Friday, June 25, 2010

Conflict of Interest

Tonight I was faced with the most troubling of situations...

Mix one part kitchen virgin and first rush, and one schooled veteran we shall name cork and bottle. I won't explain the nickname because it is rather self explanatory. As any good story, it needs a fufilling preface. Such as follows...

I always show up to work at least a good hour early. (I take the bus, and get bored at my house and feel the need to leave) So, I show up to my salad guy doing prep, after hearing we didn't have any one scheduled to open pizza. Surprised I didn't get called, but it would also explain why my mise was all fucked and out of order.

Our new "prep" guy if you will, good guy, hell a great guy. Doesn't understand the jewish ghetto world in which we live in. So I had to teach him how to use a busted ass slicer. My best advice was "watch you finger placement so you don't loose one. "

I was ok with playing host, bartender, watching him, organizing the walk-in, and working the line when needed, or should I say, as I could. Then the "oh shit, panic" button was pressed.

Here I am, standing between a drunk guy who's twice my age, been cooking as long as I have been alive having 30 minute ticket times. A kitchen virgin who had no clue, is still new to the world asking help. Along with the drunk guy needing help and freaking out, a salad girl who just happened to constantly be in my way and not move fast enough. Here I am. Torn between helping cork and bottle out, and FNG.

After cork and bottle got sent home, I actually had a hostess tell my chef "the people are wowed with how fast pizzas are coming out" Averaging at least 4 tickets at a time my shortest time was 6, my longest 10.

Oh, meanwhile my owner is there the entire time watching this go down. I swear I looked like a chicken missing it's head with sweat instead of blood.

After all of that was over I stopped at my friend's kitchen on the way home for well, more free drinks. Ran into old friends from high school, and a few new people. It was actually proposed to me that I question my owner for a raise. I want one, but I don't. Sure, I deserve it, but do I really want the money when I don't want to stay there?

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