This was my night:
6:00-8:30pm: constant traffic, and terrible tips. tables with multiple meals. smiling and taking orders and hoping like hell that the new cook could keep up.
8:30pm: make dinner before the grill is turned off – turkey, provolone, tomato, vidalia onion sauce in a warmed-up wrap with peach salsa and chips. set aside because we have another rush.
8:45pm: decide to put food in the microwave to keep warm as eating will be a long time off. new cook is cleaning the grill. new cook has liberally doused my sandwich, salsa, and chips with nasty black grill water. throw away dinner.
9:30pm: finally get another break, make another sandwich (in the micro), read for a few minutes. finish a chapter, not the book.
10:30pm: clean the bathrooms. both toilets are backed up. finish the women’s bathroom and try to start on the men’s, but a line forms and i abandon the grossness for a bit.
11:00pm: finally get back to the men’s room, and the urinal hasn’t been flushed. i don’t know how men are so gross. gross gross gross. fix toilet number two, and officially declare myself off bathroom duty for the duration of the week.
11:30pm: lock up the patio furniture and check the trashes. back trash is half full of water, meaning half full of a watery sludge of cigarettes, food, drinks, dirt, etc. manage to dump at least half a cup of this mixture on my feet and legs and hands.
11:45pm: bring in front patio furniture. soak front of pants in some unidentified liquid.
11:50pm: prep mop. leave sticky line of mop bucket soap on my pants. these pants are having a really bad night.
12:15pm: mop the entire place. manage to NOT dump mop liquid on self (quite unusual for me), but soak my foot with hot water while rinsing out the mop bucket.
12:30pm: third trip to the trash. declare that the fragile trash bags aren’t a worry at this point because i don’t have the knock box bag.
total evening gross out factor: very high. all that was missing was vomit and blood-borne pathogens. and what got me through the night was the hope of talking to shawn when i got home – or maybe just an email. but i got nothing, and now i’m going to bed disappointed AND grossed out.
This was my night: