I just...

quit my job.

There's a story in it, I promise.

and it all started with some cocktail sauce.

But for now, I will enjoy my self-given day off. :)

No call no show

means termination.
Well, apparently not to the senior citizens I work with and work for.
I guess when a nasty middle-aged man whom all these LOVELY ladies find attractive doesn't show up or call five days,
it only makes sense to keep him on the schedule
because it couldn't possibly be his fault.


pffft. loser.

We have been through 5 line cooks in less than 5 weeks.
The new cook: "too old to take downstairs". LOL.

I guess you won't get it,
but the super old waitress totally wants to do him.
I guess the 30 year age difference is standing in the way... I'm sorry, I mean 27 years!

Christmas time is here...

The one waitress and I organized secret santa for work.
This should go over.. interestingly. :)

today's dirty dish..

smelly, shitty baby on table.
Yeah, if you're going to have your druggie grandson's kid to watch for the day, maybe you want to change her in the back room.
There's nothing like a customer coming into the restaurant to view [and smell] this while he's waiting for a black gold.

yum!

I like to go into work with a hangover.
It's ridiculous, but I somehow find it easier
to ignore my boss rather than scream at her.
I find it easier to cook for annoying fucks
rather than consider re-enacting Waiting.
The best part is when she has no idea.

Bury me with a spatula
because I think I'm stuck
in the restaurant biz
forever.

sophistication.

If I could describe what my boss looks like, I'd say she is a combination of a character straight out of Whoville wearing a wardrobe similar to the members of Dexy's Midnight Runner in the video, "Come on Eileen". This is not a joke.

Yes, this is the boss I previously described as looking like a disgruntled Christmas tree. I wanted to spice it up a little.


Meanwhile, I AM getting a new job.
I almost (and might still) make it a full year at this job.
I'm like, two weeks away. forreal.
:)

fyi...

medium rare and medium well are completely different.
just in case you didn't catch it.

oh and also, just wanted to say to my boss: you're a bitch.

with love, line cook.

ps. After firing one of my best friends, maybe it's not best to say, "Oh, wow, I didn't think you'd show up" as soon as I walked through the door.

No appreciation.
I'm predicting someone's going to pull a "Waiting" on your food real soon.

and now for something completely different...

Me: Ugh the waitress ate all of my gumballs.
Boss: I wish someone would eat my balls.

weirdest. day. ever.

missing:

Obviously this is news worthy.

Two apple dumplings have gone missing at work!
The perfect prep cook couldn't have calculated incorrectly, of course.
(holy alliteration!!)

By the owner's brilliant deduction, it couldn't have been the following:

the waitresses-because they are too lazy to go downstairs and steal them.
the prep cook- she made them, so how could she have access? ( ha ha ha).
the old lady cook- too old to make the stairs.

so that leaves three cooks and a dishwasher, who never works.
so three cooks. and of course the kiss-ass didn't take them.

what would two kids want with shitty apple dumplings? blech.

so yeah, now my boss is saying there is surveillance downstairs.
if there was, i would have been fired this summer, for sure. ha.

What the hell

is a Country Fried Chicken Fried Steak? Haha. :)

I didn't know either, so when it came in as an order, I made it to the best of my ability.

What did you expect from a no star, one-step up from McDonald's establishment?
That's what I thought; good talk.

PS. This is my 100th post. It's a bit exciting.
So I will end this with love, and a couple pictures of this heart shaped tomato I found at work a little while back. =)

she's a weiner!

It's been awhile.

Recently, I have been so exausted from school, work, and extracurriculars, I failed to notice the hotdog buns were moldy and served a kiddie dog and fries with a seafoam green spotted bun.

Sorry, I hope you enjoyed the new dog I grilled up. :)

flip-flop.

Okay so the soups we serve daily at the restaurant are Vegetable Beef and Chili. We also have a soup of the day.

So the waitress walks up to the special board that reads as follows:

Chili
Tomato Soup
Beef Vegetable

and says, that's funny, I didn't see the Beef Vegetable.
I'm like, did you see the Vegetable Beef?
and she says, yeah, so?
And so I have to explain how Beef Vegetable and Vegetable Beef are the same thing.

:) Love it.

stinky and stupid.

I smell like I jumped in the fryer and took a swim.
Mmmmmm, french fries.

Meanwhile, I feel completely incompetent in comparison to the other cook.
In other words, I feel as dumb as a waitress.

There is nothing like

working with a new person.
especially when they have no experience what-so-ever.

Please do not ask me really stupid questions.

Some examples:
Which one is the cheeseburger?
Is this the pork chops or the chopped steak?

Also, I am not psychic. Your cryptic abbreviations for things are more complicated than Chinese.

post secret.

i love post secret.

Me an another cook got a raise today.
It's only 50 cents but it's the principle or something.

and I appreciate it.

Complain much?

I definitely complain a lot.

I don't think it's fair that I vomit in the bathroom, numerous times, and cannot leave work.
Meanwhile, a waitress gets off of work for about a week because she was sick.
That's not the part that's unfair.

What sucks to me is that she comes back and tells me to do all of her extra work because she can't let the boss know she is sick. If she does, she'll be sent home and will not make money.

Despite me being overly obnoxious and bitchy in the blogworld, I at times am a sucker for a sob story.
I just did all of her crap, but then the woman took all the tables.

hogggggggggggggggggggggggg!

think pink!

COOK 1: How do they want the steak done?
WAITRESS: Medium or medium rare.

ME: They want a hot pink center!
COOK 1: Don't we all?

Haha, totally stolen from Waiting, but just the fact that someone else can pick up on these references makes my day so much better.

There's a difference...

between a restaurant staff at a top notch establishment and the restaurant staff I work with.

I think we'd call it class, and I'll be the first to admit I do not have an ounce of it in my body.

If I don't like my food, and I tell the line cook, he will simply tell me to "rub it on my chest".

Yesterday I was working with an older waitress and the owner and we were talking about the pronunciation of swollen and the waitress says, "yes, it's swollen, like when a man is swollen". LOL.

I don't know, how about we just say we have a lot of character?

I might...

be quitting.
I'll write more later.

supersize me.

Okay, so there's a four top.
One man gets a burger and then an order of chili cheese fries.
The fries are 4 something.

The woman gets a BLT and a side of french fries.
The fries are 1.75.

Which plate should have more fries on it?
Obviously the one for 4 something, right?
Not in this lady's eyes.

The large woman pouts and says, "why does he have more fries than me?"
About two minutes later, she requests another order.

What are you, six years old?
That one order of fries was pushing it for you anyways.

I love:

the dishwashers and the line cooks.
They are seriously the coolest people I know.

I think I've said this before, or something similar.
They just make me laugh, to the point where my face physically hurts.

DW1: Those [sanitary containers] are fricking disgusting. There aren't even bags in them.
COOK: Yeah, poor [DW2] has to clean it out with his bare hands!
DW2: (to DW1 and me) I didn't know what those containers were. I just thought they sat there.

HAHAHA. :)

dumbest. rule. ever.

Okay, out of all the 2700 awful rules, the "three strikes rule" takes the cake.

The rule states, that if you break any of the rules you will receive a pink slip.
Two of those lands you in deep trouble and a third results in termination.

