Just do what you did above when getting it back out, remove any pieces left, and clean and scrape along the edges.
When all that is done, you must now pour in NEW liquid, which can be found in box containers in the basement. And once you've done that, you can now be in business.
On paper it doesn't sound bad. In practice, it's a pain in the butt. Thankfully, it's a process that only needs to be done once every 1 or 2 weeks, so if they can just do it on the days I DON'T work, then we'll all be fine.
Apologies for the lack of proper identification in regards to tools used, but my mind is really spacey without the adderall and thus I'm not able to think as clearly.
But that's your look at what goes on in the kitchen for this week.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Regular Nights VS Game Nights
In three days, I've learned that there is a massive difference in work when comparing regular nights and nights where the Celtics are playing (no hype over the Sox yet, I guess that's just to come). It's funny how one thing can be the difference between being overwhelmed and being underwhelmed.
On regular nights, you don't get much traffic. Yes, the dishes come in, but they don't breed like rabbits, and if you got a system working, then you can handle them with ease. Other than that, there's really not much other than have a meal and flirt with the waitresses.
(On that note, why is it that every single one of them is either taken or not interested? It seems like even working in a bar of beautiful women, I cannot catch a break. Alas, but I digress).
The traffic you do get will be people who in time will become known as "regulars". Among these regulars- or I'm assuming he will be- is a man by the name of Paul Lastnamewithheld, a rather wealthy gentlemen who decides to literally buy the place out in terms of food. Seriously, I want to know at what point in your mind do you decide, "Hey, I'm kind of hungry, I think I'm going to go ahead and order EVERYTHING ON THE MENU"? Granted, it gave me work, but this is a relatively skinny man; where does he put it all?
On game nights, however, the place is packed. The seats are filled, every dish and utensil is used, and you have your hands full. By now, the system you have put into place pays off, and again, you manage to keep control. But the place is still packed, and it's all because of the Celtics. If they win, God help you. If they lose, God help you. The whole time, all I could think was, "If one of them gets a zombie bite, we are all screwed."
I wonder what will happen when the Sox start to play big games. Or when the Pats start up. Oh God, that'll be intense.
(I'm seeing steam in front of my face, and I'm nowhere near anything hot. I think working in the kitchen has become permanently burned into my retina.)
I've got a good system, and so far, it works. My thoughts are that there shouldn't be anything too overwhelming now that I'm on top of things. That's the goal, at least.
Although trash bags breaking when you've got nothing but water and muck in them, and there being holes at the bottom of the trash bin, really don't make matters easy.
But I am enjoying it still, I'm learning a lot, and it's a good experience. I definitely love days off, though, and I shall be returning to it...now.
On regular nights, you don't get much traffic. Yes, the dishes come in, but they don't breed like rabbits, and if you got a system working, then you can handle them with ease. Other than that, there's really not much other than have a meal and flirt with the waitresses.
(On that note, why is it that every single one of them is either taken or not interested? It seems like even working in a bar of beautiful women, I cannot catch a break. Alas, but I digress).
The traffic you do get will be people who in time will become known as "regulars". Among these regulars- or I'm assuming he will be- is a man by the name of Paul Lastnamewithheld, a rather wealthy gentlemen who decides to literally buy the place out in terms of food. Seriously, I want to know at what point in your mind do you decide, "Hey, I'm kind of hungry, I think I'm going to go ahead and order EVERYTHING ON THE MENU"? Granted, it gave me work, but this is a relatively skinny man; where does he put it all?
On game nights, however, the place is packed. The seats are filled, every dish and utensil is used, and you have your hands full. By now, the system you have put into place pays off, and again, you manage to keep control. But the place is still packed, and it's all because of the Celtics. If they win, God help you. If they lose, God help you. The whole time, all I could think was, "If one of them gets a zombie bite, we are all screwed."
I wonder what will happen when the Sox start to play big games. Or when the Pats start up. Oh God, that'll be intense.
(I'm seeing steam in front of my face, and I'm nowhere near anything hot. I think working in the kitchen has become permanently burned into my retina.)
I've got a good system, and so far, it works. My thoughts are that there shouldn't be anything too overwhelming now that I'm on top of things. That's the goal, at least.
Although trash bags breaking when you've got nothing but water and muck in them, and there being holes at the bottom of the trash bin, really don't make matters easy.
