The Last Few Days.

THE WAY I SEE IT

The last few days have been a little bit up and a little bit down, and just like Robin Hood said, sometimes the ups out number the downs, but not in Nottingham.  (or Kingston)

 Well last week I applied for a job working in the kitchen of a pretty well know  restaraunt.  I had seen this advertised three times before.  Once I rang and told the guy about my experience and stuff, and he said he'd be getting back to me.  Well he FORGOT TO.  So the next time I saw it (which may I say was the following week) I thought i'd try again.  This time he rang me back.  We set an evening when I would go in and have a trial.  It was three days (nights) later.

I turn up and am feeling a little nervous, as you do, trying out for a new job.

I was told the first thing I would be doing if I am the lucky winner, was cleaning the toilets and vaccuming the dining room and bar areas, and washing said floors.  Ok.  I'm shown the vaccume cleaner.  Never seen one like it before.  I'm to carry it on my back.  The guy who works behind the bar has to help me put it on.  I thought it was a funny situation, but he obviously didn't.  I go into the loos and do them.  That done, I move to the dining rom.
Now I don't know if any ones ever seen a bull in a china shop, but that's how I felt.  All the tables are set for the evening meal.  Lovely glasses all set out.  Therein lies my dilemma.  With this contraption on my back, I was finding it difficult to get into the areas which need vacuuming.  Everytime I turned around I had to place my hand on the back of the machine to know where it was headed.  Would be just great if I managed to clear any of the tables of their beautiful glass wear before they had even been used. Fun times.  (And i'd have to clean that mess up as well.)
That finally done, without I'm pleased to report, any breakages, I headed into the kitchen to begin the next stage of my initiation.
The first thing I see is the humungous pile of dirty dishes.  They were obviously not cleaned from lunch, or as I thought whilst cleaning them, a week ago.  Stuff was soooo stuck on I had to scrub them with the steel thingo and even then some things had to be soaked.  No kidding,  the bench was so loaded up, I wondered if I would ever finish this lot before that evenings dishes would begin.  The tap which had only hot water, was a bit wobbly, but I pressed on regardless.  Not knowing where things went, I had to keep asking the chefs.  I began to remember, when I was putting a large plate where I was told to, and the other chef told me it went somewhere else.  Ok, I'm here trying to get a job, so who am I to say, No It Doesn't Go There.  As I was about to put it where is wasn't supposed to go, the nice guy said "that goes under the bench"  I looked at the other guy and gave him a look as if to say, "you are a JERK"  He obviously felt an affinity with me. NOT!  As I was taking stuff out of the dishwasher I would put them on the bench to air dry, as I was told to do, when JERK comes over with an armfull of dirty bowels, and pans, and has the gall to say "Keep this bench clean" And proceeds to stick all this dirty crap on the bench.  At that moment I decided I wouldn't work in the same kitchen with him no matter how much the pay was.
I continued working flat out, and finally finished.  
My next task was to peel potatoes.  Now that sounds ok right?  I was given a 44 gallon drum to fill with spuds, which I had to peel. (Actually  no, but it was a huge bucket full.) Now I suffer from Carpal Tunnel, so I knew this would be fun. Stupid job to apply for you say?  Well probably, but it was evenings and suited me.  Anyway I peeled the spuds and had to fill the bucket with hot water, and as I did the tap got wobblier.  I noticed a small puddle of water gathering on the floor.  I mentioned this the Jerk and Mr nice, and Mr Nice said, it was the connection to the dish washer, so I thought ok, even though I knew otherwise.  I did the spuds, and was told that was it for the night, meanwhile the small puddle was now a huge one.  Mr Jerk asked me to carry the bucket over to the fridge and put it inside.  As I began walking, I realised it weighed a ton.  Mr Nice suddenly appeared and took it off me and put it away. I put a cloth on the floor to mop  up the puddle, and was ready to go.  I said seeya and was thanked by Mr Nice and the bar man, but Mr Jerk said not a thing, so I turned and said "You are an arrogant pig" and left.  He has an ego of huge proportions, and all he does is cook for goodness sake.  As I left I hoped Mr Nice wouldn't be too cheesed off about the tap, but at least I did try to tell him.  I hoped the position would go to someone else.  For once in my life my hope was granted.  So we will see how long it is before the ad is back in the paper.  The thing is though, you never never know, if you never never go.       More from the wonderful world of ME next time.  See Ya.