I recently got fired. Oh yeah, that happened. Even though I was one of the awesomest, hardest working, loyalest little lackeys (it’s not -ies, I spell checked it) any business owner could hope to have at the end of their puppet strings, by the end I just wasn’t good enough anymore. I could be bitter and rant on and on about the Douchey McDouche that’s ruining my former employ from the inside out, or the sexist, egotistical, harassing, wannabe Uncle Jessie leader behind it all who thinks the only two options for communicating with his primarily female staff is either calling them idiots or trying to get into their pants. But I won’t. I’m bigger than that and better than them.
So I’ve been looking for employment elsewhere. In the city, of course (in my neck of the north-of-the-city “woods” – I live in the ‘burbs, but it ain’t exactly high class – you’re lucky to get a “thank you” for a beer, let alone a dollar). I’m still trying to find a “real” job, a career, if you will, but that market is frightening and I am less-than qualified to do much of anything (unless there’s a new market for cute girls who like to eat, read and watch TV. The competition would be brutal, for real).
I would ideally like to bartend, even though my area of expertise is serving. So I’ve looked into a major hotel company, major local restaurant chain, some quirky places I’d never heard of but seem fun… My standards are high at the moment (it has only been a week), but soon I’ll have to loosen them and take what I can get. Fingers crossed…
Okay, I am the WORST at posting! This post was started a FULL WEEK AGO! And today, I AM employed! I walked into one of the afore mentioned awesomely successful restaurants a mere two days after my dismissal and interviewed on the spot (suck it, old job). I got a call a week later, and I’m now on my third training day (of 15. They actually want their staff to know what’s what. Nice business strategy, yo).
I’m only training, and it’s only been two days, but already I really think I’m going to like it. The people seem to be nice and professional, they seem to know what the hell is going on (what a refreshing change of pace). The way this place works is you spend a week in the kitchen, then two weeks on the floor in a variety of capacities. And let me tell you about this week in the kitchen – meat, fish, saute and grill, garde manger (salads, etc.) and expo. You may be wondering if I get to try the food – a logical question when you work in a high-end restaurant. You gotta know what the $40 steak you’re slinging tastes like, right? Ab. So. Lute. Ly. Oh hell yes.
Filet? Why yes, I love it. Pork chop? Big fan. Strip or ribeye? Never had ribeye, I’ll have 18 ounces to “taste,” sure. Lamb? No, but I’ll pretend to eat it so neither of us gets into trouble. Salmon, tuna, shrimp scampi, fried shrimp, Alaskan king crab leg for night two? I would expect nothing less. Seriously, it’s a good thing I’ve got a gym and Michael Jackson Dance Experience on hand. Even more seriously, I can tell you how everything is prepared, what’s in what sauce, how allergies are handled, (kitchen) staff names… It’s glorious.
The ONLY real downside… it’s a 30+ minute drive. Each way. I used to live above my job, then moved three minutes away, so this is a little tough to handle. The first 15 minutes in the car are fine, spending time with myself, going over last night’s new knowledge, day dreaming about Aaron Rodgers (who am I kidding, I don’t need car time for that). Then another five minutes passes. Then another. Damnit. I’ve been repeating that. A lot.
But onto bigger and better things. My quest for real work hasn’t ended, although this makes the searching part a little laxadaised. I’ll get there. We all will. One thing at a time. One meal at a time. I wonder what my feast will be tonight…