Playing Dad at work

I’m slowly beginning to dislike Wednesdays.  They’re my first day back after two days off, and my day starts at 10:45 and ends about the same time 12 hours later.  And for both shifts I’m expo.

But yesterday may have been the most annoying, until I crossed over and worked the line because we had some big parties.  For a while during the evening service I was dealt the usual barrage of inane bullshit questions.  Like “I have a customer who wants a quiche Lorraine, can we do that?”. 

“No”, with a shake of the head without even looking up was my response.  After dealing with shit like that for an hour or so I was then informed that the bartender had cut herself and was told/requested to go deal with it.  She was in the office and cut herself with a serrated knife.  At first it looked pretty bad, really bad in fact.  But I got her to wash her hand off and as it turned out she cut through two of her fingernails.  No doubt extremely painful, but that’s what nails are for.  I made her sit down in the office so she wouldn’t pass out while I wrapped her fingers in bandaids and then gave her some finger cots for the rest of her shift (from my own supply since the restaurant I work at doesn’t have a first-aid kit – what the fuck is that by the way?)

After dealing with the bartender’s fingers, we fortunately got busy enough that I had to jump over and assist on the line.  Thank god, I was so sick of hearing my own name at this point and was all too happy just to work the line.  So that’s what I did for a while, until it died down some and then I was fortunate enough to place orders and do some adminstrative stuff so that I didn’t have to stand around and handle bullshit questions.

And now I’m gearing up to expo tomorrow night, only this time we have a full line and there’s no way out of it.

Time change

Parents and pet owners are all aware of this, but the time change is really not much fun, especially with a 3 month old, a dog and a cat.

This morning all three were up and at ‘em at about 4 in the morning, each looking for their breakfast.  Erin was so tired that she buried her head under a pillow, which left me to deal with it all.  

The animals dealt with things far better than Nate, who was having none of this “I’m so tired, just wait one more hour”.  He wanted to be fed, now.  So I fed him while the animals looked on at the injustice of it all, no doubt wondering “Where the fuck is mine, asshole?”.  And then he spit up all over my shirt before going back to sleep.  Nothing says “Thanks Dad” like fresh spit up.

Everyone survived the morning however, though I can’t say I’m looking forward to tomorrow morning.

An interesting scenario

I just read this article in the Chicago Tribune about a guy who (2 years ago) was given the wrong sandwich by Jimmy John’s and went into anaphylactic shock.

The article fails to point out whether or not they customer informed Jimmy John’s of his allergies – a crucial piece of information.  If he did inform them then clearly they were neglectful and should cover the his medical expenses, to say the least.

However I’m of the mindset that if he didn’t inform them of  clearly a very serious food allergy and stupidly put a sandwich into his mouth without examination, then he’s at fault and no payment should be made.

I work at a restaurant that each day has at least one customer with a food allergy walk through the door that we’re made aware of.  Once we’re made aware of an allergy, clearly the onus is on us to not send the customer to the hospital, even if that means that there are only a handful of menu options available.

In this case I tend to think that the customer is at fault for not notifying the restaurant of his allergy.  At most he should get a refund for having the wrong sandwich delivered.

Breakage

The funniest thing I’ve seen in a while is a sign at work informing the front of the house staff that if they break it, they buy it (when it comes to wine glasses).

The restaurant has been open for just about a year now, and they break on average 3 wine glasses a day – that’s nearly 1100 wine glasses that have been broken.  One of the main culprits is one of the back waits who has been known on more than one occasion to wipe out 10 or 20 at a time.  The guy may as well take out a loan if he wants to continue working there.

And you know what?  The new policy is working.  I’ve worked three nights in a row now and not one glass has been broken.

Today’s Thursday

Which means I get to do paperwork when I get to work.  Specifically, I get to enter all the invoice totals into a spreadsheet along with the revenue from food sales and calculate our food cost percentage for the past week. 

It’s actually pretty easy, until people who belong in a big corporation get their hands on the process.  Last week the accountant complained that I wasn’t writing the totals on the top of invoices as well as not stapling each companies invoices together.  Oh the horror!  It struck of not including a cover sheet on my TPS report, and it really reminded me of one of the reasons I left the corporate world – because it’s full of people who have too much time on their hands and create processes that are nothing more than a bunch of bullshit and justifications for their job.

I’m not even sure why I’m calculating the food cost percent since we have an accountant.  When I told her that the totals were in the spreadsheet and that it seemed redundant (to say the least) to write the totals on the top of the paper (especially when they appear at the bottom of the page), her only defense was that the spreadsheet had a different purpose.  Whatever you fucking cow.  Her attitdue was one of “You’re just a stupid cook, what do you know”, so I just let it drop.

I threatened to write everything in the Zodiac killer’s code, and if this woman keeps acting the bitch, that’s just what she’s going to get.

I want to post. . .

but cut a finger the other day (at home) and it’s too slow to type, so I’ll wait for it to heal before I do.  Don’t worry about my finger, it’ll be fine, it just hurts to touch anything.

I’ll leave you with this though preview of my next post though – accountants can suck my cock.

Mmmm, homemade bacon good

That’s it, that’s all I’ve got to say right now.

Guess the atheist

Since I have atheism listed as a descriptor, I figured I should write something about it (not that my atheism really defines me in any particular way).

At any rate, here’s a fun little quiz where you can try to guess (with hints) the famous atheists.  Some were pretty easy and others were just plain interesting.

One notable omission is Ayn Rand, especially considering that Atlas Shrugged alone has sold more than 300,000 copies this year, remarkable for a book that’s approaching it’s 60th anniversary.

Charcuterie at home

Duck breast proscuitto

 

Homemade bacon - applewood smoked

Will they or won’t they?

Saturday the US plays a qualifier against Honduras (in Honduras).  A win would mean qualification for South Africa, a loss (or draw) would make their last game a must win (next week) against Costa Rica, a team that sits on the cusp of qualification.  Please, oh please win this game.  It’s sad that we haven’t already qualified (but hey, we’re in 1st place).

In restaurant news, I got to cook and plate a bunch of shit yesterday that was photographed to be in a magazine – sure, it’s a bridal magazine, but I’ll take it.  I have no idea as to which magazine, but if I find out I’ll let everyone know.  The shoot took place in the afternoon just after lunch, and I just made it all myself so that I knew it was pretty.

Tomorrow I get to work a lunch shift on the line for the first time.  Easily the most annoying thing about being a sous chef is covering other people’s shifts, though I can’t complain too much about this one because it’s getting me out early (as in hopefully when it’s still daylight) on a Friday.  With any luck I’ll be the one to pick Nate of from daycare, which would be pretty awesome.  Plus we have a friend visiting this weekend and it would be nice to see her.

At home my bacon and duck breast continue to cure nicely.  The pork belly has taken on a nice bacony hue, which is encouraging.

That is all.