Week 1 is over. Surprisingly undramatic.

Well I managed to make it through my first week of work and now have a couple of days off. I would have maybe posted something but am literally too exhausted after I get home. It’s a mixture of work and my ever increasing age I suppose. I’m not a young pup anymore and the difference between your 20’s and 30’s is quite noticeable. ;)

The first day started off really stressful. I was thrown on the line immediately after I clocked in. No quick refresher course or training whatsoever, just a friendly, “Let me know if you need help. I’ll be in the back working on prep.” Holy shit, talk about a crappy welcome back. I hastily begin looking through the coolers and cold table set up to memorize to the best of my ability where items and ingredients are so I’m at least minimally prepared when the orders begin.

The servers are coming back into the kitchen to chat with me. There are so many familiar faces and we are all just blabbing away about what everyone’s been up to the last few years, etc. Even the ones I have never seen before are graciously introducing their selves and all of them have bubbly personalities. It really makes my morning seeing them again as they kindly welcome me back with open arms. I tell them all I’m going to be rusty but they just laugh and say, “Well it can’t be any worse than it has been.” They tell me that the place has been completely barren with cooks and the ticket times are abominable. That makes me feel a little better because I have at least a little leeway then.

The tickets begin to flow in and I’m not really having any problems. I cooked many of the items, minus the promotions, so intensely when I worked here last time that they still are somehow stored in my brain. I’m actually a bit surprised at how well I’m compensating for the gap in years. I overhear the girls commenting on how I haven’t lost my touch and how nice it is to have me back. That’s so sweet! One even says at a later time in the day, “Wow, this ticket only took you 6 minutes. If (assistant GM’s name) was cooking it would have taken 40. Hahahaha! That’s hilarious. He even overhears her and gives her a dirty look. They all have a good laugh at his expense as I believe it was just harmless and playful banter though it does help build my confidence up a little bit.

A few hours later, a new cook enters the building. The manager decides to put him on the line with me since I’m doing well and wants me to start to train him. Uh, what?! He tells me that he’ll be up shortly to open the other side, which I’ll explain next paragraph, and it shouldn’t be too stressful. I tell him to train him and I’ll just cook solo but he says that I and the new cook will be working together over the weekend so it would be beneficial if we got used to each other. OMFG! I knew the puppy dog kisses and rainbow dreams couldn’t last forever, but I was hoping it would be longer than 3 hours into my first day.

I’ll explain our cooking line set up a bit so you all can better get a picture. Every other restaurant I’ve worked in, besides this one, has a “basic” line. There is a broiler, a flat top grill or 2, deep fryers, a stove or sometimes multiple, your cold and hot tables on top with cutting boards in front of them, and various coolers and freezers here and there. The newer and more efficient kitchens have refrigerated and frozen sliding drawers, like a dresser, that you can just pull out for quick access. I’m sure you could Google a picture to get a better idea.

Anyways, this kitchen has an egg grill, two additional grills next to that, two deep fryers, and a huge broiler at the end. All of the coolers and freezers are of the drawer variety with a few reach in coolers to boot. That is exactly half of the line. The other half consists of the aforementioned, but completely mirrored, so everything is the same just opposite for the second half of the line. In essence, there are 2 cooking lines.

One set of cooks hammers out their own tickets from a printer on one side and another set of cooks does the same from their printer on the other. When one side gets overwhelmed, the less loaded section goes over and takes tickets from them. It generally works out very well and we basically have two cooking lines working on customer orders during the busy times. Each side is extremely compact but it’s really efficient when you need to pump out some serious food quickly. It’s also exceedingly difficult as 2 cooks are now expected to do the work of 3-5 sections that a normal single line kitchen would have.

I chat with the new guy and learn that he used to work here a few years ago. That’s a huge relief because he knows a decent amount already. So he and I just plug away and actually do very well. When it starts to get busy, the kitchen manager comes up to the other side and takes the excess tickets. We struggle through lunch service a little but nothing to get worried about. It turns out to be a good refresher as fighting through the tickets is a great way to pound them into your head.