Of course, I almost got one for speaking out against the pink slips.
I mean, come on, I haven't gotten a "disciplinary referral" since high school.

what the fuck.

I couldn't tell you..

how many rules I broke today.
Definitely over five; just in time for tomorrow's meeting.
I'll let you know how that goes, my friend.

I have to say though, today was somewhat awful.
I spilled the baked beans in the steam table and had to empty it, clean it and re-fill it.
I also burnt my hand in the fryer, only to see the other cook do it when he was cleaning. ha.

pi does not mean..

you should eat 3.14159265 pieces of pie.

The owner says to anyone who is listening, "Wow the shoofly sold so quickly. I'll have the prep cook make another tomorrow."
ME: "Well, since you ate about 3 pieces and your husband ate a few, it looks like you sold two slices. I'd say you lost about 3 bucks on the pie. Not bad."

She wasn't pleased.

CLOSED.

Between 1pm and precisely 5:10 pm I had two tables of two come into the restaurant.
The owner decided we should close early.
By 6:30 things had slightly picked up, with me getting about 5 tables.
I made all of the food and 7pm I took everything downstairs.
Another table came in and I cooked their stuff and sent it out.
Unfortunately, I cooked it rather well because they stood at the register and talked to the owner about it.
She said when they left, she'd lot the doors.

Okay, so it's 7:45 and I have everything CLEANED AND TORE DOWN AND PUT AWAY AND TURNED OFF.
All I have to do is punch out.

Then the fricken door swings open. It's the bitchy owner from the campground next door. I think "oh well, she usually just gets soup" because she knows we close early sometimes. In fact, she too closes her campground early quite often, so she should understand.
Nope, she doesn't give a damn because in comes six of her relatives.

Not only is my one fryer broken and everything turned off, but everything they order is fryer/grill.
With this being said, it takes twice as long.
Then, two more people come in to eat with them. Of course it's two chicken tender baskets. I have no room.

I said to the waitress to ask if they want anymore food because if not, I'm out.
So they sit and sit and sit. No they don't want anymore food.
So I clock out and I go to get my things and I hear bitchy camplady herself, "does anyone want anymore chicken fingers?"

I told the owner. I'm done, you make her damn food.
And I left.

People are so irritating.

I know this blog has been, umm, dying, but so has my patience for my stupid boss.

There are quite a few reasons for this.

1. We will be having a themed weekened in a few months in which all employees are required to wear overalls.
a. I hate overalls.
b. I do not own them.
c. I do not wish to buy them.
d. By the amount of desserts she eats, hers will most likely not fit her by then.

2. She lies, lies, lies.
a. It's about stupid stuff.
b. It's constantly.
c. She thinks she is always right.
d. When I call her an f*in liar, I get in trouble. Whatevs.

3. She doesn't know what she is doing.
a. She asks the cooks to practically run the restaurant.
b. If something goes wrong it is our fault.
c. She can barly do the register without an instruction sheet.
d. She doesn't even like to answer the phoneeee.

There is so much more,
but I have to get ready to work in Hell.

I'm sure my aggravation spawns from the fact I've been working almost every day straight.

So I got a phone call

from one of my co-workers.
He told me we will be having an employee meeting.

What are some of the points being discussed?
Well, the few he told me definitely took some major brain power.

1. Do not talk back to me.
2. Do not ask other people to do your job.
3. have RESPECT.

There are others; he says I have to check out the list, but he also says we are getting paid.

I don't mind listening to rule #23- Stir the soup before you serve it (duh!) if I'm getting paid to sit there. HA HA.

Silent kitchen!

There are restaurants out there in which kitchen staff is only allowed to verbally speak when discussing matters of the restaurant.

Well, apparently in our zero star establishment, I am not to associate with the dishwashers.
What happens when I do?

My boss says to the dishwasher.
"Your shift is over, and since you and Noelle were talking so much and you didn't have time to finish, she would be happy to do all of your dishes."

I was also happy to put just about everything in the wrong spot on purpose.
=)

gum?

Okay, just something about me, I loveeeeee bubble gum so much.
Anyways, my one boss gave me a bucket of gumballs. I then proceeded to knock over said bucket of gumballs.
I only wish it was as exciting as 1:30 to 2 minutes of this video.

did i lose money today?

Nothing says annoying like driving 20 miles to your job at 1pm and finding out at 3pm, the owner wants to close.

Thus, I drove in total 40 miles to work for not even 3 hours.
That means I might have made between 5 and 7 bucks today... if I'm lucky.

asshole.

let freedom fall.

Why is it that I not only have to work EVERY holiday, but I have to work holidays called
Independence Day and Labor Day.

How screwed up is that?

I got stitches from a rugby injury.
My boss is now making me wear these damn band-aids over my eye until the stitches dissolve.

They aren't even cool neon bandaids or nothing.
Whatever.

jobs.

I always push the buttons of the people in control of my job too far.
Anyways, the restaurant I previously was fired from is falling apart.. just a bit.

How so? New owners have taken over and are slowly getting rid of the people running the restaurant. My evil side smiles at the thought of the whole thing falling apart two months after I got fired.

I talked to a cook I worked with.
She said: "It's awful here. we need cooks. I called off on Sunday and they closed because they didn't have anyone". HAAHHAHAA.

Whatever.

In other news, I have been pulling some major "Waiting" stuff at work. lol.

nothing.

I always care more for the people I work with than some of my family.
This is why I stay at a crappy job for 7.50 an hour, and when they quit, it hurts.

I just want to write what I'm feeling, but even opinionated me is sometimes afraid to tell it how it is.
to tell you, and I guess, admit to myself.

is it prostitution...

if a person has sex at work?

this is my question for today.
or is it just a different form of a break?
such as a smoke break, or a break for fresh air.

because they are getting paid, it's just not from the person he has sex with.

work

can be so unromantic.

On a serious note..

I wanted to just take the time to dedicate an entry to one of our usuals.
In the past, I think I've explained the definition of a "usual" or frequent customer.

Typically, it's a person whom you're previously unaquainted with but through he or she coming into the restaurant, you form some kind of friendship, if you will.
Well, I've come across my fair share, and they always stick with me.

At the restaurant I'm at now, there was a man who came in just about every day, so I saw him and spoke with him more than my own father. I knew his life story, and he listened to me complain always telling me I don't know what life was like back when he was my age. It always bothered me, because I felt like he didn't understand my life or how it is today for teenagers.

Well, about a week ago, he told me about how sometimes life gives you a bad hand, but you keep going. I jokingly told him I was ready to retire and just relax and he told me I have my whole life ahead of me. I wish I could say the same for him.

When I got to work today, I had found out that he had been in a car crash and didn't make it. His wife called the restaurant to give us the news.
Sometimes, we argued, other times, things were great. It's just further evidence at how usuals somehow turn into family.

So, Mike, this one's for you. I just wish you were around to yell at me for moving the fly traps or for not keeping my trap shut.
rest in peace.

Some days..

I feel like sticking my face on the grill.

where you at?

Where the hell are all of the customers?
It's so dead, I have become the cook & dishwasher of night shift.
Unfortunately it is one flat rate, not both combined.

Get your butts in the car, and go out to eat cheapskates!

dirty dishes.

I kept saying how I wanted to talk about the movie WAITING, and I'm finally going to do so.

For those of you who haven't seen the movie, 1. there's already a sequel so what the hell are you waiting for? and 2. leave the computer immediately rent it and watch.

To start of, the tagline for the movie is: What happens in the kitchen ends up on the plate.
so you can kind of assume what goes down.

Anyways, the movie follows the happenings of employees in a retaurant (waitresses, manager, cooks, dishwashers, bussers).
Honestly, the movie was, very accurate as disturbing as it sounds.

I decided to give you the truths about the staff in some restaurants...

Do the employees actually smoke pot at work?
Yes. My first restaurant job the common place was the freezer, and at my second job, people have done it in the parking lot. I've also seen co-workers come in high and with hangovers. The majority is always the "back of the house" or the cooks and dishwashers.

Do the restaurant employees actually have the audacity to be sexually involved together at work?
Why, yes they do. Like the movie, people do tend to become involved with each other immensely. Whether it's the long hours leading up to workers lacking lives outside of being with their co-workers or it's just built up tension, I don't know, but this does happen.

Was my steak dropped on the floor?
It just might have been. I have seen people drop food and then serve it; most times they've cleaned it first or dropped it in the fryer to kill the "germs". I hope it is, but I'm sure the messing around with the food in the movie is not exaggerated. If a cook hates you, and really doesn't care, he might just stick your garlic bread down his pants. This I have never seen, but hey, it happens I'm sure.

Do young kids working in restaurants really party like this?
What young adults don't party? but yeah, I've been through some crazy shit working in the restaurant, and not to be whatever, but I think cooks are the coolest people to party with. :)

There's more I want to talk about but I don't want to make this too long, so I'll leave you hanging for a bit.

"you are..

going to help me, right?"

This is what the owner said when the manager quit.
My thoughts: sure, perhaps if I was being paid more than 7.50 an hour.

Get a clue.

ps. did I mention you can eat tomatoes again? Well, the ones from Georgia and Florida anyways.

quitter.

So recent events and my 5 signs your manager is quitting post inspire this one.

5 signs your manager is screwing you over:

1. She "gets hurt at work" but doesn't get worker's compensation or go to the doctor until four months later.
2. She takes free food for her and her husband (who no longer works there) and uses the take out number to put in orders (so she doesn't have to pay taxes).
3. She cuts her hours to the point that she takes a whole week off.
4. She stops doing her job (includes calling people off/into work, scheduling, coming into work to relieve the owner, et cetera) and refuses to hold a meeting.
5. She comes into work for the last of her things and tells the owner, she is done until further notice.

So after she left and the manager told me she said that, all I had to say was, duh.
It wasn't appreciated.

I'm a..

damn good waitress.
'nuff said.

Anyways, there is a recall on tomatoes in the area.
Most likely our tomatoes are fine, but just to be safe, we will not be serving them.

One woman wanted a wrap and another a salad.
I told them of this recall and they were very nice about it.

I told another woman at a two top who ordered a BLT, and she said...
"Excuse me?"
and I apologized and she's like.
"ugh, i guess i'll have to order something else. The tomato is the best part."
I kind of just let it go because I was a little irritated.
Then she said. "I guess I'll just have the grilled chicken sandwich- plain. I would get tomato on it, but that's just too much to ask. Why would I get a BLT without the T..."
That's why I asked you, duh!

but, of course, I didn't say that. I just simply said.
"It's a safety precaution, and it's all over this area. I could give you a tomato, but it could make you really sick. It'd be like not cooking your chicken and you eating it raw."

I'm just tired of stupidity, and I guess my nice tone was enough, because I didn't get stiffed once tonight.

More customer stories to come!

So work just called..

and I am going to be a waitress tonight.
I promise, I will live up to the food-spilling on customers, asking dumb questions to the cooks legacy. Okay, maybe I won't, but if we get some business there's some good stories in the near future, my friend.

I don't always have a joke..

but yesterday's special was souris sur le sommet de sauce collant.
It sounds delish, right?

Eww, I just said delish, but translate that and it becomes:
mice on top of sticky sauce.
Why do I say that?

Because underneath the dumbwaiter (which is a small elevator. oh and of course, what every waitress is at my job..a dumb waiter. HAHA..) I found two dead mice on that sticky, goopy paper. I guess the trap worked, but how gross that there are mice there. :)

immature?

What a relief it is to get out of the damn weeds!
But what happens in downtime?

Well, after all of the stress is gone and the mess is cleaned up we help the dishwasher. but after that?

We tend to act like eight year olds on a summer day.
COOK 1 takes a water bottle and squirts water at me. When I finally get ahold of the bottle, and squirt at him he fills a bin with water.
COOK 1: "I'll dump it"
ME: You will not!
COOK 1 proceeds to dump it on me. I get him back and he gets the dish hose and squirts it at me.

Dishwasher mops the floor, and we of course get in trouble.
Why? Because he "made me wet" as the manager joked, but the owner was less than thrilled.
We're not supposed to work together and we must leave after our shifts so we don't "hang out".

At least I'm not going downstairs with the kid!
Oh, and I have this picture of a ROUND EGG. It's like a turtle egg. I'll talk about this later, my friend, oh and that movie of course.

Meanwhile, go watch it. It's called WAITING.
Oh, and I also want to talk about Hell's Kitchen which I was watching today!

..in the weeds.

When the cooks or waitresses get slammed, we typically call it "being in the weeds" or "in the hole". Well, this was yesterday.

We had a group of 35 on Sunday at 12, plus the 12 other checks.
This led to the two lonely cooks being in the hole.
The truth is a line of tickets gives me a rush equivalent to a line of cocaine for a cokehead.

Anyways, waitresses are usually really bitchy when they get busy because they realize how imcompetent and useless they are.
So how do they make their already easy job less difficult?
They take all of the food orders at one time and then bring up all of their checks at once.

Every waitress I work with does that, and I don't appreciate it, for many reasons. I'll explain this in my next blog.

So idiot #1 brings me a total of 17 checks at once.
We had 18 california burgers on the grill.
Imagine making the set-ups: 4 without onion, six without mayo, 14 with fries, one gets a side of O-rings, et cetera.

My favorite part is when idiot #2 takes idiot #1's food and she has a conniption.
So because she keeps asking for the same burger, we end up with three extra.

Meanwhile you have the cashier and the two owners helping the waitresses and of course yelling through the window to put up their food.

Okay, here's the problem. When you have 14 orders of fries it fills two baskets. Two baskets fill one fryer and the other fryer is fricken broken. So I can't make anything else until then.
The grill is shitty; the middle doesn't work and I have one microwave.

Well, we have three others but if we plug more than one in, it will blow a fuse.
Haha, so overall it's quite a big of aggravation.

