Work was a circus tonight. Or last night. Mind you, it's almost six in the morning and I got off at midnight. I've decided not to go to bed because if I do, I won't wake up until it's time to go back to the restaurant. This way I can enjoy sunrise, cook breakfast, and handle a few things I've been meaning to do. All of the idiots came out tonight. Here are a few select stories.
1. We have two counters at work that have deep tanks for ice. We fill the counters with ice and then lay fresh seafood on top of that. One counter has crawfish on ice, the other has shrimp. About an hour before we close, we put the shrimp in a large bowl and move it to the counter with the crawfish, and then clean the shrimp counter and prepare it for the next shift to put out breakfast. As I was leaning over the crawfish counter, a woman asked me to pile some of the crawfish on her plate because I had gloves on and it was quicker than grabbing them herself with the tongs. I obliged and she went on her way.
About five minutes later she came back, the mountain of crawfish and ice still on her plate. She stuck the plate in my face and said, "SIR. THESE CRAWFISH GOT COLD." "Yes ma'am, I think that's from being on ice all night." Fuck!
2. A woman came up to me and asked where we kept the bread. I told her it was at the other end of the counter. She walked to the other end, past the bread, and asked another worker nearby. He pointed to it and she walked over. She looked at an empty tray sitting beside the breadbasket and eventually noticed the nearby dinner rolls. Somehow the rolls didn't register, so she had to ask the other man, "IS THIS THE BREAD?" He didn't hear her. "IS THIS THE BREAD? SIR? IS THIS YOUR BREAD? SIR? IS THIS IT?" Yes, that's fucking bread. If you can't recognize it upon first glance, you shouldn't be eating it. There's too much of a risk that you'll choke yourself to death when you forget how to chew.
3. I was working the pan roast area, cooking soup and boiling shrimp. The shrimp are a bit spicy so when every other person comes up and asks me if they're hot, I automatically assume they mean spicy. Somehow tonight, everyone that asked me if they were hot actually meant temperature-wise. I figured the steam and boiling water was very conspicuous but apparently I was wrong.
4. There's some Swiss guy that comes from the piece of shit casino next door almost every night to eat. He's usually a bit too friendly, hanging out at the counter telling jokes nobody can understand and laughing way too loud. I don't mind really. Tonight though, he was in a terrible mood. He came up to my counter and started yelling to me about how we weren't grilling steaks. I told him we never grill them on the weekends because we serve prime rib. Then he told me we were out of crab legs. I looked back and pointed at the mound of legs on the crab counter. He acknowledged them but said they were all crap. Then he looked at my four pots of soup and complained that I didn't even have any soup made, although all four were definitely full. He came back about fifteen minutes later and bitched again about me still not having soup, although again, all four pots were full. One of the other ladies tried to tell him to come get some soup, but he stormed off in a rather hilarious Swiss rage that I can't really put to text. Another fifteen minutes went by, and he came back. This time he walked up to the counter and actually looked in the pots. Unfortunately the fucking idiot waited too long, and we had just finished cleaning out our pots for the night. Ha.