The day finishes without really any problems and I even get to leave 10 minutes early. Holy crap! It used to be that you always were needed to stay past your scheduled quitting time, but not today I guess. First day completed. Actually no complaints from me and I’m quite happy about how the whole shift went. I know it won’t stay this way; it just can’t, period.

I realize this post isn’t filled with the drama that everyone is used to reading, but I just wanted to put something down so you all know I didn’t abandon the blog. I probably post later on tonight if I get time (however the weather is perfect here finally!) how my first weekend went, especially considering it was Memorial Day weekend plus our city had graduation as well. Until then, in another day in the life of a line cook.

Reflection.

Thinking back on my time spent at the previous restaurant made me realize the last four months were basically a complete waste. The only exception would be a couple of new friends I made. The rest was a huge disappointment. There were no perks or benefits other than half priced meals. Whoopee! I never really took any breaks unless made to do so, and I just wanted to get the hell out of there after my shift was over, so I never hung around to prepare anything for myself to take advantage. So I’m glad my time there was limited as I truly had no foreseeable future in any aspect of that business.

Don’t get me wrong, though. I am always grateful to be able to secure employment no matter the labor. It’s just a bummer that my chosen field isn’t generally available in my area, plus I’m in no position to move. There are so many more opportunities even just one hundred miles away. I’ve planted some very firm roots and I love my city, so I’m here to stay and will adjust accordingly.

The majority of this blog has been increasingly negative. Working in a restaurant kitchen isn’t always as horrific as I put down. There are “some” enjoyable aspects that I really do appreciate.

Cooking as a whole, I do like. Sure it can get hot and dirty. The stressors can really do a number on your mind, but the time flies by so fast that it’s amazing. I love that! There is always something else that can be done if tickets are slow. You can find virtually limitless things to keep you busy and there is very little watching the clock. I’ve worked at , and hated, places with so much down time or the work was so monotonous that it became absolutely mind numbing. I’ve been employed at several large companies with excellent pay and benefits and inevitably quit because the labor drove me to near insanity due to boredom. Some people would be happy making minimum wage sitting in a chair and staring at a wall for eight hours a day. I just wasn’t built that way.  I need to be challenged. I need to keep occupied. I love using my brain and overcoming obstacles. My most beloved job to date was a cooking position in a Ma and Pa establishment where I spent nearly a decade before they closed the doors for good.

Some places allow for creativity. Who doesn’t like trying new things and being adventurous? Well, I suppose there are some, but I like to think most people enjoy using their imagination and a chance at originality. The sky is the limit when it comes to food and it’s really satisfying when you can put your personality into a conception. It’s also very rewarding when other people get enjoyment out of your concoctions.

I love to dine out and even though this goes without saying, the meal is a crucial part of the overall dining experience. I thoroughly enjoy preparing excellent food that helps ensure a fellow human being has a pleasant experience. When someone tells me they loved their food, such as a perfectly cooked steak, I am absolutely thrilled, not necessarily because of the compliment, but I was able to provide a service that someone genuinely enjoyed. See, I’m not that bitter after all. =)

Wages can be exceedingly high. In one of the restaurants I worked at I made over double the median rate for the state I live in. The pay was incredible, even more so because I had no liabilities, but so was the stress. It’s still possible to make a good living just being a basic cook, so long as you are good at it and you’re devoted. You don’t have to take a management promotion to earn a higher pay rate. Often, you get abused with a salaried position because if there is no agreement, you get shafted on overtime, and boy oh boy, there is always expected overtime. When I was in upper management, I worked a minimum of fifty hours per week, which was totally fine, though there were many, many periods where I had to cover upwards and over ninety hours a week with no additional compensation.

The atmosphere is generally quite relaxed. I’ve never enjoyed wearing a suit and tie, like was required in an old job of mine. The environment was so stuffy and over the top conservative. I like being able to joke around and have fun with people without worrying about the most miniscule thing possibly being offensive or inappropriate. There are many more individuals with a sense of entitlement and that makes me sick. Sure I’ve met those types in food service too, but you can easily bring them down a peg or two, and it’s very fulfilling. Just because you have a fancy job and title doesn’t make you any better of a human being than the person making or serving you food. PERIOD! Thinking that way actually makes you worse.