But I am enjoying it still, I'm learning a lot, and it's a good experience. I definitely love days off, though, and I shall be returning to it...now.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
10 Things I Learned On My First Night
So, I had my first night of work last night, going from 5:00 PM to 2:30 AM. Normally, my work schedule's going to go from 6:30 to 2:30, but since this was opening day, I had an extra hour and a half.
But within those nine and a half hours I learned quite a bit. Here are the Top 10 things an inexperienced dishwasher should learn right away:
10.) Washing dishes is not easy. There's a lot of work to it.
9.) Take something that will guarantee you stay awake through your whole shift, because you will be moving around a lot.
8.) Take your breaks when you can, and regulate food into your stomach whenever you can, becasue getting a chance to stop and eat is near impossible. Don't be afraid to ask the cooks to make you a hotdog or something; in this enviornment, it's all for one and one for all.
7.) The sink hose will hate you. No matter how softly you press on it, or how gently you talk to it, it will always send what you're trying to wash off flying over you and your work place.
6.) With that said, always try to keep your workplace clean. A clean workplace will make YOU personally feel a lot better and will make the job go by a little easier.
5.) Dishes are like bunnies. They are always multiplying.
4.) If you are an atheist, you will have even more of a reason to be, because no amount of praying will make the dishes stop coming.
3.) The grill pans are the worst things in the world to clean off. In that regard, make best friends with the steel sponges, because those things are lifesavers.
2.) The lesson, "if you touch something and it burns you, you know never to touch it again" has no application here. You will constantly be handling scalding-hot places, glasses, bowls, and silverware. And you will get burned. A lot. And, sadly, you will get used to it.
And the number one lesson you should learn right off the bat:
1.) You are the dish guy. You are about as low on the chain as you can possibly get. You will get pissed on, crapped on, sprayed, burned, kicked around, ordered around, and be expected to clean the Mount Everest of dishes by yourself with little to no sass. Your job is not necessarily to like it. Your job is to deal with it, and do the best you can.
With all that said, I really like this job so far, I work with some great people, and it looks like business will be terrific. Now that I know more or less what to expect, I can better prepare for it and start getting a real routine going.
So there we go. My tales of the bar will be laid out here. I'll update when I can, either weekly or daily, and try and keep this as safe for viewers of all ages as I possibly can. Let's see how this goes.
On to Round Two.
But within those nine and a half hours I learned quite a bit. Here are the Top 10 things an inexperienced dishwasher should learn right away:
10.) Washing dishes is not easy. There's a lot of work to it.
9.) Take something that will guarantee you stay awake through your whole shift, because you will be moving around a lot.
8.) Take your breaks when you can, and regulate food into your stomach whenever you can, becasue getting a chance to stop and eat is near impossible. Don't be afraid to ask the cooks to make you a hotdog or something; in this enviornment, it's all for one and one for all.
7.) The sink hose will hate you. No matter how softly you press on it, or how gently you talk to it, it will always send what you're trying to wash off flying over you and your work place.
6.) With that said, always try to keep your workplace clean. A clean workplace will make YOU personally feel a lot better and will make the job go by a little easier.
5.) Dishes are like bunnies. They are always multiplying.
4.) If you are an atheist, you will have even more of a reason to be, because no amount of praying will make the dishes stop coming.
3.) The grill pans are the worst things in the world to clean off. In that regard, make best friends with the steel sponges, because those things are lifesavers.
2.) The lesson, "if you touch something and it burns you, you know never to touch it again" has no application here. You will constantly be handling scalding-hot places, glasses, bowls, and silverware. And you will get burned. A lot. And, sadly, you will get used to it.
And the number one lesson you should learn right off the bat:
1.) You are the dish guy. You are about as low on the chain as you can possibly get. You will get pissed on, crapped on, sprayed, burned, kicked around, ordered around, and be expected to clean the Mount Everest of dishes by yourself with little to no sass. Your job is not necessarily to like it. Your job is to deal with it, and do the best you can.
With all that said, I really like this job so far, I work with some great people, and it looks like business will be terrific. Now that I know more or less what to expect, I can better prepare for it and start getting a real routine going.
So there we go. My tales of the bar will be laid out here. I'll update when I can, either weekly or daily, and try and keep this as safe for viewers of all ages as I possibly can. Let's see how this goes.
On to Round Two.
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