New routines at my new job..

…at the one (Irish-y) burger joint in the first floor of a historic hotel:

1) Whenever no-one’s around and I'm dumping drinks into the bar’s sink, I not only set dirty glasses up in the rack there next to the small dishwasher for glassware like we’re supposed to do, but I reach into the sink and collect any straws garnishes etc. to throw out, and I also palm any unsqueezed lemons or limes, then after throwing the other stuff out, I furtively slip them into my back pocket as I walk away, so I can take them home and use the juice for that haircare highlighting thing that I've been doing for years now, where I squeeze the citrus into my hand and rub it in my hair before going outside into the sun.

If no-one's around or looking, I kind of do the same in the dishroom off the kitchen when I return plates with fish sandwiches or the cod platter and people didn’t use their giant lemon wedges.

2) When I get cut at the end of the night but a big basketball game is on TV for the local university, I stay around 4 or 5 minutes to watch, as do like 3-4 other staff people who are on or off shift, in the closing later-night restaurant with a handful of tables still in it.

Dissertation committees.

A bit ago on social media I saw a post from one scholar who I follow there about being on a dissertation committee, and then a few months later I saw another post like that from him again.

And, it made me just so glad that I don’t have to do that.

What a huge time commitment, and besides you have to be involved in recommendation letters, the advisee’s drama around the complete and utter collapse of traditional worthwhile careers paths, etc.

Just better not to be involved.

Events of a day…

…when I go to stay with the one (elderly) aunt of the one (lesbian) sister of my one (former) (assisted living client) with (disabilities), since the aunt had had surgery and needed someone there with her during the day every day for like 2-4 weeks afterwards, and her (lesbian) niece was getting burned out from doing that for so long:

2) My to-do list in the mudroom foyer off the garage include an item “SHRED” since she needed some paper-shredding done, and so I took a pen and drew a “rock on!” hand next to it alongside the words, “Yeah, man!”

2) Two (Latina) cleaning ladies come over and it turns out that one is from (Venezuela) and the other is from (Mexico), and when I remark in (Spanish) that I’m surprised that they’re not (Guatemalan), the latter says something about how there’s already bastantes (“enough”) around here.

3) When the aunt hobbles over to the fridge to get some cream for her coffee and then comes back and starts pouring it out, it like pours out in these great chunks, and I worry that the milk is spoiled until I look closer and I see that it’s a box of whipping cream, since she uses whipping cream in her coffee.

4) Twice I take her dog out to exercise and I keep playing fetch with her where I throw the balls far down the yard for her for her to pick up and bring back, and I do that until she gets so tired that she starts walking back instead of running. And, like at that point she’s so tired, that she forgets to drop the ball from her mouth like she usually does when she brings it back, but instead she just keeps strolling around the yard with it by me, just in a daze from all the exercise that she’s getting.

New approach to jigsaw puzzle donation.

From here on out, I’m going to put every jigsaw puzzle that I’m done with on the library’s “take one, leave one” jigsaw puzzle exchange table, and not take the better ones to the local resale shop.

I had been doing that so they could make some money and so shoppers would find “finds” there, but the last few times that I’ve been through there to donate other non-jigsaw puzzle stuff, I’ve seen pretty much the same jigsaw puzzles just sitting out there on their shelf, including two of the ones that I had singled out to donate there because they seemed better or more interesting than your other, standard jigsaw puzzles.

So, it seems like they’ve been starting to get low turnover there, and maybe also my taste in jigsaw puzzles doesn’t mesh with their shoppers’ tastes, too!

So, to the library they go. 

More tidbits from the new job…

…at the one (Irish-y) burger joint in the first floor of a historic hotel, where I now work:

1) When some customers want to see all the different rooms in the restaurant, I’m showing them around, and then who comes up but another group of customers who I had also offered to show the different rooms to.

“My gosh, this is like [a relatively local historic site of national significance with tightly timed tours on every quarter hour]!”, I was like.

2) Someone wants to know if we salt and pepper the burgers before we grill them, because they don’t want that.

(We do do that, but we don’t for them.)

3) Since the business has been around for over 25 years and moved locations several times, a good number of customers like to say that they’ve been to all 3 locations, or that they remember the first one when we were just half a room and lines were out the door and you’d have to wind around this ramp that went down to the entrance since it was like a half-story basement location set in down beneath ground level, etc.