We tend to have a calm AFTER the storm [of people].
I'll tell you about that next time.

but I'll leave you with how the cooks talk to the waitresses...
WAITRESS ONE: Hey, where is my burger?
COOK 1: You already took it!
WAITRESS ONE:Well, it aint here.
COOK 1: Tough shit, wait your turn.

and...
WAITRESS: Someone must be messing up back there.
ME: Don't put up 17 checks at once if you can't handle getting them all at once.
WAITRESS: This is ridiculous (says to owner)
ME: You need to calm the f*ck down and get away from the window now.

i'm lame,

but we were super busy today, so i won't be posting until tomorrow night/ or tuesday.

some things i'll be writing about in the next couple days:
-work on sunday-including getting in the weeds/in the hole
-the movie waiting (watched it yesterday)
-mice. haha this is slightly disturbing.
-boredom at work.

and yeah, i should post something today, but i'm too tired and i don't want my post to suck out loud. :)

I love..

the back of the house.
This includes the kitchen staff and dishwashers.
Well, I like the young back of the house.

Anyways, this is today.
COOK: Is this fish even done? Only part of it is floating.
I walk over and look at it.
Meanwhile, the dishwasher just walks through the door.
I say, "yeah, when the white stuff comes out, it is done".
The dishwasher says, "yeah, that's usually how it works."

I love, love, love it. Haha.

gross.

I love how crude cooks can be.
I went into work for my paycheck on Wednesday.
I was wearing a skirt, and not a skanky one either.

It was a pretty cute plaid one and it had a bow..and that's not the point.
Today, I go into work and the cook is standing there and he's talking to me for awhile before he calls me over to the fryers and says,
"Hey, next time you come in wearing a skirt, you shouldn't wear underwear and we could have a quickie downstairs."

How romantic, and then before I leave,
"Hey rememeber what I said."

Haha, yeah I remembered, and I hope your girlfriend reads this. :)

5 Signs your manager is quitting on you:

1. She schedules herself less and less hours (despite being on salary).
2. She doesn't do her extra work, because she doesn't care.
3. She takes her husband off the schedule completely.
4. She calls off of work when there is no one else to fill her spot.
5. She takes all of her stuff home.

duh.

FAQ's

I don't know how many more of these I have, but these are just questions I've been asked...

Q1: I like my co-worker; do I go for it or just keep it a secret?
A1: Well, does your co-worker like you? If not, save yourself the embarrassment and awkwardness.
I'm the type that says just go for it, even when they aren't TECHNICALLY available. Haha.
Don't make a fool of yourself, because you have to work with this person the next day. Oh and the one person he told, and the one person you told just told everyone else and now the rumors are beyond fixing.

Good luck!

So..

I got a new job today. I will keep this blog going, because I'm still working in the restaurant number 2, as I will continue to call it for lack of confusion.
This other job is at a playhouse (they have shows and stuff there, like from broadway. get your head out of the gutter, my friend).
It'll be included in my other blog (see my profile).

Anyways, my last blog was about sending stuff back.
I need to check out this movie, and you should too, although this DOES NOT happen everywhere, in fact I have yet to see it.
well, not all of it, and I will explain this once I see the movie.
Here's the trailer, it's called Waiting.

FAQ's

Q1: The food I got sucked! What should I do?
A1: Tell your server. Most likely they will offer you something else. If it's a steak or a burger, the cook may be asked to fire another one on the fly.

Something to know about steaks and meats in general, when you order the food, many restaurants undercook it slightly to what you requested. This is done purposely because if you overcook it, you have to make a completely new one if someone doesn't like whereas undercooked could be put back on the grill and made to your liking.

As I cook I feel like you should always say something if you don't enjoy your food. You're paying for it, and we're here to cater you.

If you ate half of it, piggy, then that's just asking for a free meal! Say something right away to avoid conflict.

Q2: I'm afraid the cook will spit in my food. Will you spit in my food if I send it back?
A1: My question is have you seen Clerks 2 or something? Also, have you seen some of the ridiculous movies out there? Please don't believe everything you've seen.

Honestly, someone might spit in your food one day, but it's doubtful.
I eat out a hell of a lot, because I work so much. I would NEVER and I don't know a single cook who would ever do so.
I guess this is more realistically found in fast food joints, and typically there are people being supervised. Please don't refuse to eat out because of this.

If you want to send something back, always be nice about it. The waitresses will be quick to tell a cook/superviser about the pain-in-the-ass at table 11, but they usually will say "oh those people at booth 4 were very nice about it".

problem solved.

FAQ's

So, I think I'll give you some frequently asked questions I've been asked over my next few posts.
Some will be realistic, others sarcastic, naturally.
Here we go, my friend, and if you have any questions, just ask.

Q1. How much should I tip a waitress?
A1. There are many answers to this question, but I guess it depends on the type of waitress you get and the type of person you are.

Did the food suck? If it did, then you weren't eating my food. Haha, just kidding.
If the food was awful and you were upfront about it, how did the waitress handle the situation? Did she offer you options: new food, a way to fix it, did she offer to take it off the bill?

Was she friendly? Did she cater to what you needed?
Did she seem knowledgable?

Bottom line is, if you had a good waitress, you really should tip 15% of the bill. All restaurants legally must make waitresses claim their tips for taxes; most places [all places I've worked at] have their waitresses claim 10%.
That is the absolute minimum you should tip, if you have an awful waitress.

I mean, stiffing a waitress, despite how blonde is never recommended by me, but the situation definitely influences your decision.

I, as a restaurant employee never tip below 20%, but I haven't had the most awful service ever, so I'm somwhat biased.

Today, the saga continued,

and I'm so irritated.

I got my haircut; it's short and not in my face, so why would I wear a hat now?
It's better than before when it was longer.

My manager is a lunatic.
I am NOT going to buy my own hairnets or a stupid camo trucker hat that you sell in the restaurant.

I'll keep saying it..

Cooks are the most obnoxious, sarcastic [and fun] people you will ever work with, hands down.
Of course, if you're the type of server who cries because I get mad when you put five checks up at one time, then you're much too weak to be friends with a cook.
This means, you should probably look into a job as a cashier at the local mini-mart or the mall.

I think, I could possibly be, one of the worst and best at the same time.
I have my weak moments, where I sympathize for the new waitress who drops the pork and sauerkraut in front of her customers, instead of calling her a dumbass.

I promise, we don't just criticize the waitresses.
We talk about everyone, even the owners.
If you can't even spell tomorrow, you'll be lucky to have the brains to keep your business running until then.
If you're a cook and you don't know the difference between a fish sandwich and a chicken patty, we let you know you suck.

Alright, I'll admit, we're not perfect. We make mistakes, but you shouldn't call us on it for two reasons.
1. We don't make as many in a month as you make in a day.
and
2. At the end of the day, it comes down to the fact that we are cooking what you put into your bodies.

Enjoy. =)

never trust a [not-so-skinny, eighty year old] cook

I love arguing with the owner.
We have a prep cook who has this desire to cook everything from memory, without recipes.

The problem is, she is over-the-hill..almost twice, oh, and she has this obsession with using corn starch in EVERYTHING.

Today, I decided enough is enough.
The food, in all honesty, sucks when she cooks it.

I told the owner how I felt, specifically how I hate the way the gravy looks/tastes/is made. Basically, the gravy is SLOP.
She told me to make it myself, so here's the rest of the conversation.

ME: Well, why do we have a prep cook?
HER: To cook everything else.
ME: But it all looks awful.
HER: Well then maybe the cooks who don't like her food can make it.
ME: Fine.
HER: Then we won't need a prep cook.
ME: Me and [other cook] will just freaking do it then.
HER: When will you find time?
ME: Well I could do some of it right now.
HER: She is staying; let's not talk about this anymore.