Co-workers are a double-edged sword. They can either make or break the job. I understand that this is everywhere you go; however, food service has such a significant fluctuation in the classes of individuals that work there. My favorite part of working in this industry, by far, is the awesome people I have had the opportunity to work with. I’ve met absolutely incredible people from all walks of life. High school kids, college students, out of work professionals, adults who enjoy the business, retirees that just want something to do or a little supplemental income; the list is endless. There is no doubt in my mind that the food service industry has allowed me this honor of being able to see how truly magnificent people are. I’ve made countless friendships and been part of a camaraderie I haven’t found anywhere else. In the same light, I’ve met the most atrocious excuses humankind has to offer, though won’t elaborate any further this post, as I do want to keep it a rare happy one. =)

There is no doubt that the food service industry can indeed be a nightmare, and often is. There is always at least a small glimmering ray of sunshine hidden behind the clouds. Restaurant employment isn’t all bad and I just figured I post my positives rather than negatives for a change. I never imagined I’d be ending a post on a pleasant note, but I’m actually smiling as I reflect on the good things. Until next time, in another day in the life of a line cook.

Optimist or pessimist; undecided.

I went in early this morning for a bit of a re-initiating. The moment I hit the kitchen, it felt like I had never left. I walked back into the baking and prep area and the smells were so familiar. It’s funny how closely the sense of smell and memory are related because I started having flashbacks once the air met my nose. It smelled quite wonderful, don’t get me wrong, though the reflection to a darker time was very off putting.

The same bakery manager is there, plugging away with her pastries, such a comforting sight. I call out, “Hey there!” with a smile on my face and she looks up. She doesn’t seem particularly thrilled at my presence which surprises me because we always got along very well, or so I recall. After prodding her for conversation she seems to loosen up and we carry on a pleasant dialogue exchange. This lady was, and likely is still, super hardcore. She’s pushing seventy years of age and could run circles around most of the co-employees I’ve ever met in my life, at any job. She was a ball of fire, plain and simple and I’ve always admired her work ethic. After a couple of minutes of chit chat I ask her where the KM is. She points to the walk-in cooler and I head over.

I open the door and there is my old buddy from before. We were probably the two cooks who fought through the most horrible shit this place had to offer together. It just blows me away that he’s still here. We shake hands and he’s got this huge grin on his face. He says to me, “No fuckin’ way! I wasn’t actually sure you’d show up.” I laughed and said, “Yeah. I’m still not sure if I will on Thursday.” He got a good chuckle out of that.

We go over some basics and he tells me about how it’s been ever since I left. Not good at all. He’s making me a bit apprehensive but I’m still going to give it a shot and try my best to make it work. He mentioned that over the whole winter up until a couple of weeks ago, he opened, did the prep work, dishes, and cooked all by himself. Fuck that. No way, no how. I don’t care how much money they paid me. It’s like you don’t apply for just being a cook, or prep, or dish anymore. It’s all rolled into one now, which I find unacceptable. I told him that will absolutely not work for me. I have a bad temper these days and a short fuse. I wouldn’t make it long if that was still how the back operated. He told me not to worry as they are staffed with preppers and dishwashers now. Thank God. My glorious return almost ended before it began.

Apparently he’s also been no stranger to quitting. He’s left and came back several times because he said at one point he was ready to start stabbing people. He did construction until a concrete slab crushed his leg and decided to return basically to support his family and he’s been back for roughly sixteen months now.

He’s busy with inventory and a big delivery is due in soon so we keep it short. He gives me my gear and says, “Well, maybe I’ll see you Thursday but I’m sure you won’t show up when you come to your senses.” I reply, “Probably not after all of this sinks in over the next few days.” He bursts out laughing and we part ways. At least we both still have our sense of humors.

What also concerned me was when I walked through, the GM was taking customer orders, cooking all the food, serving the items, and then helping the patrons at the till. He’s doing everything. Jesus, that’s pushing it. I didn’t ask if it was because of lack of employees or just because he wanted to keep labor down. I really didn’t want to know. As far as I was told, I’ll be a lead cook just working my shifts and going home; no extra drama or bullshit, and it better remain true, the no bullshit part at least because the drama is inevitable.

