The Stranger

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.

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.