|
pete
|
ive worked 13 of the last 14 days, if you count tomorrow's shift. that is roughly 120 hours. i've slept less than i've worked. i've been home almost as much as i've been at work. my only encounters with real people have been borderline hostile, excepting my coworkers. i asked my boss to pay me a cooks pay instead of a dishwasher's pay today and he said "not yet, we'll see if there's any improvement" ... my response "that's fair" my thought "what the fuck? i've worked with you once in the last three weeks since my promotion and, regardless, i've been here more than the sous chef (ie second in charge) and i've ruined less prep than either the sous chef or my partner (there was three of us, but one quit without notice). for fucks sake pay me for the work i'm doing." it took a good hour and a half for that bitterness to wear off. afterwards the sous chef begain giving me advice. she's been cooking since almost before i was borned. i take it all in stride, repeating it as i do whatever the advice is for, offending my partner who went to cooking school and thinks i'm lecturing her... i'm glad the sous chef showed me new plating styles. they both looked better and took less time. i was unofficially closed from 10.30 to 11.45 when the manger told me i could either "busy myself" or have a drink on the house (after signing out) and wait for the last desert order... i had the drink and left after the server told me he wasnt even going to offer them deserts. i took the bus home, read a bit more of dune:house atredies (the first prequel based on frank herbert's notes written by his son, brian herbert, and the brilliant kevin j. anderson). now i'm sitting here, listening to internet radio, on edge... i enjoy work to much to be angry there.. its too dangerous to be angry there... and its not exactly anger, but edginess... i need a vacation (prepromotion i was nerely full time work and school for two months)... i need to leave this city... and i need to breathe
|
050530
|