After thinking it over, the stories I was going to write about seem a bit lame. Most likely because it’s been so long and I don’t remember the crisp and specific details as I was able to just a day or two after the happenings with the last restaurant. I’m sure there will be plenty to come, and if not, I’ll try to hammer out a few old tales from memory the best I’m capable.

A note to readers, if there still are any: I’m curious how you would react to anything I have posted thus far over the entirety of the blog? Feel free to comment on any information here or even if some of you have your own personal horror stories. I’d love some more feedback and will reply to any comments, even if you think I’m a douche bag. =) Since I’m unofficially unemployed until Thursday, these next few days will be good ones in another day in the life of a line cook.

From bad to worse.

Well, my employment is officially done at the restaurant now. Ah, it feels good. I have a few days off before I begin my new chapter of food service hell so I’m going to enjoy them to the fullest. It’s been raining here all damn week with no end in sight, so I guess I’ll just have to stock up with some Budweiser and make the most of it. I’m going in tomorrow morning to pick up my new uniforms, yeah that’s plural, I get more than ONE! I can’t believe it! Plus I’m getting a mini tour to help refresh my memory. I just know when I walk into the kitchen all of the years of horrible memories will come rushing back. I’ll probably be depressed after I leave and be asking myself, “What the fuck did you did you do!?” I’ll see I guess.

The last few days at work were basically normal. I had one long shift and two short ones so it could have been worse. Friday I had to work with Epstein all damn day which pushed me to my limits. He’s just so annoying, I wish I would have secretly hid my phone and recorded him so you all could really witness his vastly inferior personality. Then at least everyone would have that “Ah, now I see” moment and you could empathize with me to some degree.

He’s drilling me with questions about why I’m quitting, where I’m going, how much they are paying me, etc. I give him no answers and it gets him so worked up. The best part is when he said, “I’m getting tired with this place too. Are they hiring any more cooks?” I cannot express in text how funny this was to me, so I won’t bother trying. I told him, “Yeah, they are really desperate but only hire good ones, so I wouldn’t bother if I was you.” I started laughing after my statement so I don’t think he even thought I was serious, but I most certainly was. That was a direct and accurate insult you dumb dumb. First thing I do when I arrive tomorrow morning is tell them not to waste their time if he applies because they will be trading down in the roster between him and I. I don’t care how badly they need help; they will no longer have mine should they choose to even consider him, or anyone else from over there for that matter, minus my one buddy.

No one else really said anything related to the job switch except a few of the wait staff. They wished me well and said they’d really miss me. Two of the girls actually gave me a hug. That was really sweet I thought. Rex wouldn’t even look at me the whole weekend. He was forced to interact with me at one point because he needed a side of vegetables rushed and it wasn’t even my department. The other jackasses were choking too badly to do it. That must have took every ounce he had to bring himself to talk to me, idiot. He’s about as bad as a woman (forgive me ladies) when it comes to holding a grudge. Had he only knew what he was walking into, he’d likely not have transferred to this store as this one will eventually give him a nervous breakdown.

The relatively new kitchen supervisor/assistant manager, whatever you want to call him, I just call him stupid, was quite bitter with me on my last days. He told me that he’s not mad that I’m quitting, like I give a fuck, just bummed out that he’ll have to be putting in even more overtime now. That’s part of the management career friend. Good thing you’re going to learn that now than later and I’m so glad I was able to be part of your education. Be prepared to all but live there if you want the “prestige” and added responsibility of being a glorious part of the management club. So he tried to avoid me as much as possible too.

I never got a chance to work with the one I liked. He was pulling shifts at his other job, so I was a bit disappointed. I wanted to give him the opportunity of coming with me, as he talks of leaving all the time too. I guarantee I could get him a job where I’m going, but am not sure I would want to do that to the poor guy because like I said before, he’s cool shit. I’ll just keep it my own personal hell.