There is so much wrong with that place.
The food is awful. Goldilocks would never think it's "just right".
The building itself looks like the big bad wolf could blow it over.

My boss doesn't like to listen when I complain, then says that she will tell the prep cook that the reason why she has to follow the recipes is because I DON'T LIKE THE FOOD. I said, all of the cooks complain and even the manager has told you.

I will let you know how this disaster goes. Haha.

obsessive-compulsive, much?

I have OCD, majorly.

It often comes out while I'm dishwashing.

We send the silverware through the dishwasher on a flat tray and then separate it into forks, knives, spoons, steak knives, tablespoons, et cetera.
Well, when I do it, I separate it like this:
1 fork, 2 fork, 3 fork, 4 fork...
1 knife, two knife...
...8 soup spoon, 9 soup spoon...
It eventually becomes:
87 spoon, 88 spoon.

Yes, I've lost count, but I end up starting over.
I don't know why, but my mind does this subconsciously sometimes as well.

Damn dishwasher.

beets?

Does anyone know why I say, "make sure everything is dated in the cooler"?
Everyone gets so mad when I say to do this, mostly waitresses.
I guess it's because they are too lazy to write three numbers.
The typical response from this one lady is,
"We are going to use it before it goes bad."

Well, yesterday when I was cleaning out the cooler, there was a container that was dated.
It was a jug of red beets, and it definitely said "09-24-07".
Ha, and you don't know how tempted I was to put them in a monkey dish and offer them to you.

Disgusting.

higgamajig!

I worked a 14 hr. shift today (6am-8pm). I've been tired; sorry, but anyways, here we go. :)

My manager's husband has a plethora of stories.
Sometimes, I wonder if they're true, but cheese and rice, some are so weird, I wonder who could possibly make them up.

We will call this person H; this is how I'll reference him in the future.

and this is H's story (obviously not the EXACT quote, but close enough...

"When I was around ten, I was hanging out with my cousins and my one older cousin said, 'Hey, I have to show you guys something really cool!' He took us into the living room and showed them how to "higgamajig". We had no idea what it was, but when we found out, we were shocked. Of course we were j*rking off and all guys do it but at the time we thought we were the only people in the universe who knew about it, like it was a big secret, and we called it higgamajig."

Some of the people at work know the story and the people who do not are always confused because we often reference things in the restaurant back to it, as in:

"It was so busy, no one had time to even higgamajig".
or
"Did you higgamajig lately?"

and perhaps this is immature, inappropriate, or I suppose disgusting to some, but it makes me laugh and the day goes by faster, so it's fun.

sorry, everyone.

I promise, promise, promise I will fix this post with a good story.
I'm last-minute studying for an exam I have at 2, and I still have to get my butt back to school.

Wish me luck,
and I will post late tonight! :)

No food for you!

I'm cooking, and of course I have a "waitrissue" which means, the waitress was getting on my freaking nerves, also known as a waitress issue.

Okay, so she puts in an order for a wrap, and writes no tomato. It typically comes with lettuce and although the menu says mayo, we are told to not put it on unless the customer asks.
So, I ask her if she would like mayo, and she responds by saying, "You should know the menu". Haha. It turns out they did want it, and I hear her say, "Yeah, she can't cook. Ha. Ha. Ha".

Ten minutes later, she told me she was hungry, and I responded in her voice (which sounds like she sucked a helium balloon) "Sorry, I can't cook. ha ha ha".

Don't mess with a cook, I promise you'll get burned.

parking lot.

I love the people I work with. We have a good time.
I complain a lot, but in the end, I'm happy.

There's this on-going joke at restaurant #2 about "higgamajigging".
I promise I will explain this in tomorrow's post, but I want to leave you in suspense.
Maybe you can guess what it is.

I'll leave you with a little dialogue from today.
This was after work in the parking lot.

Owner D hears dishwasher J is a virgin.
Owner D: You are? How old are you?
J: 17
Owner D: You can't be one if you HIGGAMAJIG.
Me: Yeah, you can.
Owner D: Well, he's not gonna be if he hangs out with you in the parking lot!
J: Yeah, could you leave for a minute?

LOL.

turrrkeyyy, turkeeyy?

Okay, so one day the restaurant was basically dead.
One of the waitresses was attempting a crossword puzzle.
Can you even guess how this went? Haha.

The clue was: "Neighbor of Turkey". It was written just like that.
The waitress sat there staring.
I'm like, "what's wrong?"
She said, "I thought it was "chicken" but that's seven letters.
Maybe it's beef!"

Turkey is capitalized. I'm sure it means a country.
Perhaps Iraq.

In the meantime, she called to another waitress, who looked at it and said,
"Oh gee, I don't know.. Chicken has too many letters".

salad!

These are two salads I made at my one job recently:




The first is "Asian Chicken salad".

The second is a chef salad.

and they look banging. Well, I think so.

PS. I have a waitress story for tomorrow.

greeting.

HELLO!
I have pictures of some food I made.
You will be dazzled.

I'll put them up as soon as I find my camera chord.

Also, I have a new waitress story.
It just happened last night, of course. :)

This will all be up soon.

A watched pot never boils,

but I think the waitresses feel they have the power to cook by staring.

There is nothing more irritating than when a waitress types in an order and hands it to me and it's something like a steak WELL.
Well done does not take 4 minutes, stupid.

After putting in an order for steak well done, the waitress comes back less than five minutes later and stares.
She stares and stares and asks if her food was done.

Hey, blondie, if your WELL DONE STEAK was done in five minutes, it probably was still faintly mooing.
If it was done, I would put your food in the window. Jeez.

it's a small world...

Here's something a little complicated yet funny.

I worked at restaurant #1 with C.
C quit restaurant #1 and started working at restaurant #2.
I start working at restaurant #2 with C for extra cash.
C quit that job and gets job at another restaurant.

J works with her at this other restaurant, but also works at restaurant #1.
J told C my ex-boss who fired me from restaurant #1, used to work at restaurant #2 before I got there.

This is interesting; not sure if it's true, but it would explain A LOT.

What's up, stupid?

Okay, there's this waitress.
Dumb as rocks, of course.

WAITRESS: This lady wants a pizza with anchovies.
ME: We don't have anchovies. It's not even on the menu. Ask if she wants something else.
WAITRESS: What is an anchovy?
ME: It's sort of like a type of fish.
WAITRESS: Can you substitute other fish for it?
ME: Like what, baked haddock?
WAITRESS: Umm.. could you?
ME: No, you can't do that! It's like substituting peas for peppers!
WAITRESS: Oh, I didn't think they'd be any different.

DUMB, DUMB, DUMB!

bitter..sweet.

I'd love to shove in my boss's face that while she is struggling to find my replacement and a breakfast cook, I learned breakfast at my other job in order to help out.

Unless she wants to make 12 dozen scrambled eggs, 2 over easy, 4 over hard (all of these one at a time) and on top of that six mickey mouse shaped pancakes for two parents and their seven anklebiters.

Good luck lady.

stupid..boss

I love different colored appliances.
yellow spatulas.
red mixers.
green measuring cups.
orange pots.
blue pans.

i'm fun.and obsessed.
ah, i love to cook.

by the way, my boss cannot cook.
well, my ex-boss.
she has special red colored sautee pans
that she flips eggs in.
she cooks the eggs in a fast-paced restaurant
one at a time.

you know why?
because she says she cannot flip them on the grill.

ah, stupidity at its finest.

flashback. or something.

One time I working down in the ice cream shop.
It wasn't busy so I punched out, but stayed to talk to my supervisor.

I told her I'd sweep but while doing it I put quarters in the jukebox.
I sang and danced to RESPECT by Aretha Franklin, although it wasn't until the next day I found out there are video cameras down there.

I got to work and all I here are people singing.. "whatchu want, baby I got it".
I had a hard time living that one down. haha.

still frustrated.

Running that restaurant is the only thing I was ever sure about.
It kept me going, it made me feel important.

I gave up scholarships to Temple U, Kutztown, Immaculata, Cabrini, and took the small 1/3 scholarship from LVC so I could work at this job.

I gave up my friends from high school, worked every day of senior week, gave up my summers and weekends since I was a freshman in high school.

I gave up my family too. I worked during reunions and parties, and most of them won't speak to me.

I almost failed first semester and struggled through this one because my job is so demanding.

I feel like screaming, crying, cursing them out all at the same time.
They asked me to change who I was, my behavior and attitude.
I did, I was told I did a 360.

Then my manager, who only has been here about a month or so, told me I'm off the schedule.
She is such a horrible, miserable, disrespectful woman.

but I lost so much for my job, maybe I'd keep losing if I still worked there.

failing.falling.

I started working at restaurant #1 on July 28th, 2004.
I was new, and I was hassled because I wasn't the fastest dishwasher on the block.

I eventually became that. I worked so hard. I was so proud, and then I was bored.
I didn't want to dishwash all the time.

My manager [first manager] gave me the chance to do salad bar.
It was so easy, I decided to also dishwash because I felt lazy just doing salad bar.
Eventually I worked my way up to line cook.
I cooked and became the best, I really did.
I was bored, and wanted to waitress.
I was a fill-in server.
I memorized orders, didn't write anything down.

I also worked in the arcade, at the rides, in the ice cream shoppe and for the camper area. I've done it all. I know it all.

I always cooked though, always.
I love the rush of getting a window full of tickets.
I love being wheel-man, controlling the line.

I wanted control of the whole restaurant.
I started becoming a leader figure. I was the go-to person.

My new manager [the fifth one I've had] felt threatened.
I think she did. She didn't like me doing anything but standing on the line.
I didn't like that but I'm better than her. I know I am.

I'm rambling, wondering what's next for me.
Losing to her makes me feel like I'm incapable, of a lot.
That place had my heart, and it gave me confidence.

I left school yesterday, and have yet to go back.
I need a push.

Stubborn..

How can so many people say that "taking me off the schedule" is a mistake and the owner won't budge at all?
I guess there's no ice cream shop for me, or anything else for that matter.

I used to say that the only way I'd leave was if they got rid of me, and hoped for it before because I feared being there forever.

Now, I don't know what I'm thinking.

On Sunday,

I had my job, but today I did not.
I had a missed call from restaurant #1.
I called back. My manager was bothered by the fact I went to another manager and complained about what she told me on Friday [see other post].

She says I went behind her back, and she can't risk that happening again.
Apparently, I have some pull at the restaurant and she must have gotten in huge trouble.
I'm a cook; in my heart I'm a cook.
She won't allow me to continue being that.

Am I fired? Not exactly.
For that I have to wait and see.
Because I work at a "family friendly center/park" and there are other areas in which I can work. It's just up to the owner whether I can do so.

My co-workers who found out are absolutely furious.
I am too, but after leaving school and crying for a few hours, I thought about it.
Maybe there's a spot for me there yet.

Until then, restaurant #2 called and they would like me on the schedule full-time.
Maybe this is my sign to get out of the restaurants.
Maybe this is happening because it's been secretly a dream to go to cooking school, and now I'm supposed to do something else.

Upcoming posts are going to include stuff on my first day and how I ended up there for so long.

Almost four years I can't take back.
I don't think I would either.
I apologize, my friend, because these posts will be more serious.

I suck..

Friday I went to the restaurant for my paycheck and my boss/manager was less than pleased. I helped bus a few tables clad in rugby attire.
She decided to tell me my attitude sucks and I wasn't doing anything good for the restaurant.
I mean, all I do, according to her is request off.

So with that, I smiled and said:

"I actually do have a few more days that I need off. I was going to tell you but I was too busy telling the waitresses how to use the cash register since you do not know how. Have a GREAT day."

Of course later, I cried.
Why? Because I hate being disrespected and I guess that makes me weak.

charge isn't always quicker..

You know those credit card commercials where the people are flying through lines and the person who goes to write a check or pay with cash slows down the line.
Well at the restaurant, it's the waitresses who slow down the credit card process.

Yesterday, while in class, my phone rings.
Restaurant #1 has a line at the cash register.
We have computer-like cash registers.
None of the managers, waitresses, or additional staff know how to fix a credit card slip. They overcharged.
If you can't figure out how to fix it, then refund the customers.
It was only four dollars.
Meanwhile, the line won't be so backed up.

Then they called back to ask again about the register.
I'm a line cook, not a cashier.
Learn how to do it yourself!

Math whiz..

NOT BLONDE WAITRESS: Do you have a calculator?
I'm counting the drawer, but what's 537.32 minus 200.00?
I'm so confused. WHERE IS THAT CALCULATOR?
ME: It's 337.32.
NOT BLONDE WAITRESS: Wow you're good.
ME: No, it's simple math
NOT BLONDE WAITRESS: Well, I was never good at calculus.
ME: Hunny, that's third grade subtraction.

I couldn't even make this stuff up..

post secret

I was just on post secret, which I love. Anyways, I saw this one, and it made me laugh..



but it's not me, I swear. LOL.

Okay, so, advice?

My previous manager [meatloaf man] once told me:
"Noelle, stop being friends with the people you work with."

How close is too close to be with your co-workers anyways?
This is my question.
Because, if I'm there 40+ hours, shouldn't I be able to get along with them?

And also, how much of your life is it okay to let co-workers in on?
This is just a bit more serious, type of, hey can you give me some advice or experiences blog..

You're a Horrorshow.

There is no reason why a manager should ask me which chicken is white meat and which is dark.
If you're getting paid twice as much as me, you should be twice as good.
Your perfume still sucks and your make-up is straight out of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

I worked at both jobs today (6am-9pm total), so I have plenty to talk about. I'm just lacking the energy right now!
More to come tomorrow.

A raise or a slap in the face?

Yeah, so my paycheck comes.
No raise, but alas a little post-it note.
"Thanks for all you do; you will receive a 25 cent raise"
I guess four years of hard work gets you a quarter.
Ha.

New Kid on the Block #2..

..smells like a french prostitute who collided with a gypsy.
She was dressed in sequins so sparkly, I swear I was having an epilepic seizure,
and her perfume was so strong, I needed an inhaler.

Ode to the Customers..

