Any decent cook or server has subtle routines or quirks that the second shift encourage. They may not know there is a huge fucking line at 8:15 am at any Starbucks. Rather, they mosey in for a no-wait espresso drink, oblivious to the early chaos the coffee shop saw. While normal folk are approaching hour three of work, we are nailing the bids on The Price Is Right.
What's bad about that? It is about the only cool thing, that is what's bad. Oh, and we are very open for doctor appointments. I forgot about that sweet perk. A kitchen lifer working dinner service, five nights a week, exist in a purgatory of not being able to participate.
Meeting for drinks at six o' clock Tuesday night? Sorry, crab leg night, I'll be sphincter deep in Old Bay broth then... What about shots at 1:30 am before the bar closes? No!? Oh, right you have to leave at 7:30 am tomorrow to be able to swing by Starbucks.
During most new job orientations they explain the benefits, holidays and such you'll have off. Shit, they don't give us Columbus Day off?? In restaurants, you get to pick if you take Thanksgiving or Christmas off, you can't have both.
Nights, holidays, weekends. Those three times are huge for most people. They become just times. Times that give you an annual idea of what you'll be doing. Mother's Day? Not with mom, unless mom is working the dessert bar, next to my carving station. What about any given Friday night? The lifer is owning what ever kitchen station needs it.
For every old timer trying to figure his way out of the game, there is a young buck ready to step in. A new foot soldier, not phased by the hours. I benefited from those salty old dudes as a young cook. They taught me a lot about cooking, working, sacrifice, bourbon and cocaine. I mean if your going to work all these shitty hours, you need to have fun doing it.
No comments:
Post a Comment