So anyways, when the time came to end my shift, I told the assistant KM I was calling it a night. He told me to check with Rex before I left to see if I could leave, yeah right, whatever. I clocked out and quietly slithered out the back door. When the fresh air hit my face, I felt a surge of relief come over me. I had a big smile on my face walking to my vehicle. It was so nice to be done with that nightmare, at least until next week when the new one begins.

About the restaurant I’m going to be working at. It’s just not pleasant. That’s the nicest way I can describe it. On busy days, we used to do two hundred plus customers per hour, yes per hour, and that was only with four cooks, two of which aren’t generally up to par so to speak. Sometimes only two of you have to fight through it if you’re short staffed. It’s tough, but doable if you’re hardcore enough. During the week, you are by yourself and you have to just take it and do the best you can. There’s another guy there but you don’t call for him unless you’re buried because prepping is extremely important. Wish those dicks would have realized that over there rather than just run out of shit every night, but I digress. The line is pretty compact to allow a single, good, cook the task. The mental stress is absolutely unbelievable if you give a shit enough to actually care if you do well, and I most certainly do. It does pay off eventually in terms of wages and perks because they NEED to keep people like that. The turnover rate is astounding.

I’ve seen countless employees completely lose it and walk out. I’ve observed a monster of a cook throw his spat at the wall like a MLB pitcher and bull rush a manager because he snapped after being told his ticket times were taking too long at the end of a dreadful shift. That guy was fucking awesome by the way and we still keep in touch. I’ve had several people tell me the reason they are always late is because they sit out in their car in the parking lot deciding if they want to come in or not. Another guy disappeared and was found in the pantry viciously punching and kicking boxes of product to get his pent up frustrations of the day released. I thought that was fairly amusing. I’ve witnessed many waitresses break down sobbing because it was just too much. That always broke my heart. The place you work at should never break a person down so thoroughly as to make them weep uncontrollably and just want to get out. It shouldn’t make someone violently explode in a fit of rage. I don’t think these people are weak at all; it gets to everyone eventually. Those few instances are just the tip of the iceberg. As I stated before, the mental stress is just so intense and people simply freak out. I’ve worked at a good share of jobs in my time on this planet, though have yet to find one with even remotely the pressure of this place.

I still vividly remember my last day there almost exactly five years ago. It was a Saturday morning during the Fourth of July weekend. We were getting raped per usual as a cook didn’t show. The GM comes back into the kitchen in plain summer clothes and tells us that both dishwashers and the prep cook called in sick. We had five, yes fucking five, buses scheduled in before noon plus there were softball tournaments in town, all with the holiday weekend in full swing. He said, “You guys just do the best you can.”, and fucking left! We were circling the drain when he appeared and now he abandoned us and his restaurant so he could go and enjoy the day!

At that moment, I decided my cooking career was over. The only reason I stayed for the rest of the day is because I wasn’t going to leave my two co-workers to even attempt to do what was coming by their selves. The douche bag of a GM had the nerve to leave multiple messages on my answering machine the next day saying how I was a bad employee and how ashamed he was that a lead cook would do such a thing. Had I been awake rather than passed out from the likely near alcohol poisoning from the night before, I would have loved to take his call. I would have marched right in to give him the opportunity to do it directly to my face, which I know for a fact he would never have. I’m a bad employee for doing such a thing when he just did it the day before. He willingly let his business fail that day without another worry, and I’m the bad employee. Get bent good sir, get bent indeed.

Years have passed and he no longer is the GM. Surprise, surprise. His underling now runs the place and he was always a really cool guy. He joked around and if you were a good employee, he NEVER made you feel like you were anything but an asset and respected member of the team. He let you know he appreciated you. He could have changed over the years though, we’ll see. I’m sure the place drained what was left of his human soul too, and now’s he a corporate drone. Hopefully not and I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, but only time will tell.

Reminiscing about the past has jarred a couple of stories. To avoid any more of a novel, as usual, I will end this here and just put them in the next post. They are about three guys walking out one night, and a cook who went off of his anti-psychotic medicine. The tales aren’t anything special really, though do still have merit of how things went around there. Until then, in another day in the life of a line cook.