I gave you types of servers; now bring in the customers!

-The Aspiring Plumber: Sits at the counter with his butt-crack hanging out.
-The Customer in a Bubble: Allergic to just about everything and must ask for every ingredient.
-The old pervert: Sometimes a widower, most times never married who is overly horny. Makes more sexual innuendos than he has wrinkes on his face.
-The "I want my meal free" customer: is one of two people. He either a. complains about everything including the taste of the water or b. eats his meal, licks the plate and then claims it sucks.
-The usual: Comes into the restaurant every day and orders the same meal.
-The procrastinator: arrives 10 minutes prior to closing and usually orders something time consuming.

There are more, and I'll definitely list them in another post soon.
Let me know if you're one of these (if you're willing to admit it)
or if you've seen a certain type. :)

Kiss the Cook

Okay, so there is this line cook I work with...
He's smart and hilarious. He listens to [some] good music.
He is fun to work with because we get along really well.
So I thought, oh no, I cannot possibly like another cook, right?
But I did...

Well, boy, you are lazy and you cannot cook very well.
and that just turns me off.

Learn how to flip a burger behind your back, and then we'll talk.

We called her green beans..

I want to tell you a story about the dumbest waitress I have ever encountered.
I coined her green beans (GB) because it was our occasional vegetable of the day, yet she took orders for them from a bunch of her tables.

Anyways, one day I came out front and began to ramble about the air..
Me: "Oh my God, I forgot to take the air sample today, and I'm so busy!"
GB: "An air sample? For what?"
Me: "We have to take air samples weekly to make sure the oxygen is healthy to breathe. Can you do it for me?"
GB: "Are you serious?"
Me: "Yes, it's really important. This is how you do it. You take a plastic bag and shake it open. Give it four solid shakes and quick tie it up before the air escapes and bring it back over."

Green Beans walks to the corner of the restaurant, customers staring and collects an air sample.
I was laughing so hard, I couldn't breathe the air anyways.

I know, I'm a horrible person.
Did I mention cooks are generally really obnoxious/sarcastic?

crazy cook

The green is already hurting my eyes, but I really needed a change in scenery.
Maybe I should try another color..
What do you guys think?

I am almost positive that I'm going to snap at work today,
so hopefully I'll have something entertaining for later.
I think I need to take sabbatical.

on the line..

Today, I don't want to share how the waitress dropped table 7's food right in front of them. I don't want to ramble on about how my boss can't flip eggs.

I'm going to be a little more serious, and let you in on my life.. just a little.
Okay, so this summer I worked 40-50 hour weeks.
Through this, you get a lot closer to your co-workers, sometimes too close.

I had a thing, more than a thing, call it whatever with one of the cooks.
Oh, he had a girlfriend who also worked there, oops.
Even when I came to college, he would visit basically every day and pick me up just to hang out.
He eventually quit the job, and expected me to do the same.
I couldn't compromise my job for him, and eventually the visits became fewer and farther between.
I felt really empty for awhile.
I guess I'm over it now, but sometimes thinking about it makes me cringe.

So yeah, that was harder than it should have been to type, but in all seriousness, the waitress did drop two pork and sauerkrauts in front of the table and my boss cannot flip eggs on the grill.

New Kid on the Block..

My new manager blows.

Burnt-out cook

Is it bad that I'm keeping my one job because of this blog?

Also, I'm tired.
I work forty hours a week.
two jobs.
cooking and cooking
it's a lot of hamburgers, my friend.

i came home from restaurant #2 to nap for 1.5 hours
and now I must go to my other job.

I hope to have something interesting for tonight!

Is this rare enough for ya?

I really want to see this movie.



I have always been tempted to be like Catherine Zeta-Jones in the opening part of this trailer.

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If you want pie,

do not ask a waitress at restaurant #1.
I experienced de ja vu last night.
Another waitress asked which was the coconut cream pie.
The other cook working said the servers ask her a lot too.

Are you kidding me? Am I missing something?
Obviously, we need to have a tutorial on the different types of pies.

What bugs me is, we've had some good waitresses in the past, and my just fired boss let them go. At least THEY knew which pie was which.

Permanent Scar

I joke and complain about the frustrations of my job, but I'd like to tell a true story about my dedication.

I became best friends with a group of employees over the summer.
We rented a cabin and got trashed.
3 of us were like, we should get tattoos with [insert restaurant (#1) name here].

I guess people say dumb things when they're drunk.
We're just the ones who go through with it while sober.

So yes, I (along with two other co-workers, both don't work there anymore) got a tattoo.
It's a simple design, a star with swirls around it, three letters on the inside of the star.
The letters are the initials of the restaurant I work at.

And where is this lovely scar?
It's on my b-u-t-t, my friend.

I just wanted to share that.
I'm devoted.

Burnt Meatloaf.

I just wanted to inform you all my boss who makes green eggs and made me turn the burger into a meatloaf was fired on 4-1.

And I assure you, it was no April Fool's joke.

Crash and Burn

I get cut and burned a lot at my jobs.

I just wanted to share an experience from Restaurant #2.
I'll keep it short.

This had to be one of my flighty, waitress moments.
I had just turned off the steamer and began to get all of the food out.
I pulled on a half pan that was filled to the brim.
Hot Chicken Pot Pie spilled on my hand.
Naturally an "ouch" and letting the Pot Pie spill followed.
Of course, it spilled all over the rest of my arm.

Doesn't sound so bad, huh?
Half of my arm turned into a big fluid filled bubble
and I had to go to the hospital to get my second degree burns treated.
=(

Sam I Am.. Green Eggs and Ham.

I wanted to share my Easter.
I worked at restaurant #2 from 5:30am-8:30am cooking breakfast, alone, for the first time.
It was. umm. interesting?

but that's not my story..
I went to restaurant #1 right after. They had a "brunch" buffet that included scrambled eggs.
My boss made these eggs, and I'm sure Dr. Suess didn't appreciate them at all.
They were green

My manager, the supposed chef should probably know that eggs cannot be in a metal pan, because they turn green from steam. He didn't even add lemon juice.

Point of the story, the boss cannot cook.

I'd really like to..

86 the waitresses..


So, the special for today is free waitresses. Please, take them off my hands.
Okay, not all waitresses are terrible, but you definitely need to work in a restaurant to understand the different types.


Next time you go out to eat, see which one of these is yours...

The "forgot to take her ritalin" waitress: Sometimes the aspiring actress, will be overly perky and annoying to receive larger tips.


The "on an LSD trip" waitress: She is sometimes has off the wall emotions or is completely spaced out, as if experiencing the effects of LSD.


The table-hog waitress: She stampedes the hostess in attempts to take tables not only in her section, but in every other server's as well.


The eat while she works waitress: You watch from your table in horror as your waitress gorges on french fries drenched in ketchup and then brings your food without washing her hands.


The tip-n-dash waitress: She swoops in for her tip and leaves her table un-bussed and filthy for the next person to deal with.

The clumsy waitress: She spills your food on the floor in front of you and then makes a scene and a complete fool of herself.

The VERY clumsy waitress: She spills your food or beverages right on you.

The "wanna-be doctor" waitress: Her handwriting is so sloppy, she must come back to the table and ask for your order again.