4) When I am assigned to be “floater” and hustle around all night to prebus, fill waters and get soda refills, take orders at tables where service is delayed, etc., people notice, and coworkers start saying that I am on top of the water, and the (quiet) (introverted) (tatted) (white) manager is like, “Good job tonight,” and I tell her that I’m fine to do that role all the time, just assign me to it if it makes sense for them.

(Pay is the same as a waiter, by the way.)

5) On Valentine’s Day, we have a huge number of cancellations, and someone comments that that’s how people do that around town here, they make multiple reservations and then see where they feel like going that night, and then cancel out on the rest.

6) A(n Iranian?) couple come in and the guy looks strangely like (Bad Bunny), and when I tell him that, he says that he gets that all the time, even before the Super Bowl halftime show, though of course more since then.

7) Milkshakes and readying desserts fall on us, and when I have to prepare a milkshake, I follow instructions that are taped to the side of the fridge by the blender but scoop too much ice cream into it, and I have practically a whole second one left over, so that’s for me to eat, as I discover that all the staff do with milkshake extras, although in this case it was excessive, of course, and I won’t do that again in the future.

New job tidbits..

…from the (Irish-y) burger joint in the first floor of a historic hotel, where I now work:

1) A (late middle-aged) (black) lady has this cute little purse up on her table, and I compliment her on how cute it is.

“You’re the second person to say that today,” she’s like.

“Well, it must be something in the air!”, I was like.

“That’s okay,” she was like, “I’ll take it.”

2) Even though there’s managers on duty, you basically do your job all night and maybe at the end with clean-up and fills they’re like, “Okay, have you started bathrooms yet?”, otherwise it’s like you’re really there with no supervision and you just do what you need to do when you need to do it and everyone trusts you with everything…  

I like jobs like that.

3) When a veggie lasagna order that’s one of the specials comes in like a half hour before close, the one (straggly-bearded) (thin) (white) (stoner) cook with a gravelly voice is like, “Veggie lasagna, now?”, and then is all exasperated and is like, “The person who knows how to plate it is fucking gone!”

A memory of an alleged attempt at human trafficking…

…from a (young) (heavyset) (blonde) artist who lives in the college town that I now live in:

During early high school when her parents' marriage was rough, her mother and her went to New York City for a long weekend for their major yearly vacation and there they stayed at an out-of-the-way hotel, and when they were in the empty restaurant dining room, this (middle-aged) woman was like one of the only other people there, and she ended up joining them and spilling her guts out to them, and when the (artist-to-be) tried acting mature and told her mom that she was going to go outside for a cigarette, her mom was like, “Wait, I’ll go with you,” but this lady laid her hand across her mom’s wrist and forcefully was like, “No, let her go, she’ll be fine,” and so she went out to the drive to smoke, and while she was doing that her mom needed to run up to their room to do something, and as she went past the front desk she told the desk-clerk to keep an eye on her daughter outside for a minute and the guy said that they don’t do that, and as the mom rushed up to the room, she was outside, and this guy had parked a car outside and was calling to the (artist-to-be) and as she came up to him, he grabbed her hair and tried to force her into the back of the car and all the time he was like, “Come on, get in, you called this cab, you’re just drunk!”, and then the mom looked out the window and saw something and ran down, and as she called out to her, the (artist-to-be) was like able to break free and walked to her, it was like a trance but now it had been broken, and the guy hopped in the car and drove off, and the woman from the restaurant was nowhere to be found, and later she realized that even though it seemed like she hadn’t walked that far from the entrance, when her mom called to her, she was like most of the way up the U-shaped drive that led to the front door of the hotel, and she must have walked that far while smoking or while going out to the man while he called to her, he was like practically parked on the street out there that ran in front of the hotel’s drive.

. . .

(She said that she read later that human traffickers always work in twos, and I said that the man’s lines sounded rehearsed like if someone saw them and overhead what he was saying they would just think she was drunk and not try to intervene, and she said that she hadn’t thought of that, though I also said that I thought most human trafficking was like within family units or with vulnerable people and wasn’t like off-the-street abductions or whatever, to which she had nothing to say, in response.)