What's Your Poison

Oh my little worker bees. I got to work to find that the bookkeeper that my husband fired three days ago is doing the restaurant’s bookkeeping right where I intended to eat dinner. So I ate in the back of the kitchen where the health inspector just hung a new sign about how once upon a time a guy had diarrhea, went to work, didn’t wash his hands, got 256 people sick, shut down the restaurant, and killed a 56 year old woman. I thought it was a little dramatic for a sign above the sink that reminds you to wash your hands. But, honestly it fits right in with the other huckabaloo that unfolds in that kitchen. About fifteen minutes after I finished eating, I walked through the kitchen to find the head-cook coddling the dishwasher, who happens to be his sister-in-law. They have a typical Mexican brother-in-law/sister-in-law relationship in which he appears to always be trying to get into her pants and she always looks willing but afraid. So at first I just thought it was more of their odd flirtations but then I could tell that she was crying and hurt. In turns out she pulled a pan of hot potatoes off of the stove and burnt herself with boiling water. Although I am sure she is going to be fine, I sent her home with an ice pack. Which meant that the head cook had to leave for 30 minutes. So that left the other cook at sauté and me in pantry, and let me tell you -- I make a mean Greek Salad. I am always completely out of my element in the kitchen and I love it because it is a challenge. I also love it because I don’t have to talk to anybody except for the food runner and the other cook. It really is a nice break from the bar.

The new girl I hired, whose father is a chef, is getting freaked out and I can tell that we are too busy for her. I think she knows she is in over her head and I’m not really quite sure what to do with her because I like the run the floor really tight since we pool tips and everyone is good. But there is no way she can be out there in the restaurant, there are 21 tables if they are full that are being serviced by two servers and a foodrunner/busser. Obviously a lot of tables are just cocktailing, but nonetheless is a lot to handle and I can tell that there is no fucking way. Which means I have to sit down with her and figure out how to get her to where I need her, which means I’m going to freak her out. Which means hopefully she toughens up and figures it out. It just freaks me out because it reminds me a lot of the girl I just fired and I really don’t feel like reliving that. At least from the new round of hiring I got one really great girl and now the firefighter is coming back because she wasn’t getting any firefighting work and her crew chief is a crackpot who won’t pay her.

These are my two next choices:

A girl that works on a coffee cart at a golf course. In my ad it says experienced high-volume fine-dining server. What about coffee cart barista is any one of those.

Or I had a girl come in yesterday who works on a chuck wagon at a horse coral and told me she got 100% on her food handlers permit card, which everyone gets 100% on. They ask you things like, “Do you store ice cream in a freezer of an oven.” I told her, “Impressive. Let me put your resume in a safe place in case something in the food handling department comes up.”

Cheers!

There's a guy sitting at a bar, just looking at his drink. He stays like that for half an hour.

Soon, a big trouble-making truck driver steps next to him, takes the drink from the guy, and just drinks it all down.

The poor man starts crying. The truck driver says, "Come on man, I was just joking. Here, I'll buy you another drink. I just can't stand seeing a man crying."

"No, it's not that. This day is the worst of my life. First, I fall asleep, and I'm late to my office. My boss, in an outrage, fires me. When I leave the building to my car, I found out it was stolen.

"The police say they can do nothing. I get a cab to return home and when I leave it, I remember I left my wallet and credit cards there. The cab driver just drives away. I go home and when I get there, I find my wife in bed with the gardener. I leave home and come to this bar.

"And when I was thinking about putting an end to my life, you show up and drink my poison."