I'm sure I can come up with more, but enjoy that!

Here's a tip...

...for the waitresses I work with.
Purchase a brain. You can use your tips from the old perverts who basically pay to stare at your chest.

Do not come up to the cook's window ever again with two pieces of pie like this and ask,
"Which is the coconut cream?"



The coconut cream pie will always be the one with the coconut.

Here's an equation: coconut + cream + pie crust = ... yes, coconut cream pie.Bananas go on.. umm.. oh boy, this is tricky. perhaps the banana cream pie?

Dumbass.

cooking pot.

I never realized how much people liked smoking pot, that is until I started working in restaurants.



Restaurant #1: One day a year or so back I went to the freezer to find two of our line cooks in there with dryer sheets in hand smoking pot. Wow.

Another time it was my assistant manager, and in the parking lot, it was our other cook and salad bar guy.

They no longer work there.



Restaurant #2, the one cook bribed the other potheads with buds for favors. Haha. I don't have buds, so I'm usually screwed.



It wasn't peer pressure, but I did try the pot in the parking lot of resaurant #2. Just to try, my friend.

But yeah, I just want to end this post by saying, I do not smoke pot. Ha. Thanks. :)

Vegetable of the Day..

Irony in a can.

I worked at restaurant #2 where the Christmas Tree a.k.a. the owner basically said that I can't cook.
So idiot cook #1 asked if I put bacon on a tray for him and I said, "yes, but I don't know how to cook, so.."
and the Christmas Tree (oh, I'm so tempted to use the name of the restaurant), denied even saying it, and she was basically overly bitchy and annoying. She can barely even use the cash register.

but.. umm.. yeah..
so I go to restaurant #1.
The owner calls and asks apparently the "important" workers how my performance is and junk.
She then asks to speak with me over the phone and says she is impressed with my cooking/other skills. Ha, and I'm getting a raise.

So I guess I can suck out loud and get a raise (eventually) all in one day.

No Pants, No Service.

I always believed something to that effect should be added to the "No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service" signs.

Anyways, this old man, possibly between the ages of 60 and 65, likes to come in and eat regularly.
And by regularly, I mean whenever the cute blondes work.

He is what I classify as the old-man-pervert-creeper.
He sits at the counter and flirts with the waitresses, who are overly-friendly for a nice chunk of change.
In the mean-time, I proceed to fill the salad-bar and alas, I turn to find your disgusting old buttcrack sticking out.
Please, put your shit away.
I promise no one is interested.

Special of the Day...

Sitting is free.



In restaurant #1, we have signs hanging that are obviously old.
They are from when the restaurant originally opened in the 1930's.
Yet, I get questions, complaints, and annoying attempts to be witty from customers.

...



"Ma'am, err, excuse me miss? Is paying for a table really necessary?"
"Will the table charge be added to my bill?"
"What's the difference between a small and large table?" *points to sign*

Note the sign has a coca cola logo.
The clock in the background and the soda machine are PEPSI.

So now, I must argue with said customers who cannot grasp the concept we only have Pepsi products.
"I'd like a Coke, please"
"Is Pepsi alright?"
"No, it says Coke"
*points to sign*
"Oh, I'm sorry. That's an old sign. We only have Pepsi."
*5-second pause*
"Just give me a water!"

Good, and you can use the water to wash down the non-existant 25 cent hot-dogs we sell.

Hairnets are for the birds.

The owner of restaurant #2 is a royal pain.
I'm sorry for putting it so bluntly, but you are, lady.

I'm tired of how you look like a christmas tree with your green shirt and red socks visible due to your flood jeans.
Besides that, stop telling me to wear a freaking hairnet.
I know I can't have my hair flowing onto my shoulders (although I'd prefer).
I will gladly pull my hair back or wear a hat of my choice.

I will not, however, wear that stupid universal hat that has been on everyone's heads already.
I also, will never again wear the ridiculous cafeteria worker hairnet.

I will not wear it in my hair.
I will not wear it here or there.
I will not wear it on a box.
I will not wear it with my socks.
I will throw it in the trash,
so you can kiss my ash.

It's bad enough I'm working at 6am; do not scream at me for not wearing a hat.
I don't get paid enough to buy one.

Now, I must get ready to work at restaurant #1.
Wish me luck, my friend.

Behind the Scenes..

The special for today is having no customers for two hours,
with a side of boredom. Your beverage is not included.

Restaurants have down time, and then they have "dead time" in which no customers come in. My boss constantly told me, "there's plenty to do".This plenty includes cleaning, prepping, re-stocking, more cleaning... So then what?

These pictures were from back in the day, a restaurant I've been working at since 2004.
Keep in mind, I was only 16 years old at this time...

This is me and a dishwasher attempting to imitate a pretty crappy movie:
I think we did a fair job. =)

And this one is a dishbin race; we basically moved at the pace of the song Rowboat by Emily Haines. Haha.

so, there's a new restaurant perspective for you.

Just an appetizer

Hi! I just want to apologize to the three top who ordered a senior meatloaf, a meatloaf dinner, and an order of liver and onions. We only had two pieces of meatloaf left and despite I insisted upon telling you this information, my manager made me withhold it. As a result, I was forced to give half of an 8 oz. hamburger and fake it into a senior meatloaf. I'm terribly sorry you paid nine bucks for a portioned out hamburger. My boss is a douchebag.

Love, your microwave chef.

Discussing Politics over Dinner..

..might just lead to a food fight of sorts.

Yesterday, Chelsea Clinton visited my college campus.
Being a very liberal democrat, I stood in line for a few hours and managed to be in second row.
The experience was something I decided to share with my co-workers.

This in-turn brought up some disturbing and very ignorant views on politics that I didn't even realize people thought about.

So, let me just begin by saying, yes, I am a Democrat, but I'm very open because I'm fond of Ron Paul as well.
Mentioning this at work led to most people I work with asking me, "Who is Ron Paul?". Wow, that's pathetic. No offense, if you are not aware of who he is. Google him, and perhaps you will gain some insight.

Anyways, my mention of seeing Chelsea Clinton at school led to numerous discussions and questions...

"Is Chelsea the one with the green teeth? I know she has green teeth." No, she does not have green freaking teeth, thanks.
"Those Democrats, I can't even vote for them." Pfft, why not?

Intellectual thoughts on Hillary by my co-workers.
"Her eyes are all buggy".
"She is a woman"
"Her husband cheated on her"
"She just wants power"

Okay, so these are somewhat typical, but the Obama conversation really got me fired up.
"I don't trust him. You know he is Muslim?"
"Yeah, and they want a terrorist to be President"
"The country is going to be blown up before we know it!"

My thoughts:
How fucking racist are you?
He's been in these elected positions before.
For Christ's sake, he's a senator.
He for surely would have blown up the place by now.

All I say is, he is an American you know?
and they tell me about all of his ties as if they are government spies and they know him front to back.

Whatever.

This is my cue to leave.
The only candidate they have left to vote for is John McCain, who we might as well call the-hundred-years-war-man, or George Bush III.
but hey since they think they can do a better job, maybe they can write themselves in and establish a .000002% vote for themselves. Of course, this number would be a lot less, but you get my drift.

I hope you enjoyed your side dish for the day.