Nine Wings and Three Fries

My shift today was 1 pm to close. By the time we finished all the dishes, cleaned the stations, swept and mopped, "close" was 9 pm. Very early! But then again, it gets dark at 7 pm these days. Long gone are the summer days when I would get home at midnight because we'd have people ordering dinner around 9:30 pm. Now when the schedule shows me working 5 to close I cringe because it means I'll get four hours of work if I'm lucky.

I was to do breakfast tomorrow, bright and early, but that got changed this evening. Just before leaving, Chef looked at the schedule and said "Bella, why don't you come at 11 a.m instead? 11 -7. I can do breakfast on my own if you guys stock up the line and if in need I can always call you, you're only 10 minutes away, 15 if you have to get dressed." Of course I gave an ear to ear smile and said "sure!", as if nothing would give me greater pleasure. In truth, although I am happy to work two extra hours, it would have been nice getting home at 2 pm and enjoying a nice dinner at home with Jen. Instead, I'll come home after 7 pm, too late to make dinner, and we'll end up eating restaurant food in front of the Tv.

Let me tell you the fine cookery I did today. Between 1 and 2:30 I was alone on the line. Although both the Chef and the Sous-Chef were in the building, they were nowhere to be found. Maybe they were putting away the supplies delivery that always comes in Tuesday. This left me to fend for myself. Philly Cheese Steak with Caesar, Thai Chili Wrap with fries, Burgers, Chicken Fingers, Steak sandwiches and Roasted Vegetable Soup were all ordered. It was steady for two hours. Then, when it slowed down, my Chef and Sous-Chef also appeared. And it started: "Please check the line and fill it up." "After you fill up the line, can you clean the pork tenderloin?" "Little Chef, do we have any chicken back-up?" "Here, cut this up, we need a s**t load of backup." "C'mon, you've been cleaning those for 30 minutes, be done with those now!" Like a ball in a pinball machine I went, completing request after request. They only stopped and gave me peace when the dinner rush started. Hah! Who would have thought I'd find peace during the dinner rush. But it was only then that my head began to relax and my thoughts were allowed to run, uninterrupted. "Drop twosome" my head said. "Small caesar, small greens with balsamic, sonoma salad." "Turn around, twosome should be ready by now, let's plate it." Out loud: "Chef, can I get that quesadilla? And I also need from you a veggie turnover." "Are you ready for it now?" Chef asked. "In about three minutes!" And so we went for three hours until it stopped, at 8 pm and I took my five minute break, after which it was time to rotate the containers on the line, fill them up, disinfect, and finally sweep and mop.

My own dinner tonight consisted of nine wings and three fries. I brought them from work, naturally. I was too lazy to cook anything else at that hour. By the time I got home the fries were cold and gross so I only ate three; not even Charlie was interested in them. I am already thinking about what to bring home tomorrow, the stuff no longer appeals to me after seeing it and cooking it and smelling it all these months.