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So, I think I was born to work on a food truck. After years of sweating it out in line jobs, prep jobs, and a banquet/line/prep job that got me hooked on amphetamines for a few years (I'm off and have the weight gain to prove it), I'm making authentic Mexican food with a highly-motivated accomplice. The truck is owned by a savvy businessman who demands nothing but high quality food and at least some kind of profit from his businesses, and my buddy has the work ethic of a Wehrmacht artillery horse. Instead of throwing together hotel gruel for alumni and basketball teams, I'm bouncing ideas off of another cook, making great food from scratch, and serving it outdoors to all kinds of different people. I'm finding that I enjoy selling our food almost as much as making it. Coaxing a gringo into trying their first tamal, then having them immediately buy ten more to take home is so much more rewarding than getting tickets full of snowflake alterations to carefully-devised specials at restaurant jobs. It's tiring, though. We work on the second floor of a bakery, so the kitchen gets about as hot as the shady side of Rigel when I'm dry-roasting tomatillos, and getting people straight-up calling us idiots for not serving crunchy beef wrap supremes gets me pretty twitchy, but it's all worth it when I can for once express to the customer just how much love and effort I put into the food, and having their eyes light up with the same enthusiasm. I realize that serving is not an ideal job; You'd probably see me on the news running around butt-naked with a machete after a few weeks of that. But man, being able to tell the customer straight to their face each little process and ingredient, and oh man trust me, it's great has undone years of stress from "the customer sent this back. They didn't want it." "Well is it something I can fi- hey, get back here." Sorry to sound like kind of a doofus, but man, it's nice to be happy and working in a kitchen for once in my life. I've been doing this since I was 16, and it's just the first time I've ever felt optimistic about career prospects. EDIT: Also, sorry Turkey, for not PMing you. We actually had a long talk about over-producing the other day, and he finally agreed with me. Today, we managed to sell out of everything at just the right moments, with just a few containers of rice and some jamaica left in a pitcher. It was nice to see him go from his lately-sleep-deprived mopiness to straight-up jubilant after we unloaded nothing but dirty dishes from the truck, and only having sent away two customers who were dead-set on having tacos. Plan Z fucked around with this message at 03:53 on Jul 21, 2013 |
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Jul 21, 2013 03:49
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SilvergunSuperman posted:my favourite was asking the kids who had their first taste of the restaurant industry as 13-14 year old dishwashers (in a really panicked voice) to rush out to the bar to retrieve the "banana peeler" during a rush. I always did the "corkscrew sharpener." It's a bit more well-known of a prank, so you can sometimes get the kid passed along a lot. I think we set the record one time with one dishwasher. He asked our sister restaurant upstairs, who sent him to another and eventually another. It worked to the point where he was about two blocks down at a Chilis before he gave up. He got a free meal and we helped him finish out his dishes, because he seemed genuinely frazzled by the whole thing. He turned out to be a pretty good line cook when he got bumped up.
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Jul 21, 2013 04:43
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Turkeybone posted:You can tell the kitchen folk at school because they say "Corner!" around the blind corners in the buildings. I say "heard" all of the time when given commands in World of Tanks. One clan member said it was like watching Hell's Kitchen.
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Jul 22, 2013 02:23
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Turkeybone posted:Fun cuts more me include star tips and ice. Like.. ice. I think I've nicked myself on blades about twice ever in kitchens. I do, however constantly cut myself in ice machines, on frost inside freezers, and by sliding around tongs like a pro (you know, the edges on the inside).
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Jul 25, 2013 05:19
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bowmore posted:Who listens to music in the kitchen? How do you do it? (iphone, stereo, etc) What get's you moving? 1st restaurant job: I started working with a cool sort of biker-punk guy there who shared my tastes, so pretty much a mixture of new and old punk. Andrew Jackson Jihad and Mischief Brew for prep shifts, Dead Kennedys and Motorhead-style stuff for line crushes. There was that one shift where we all got high and listened to the Randy Savage rap album on repeat for about 3 straight hours. Hotel job: The kitchen was in the basement, so we would only ever pick up loving 93.7 THE BUS, the most legendarily bad radio station in this area. They play pretty much the same top 100 classic rock hits in random order, not caring about repeats. I preferred to work my breakfast shifts in amphetine-addled silence because I needed to consantly be talking with DRAs and servers to get all of the food out. If I lucked out and got a garde manger shift, I'd listen to old early '90s rock and grunge bands with the one manager. The Pixies fit that task perfectly. Current job: My buddy's a music geek for funky stuff, so he's always bringing in some cool funk/jazz/experimental stuff that is good instead of completely loving irritating like most modern jazz (for the record, I love jazz, but I legitimately refuse to refer to SQUIDDLY-HONK-SQUEE experimental jazz as "music"). When I get radio control, I'll usually throw on some of my poppier stuff to appeal to him, like Cake, The Arrivals, or Leatherface.
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Jul 28, 2013 20:51
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Dimloep posted:Customers yelling? Jeezy Creezy, I thought my place was bad... I remember that a customer at one place I worked called the black female server a "dumb negress" because he just goddamned knew that medium-well wasn't supposed to have that little sliver of pink in it. She spent the rest of the night crying because the manager tried to make her apologize to the gentleman without knowing what actually happened first. This is why in order to work FoH, I would need one of those little Hannibal Lecter masks. On a separate note, gently caress every medium-well eater. I can understand how some doobers love eating burnt, flavorless meat, but I really can't even think of why someone would demand medium-well. And they are never happy with how it turns out. If I cook it perfectly medium-well, with that little pink sliver in there, then it's too raw for them. If I don't do the sliver, then it's over-cooked. When I get mid-well orders in, I just let that fucker go on the cooler part of the grill until it's well-done, so it's at least a juicy well-done. I remember with fondness the one place at work where the FoH manager actually had pamphlets printed out to show the customers when they got riled up over meat temps to prove them wrong. That guy was seriously awesome at his job (not really for the pamphlets, but with how well he whipped that circus into shape).
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Jul 29, 2013 04:02
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Yeah, I have no sympathy for the people online who do the whole "retail work is hell!" routine. I did retail for a long time, and heaches come frmo people who just want to get through the line, or occasionally ask a dumb question or two. One woman I worked with called customers rude assholes because they didn't want to get dragged into a long conversation about how funny Betty White is when they're pulling their kids through checkout. In the restaurant industry, the customers can spout disgusting, hateful bullshit and still be referred to as "sir" and apologized to for the inconvenience. I seriously wonder where the sense of entitlement to be a total shithead or refuse tips comes from for these people. Forced to wait in line for 20 minutes to buy over-priced clothing or video games for hundreds of dollars? Perfectly fine. Waitress informing you that your $6 burger is dry because you insisted it not be sent out until you spent another 20 minutes eating your salad? "STUPIDBITCHGODDAMN Honey get your coat, I'm gonna get on Angie's List and tear these people a new rear end in a top hat!"
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Jul 29, 2013 04:57
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Keep in mind, if your co-worker is working slowly or not in a good mood, they may have been yelled at, or are working as much/even more than you. It'll eventually pile up and result in some really serious conflicts that can result in people quitting just because people can't mind their own business (not to indict you or anything). Imagine being someone just trying to get their job done, and having an antsy ball of stress not be able to walk past anyone without commenting or blowing up. I've seen really good kitchens collapse after enough of that. Essentially, if things are getting done on time, and materials aren't being wasted or misused, let it go.
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Aug 22, 2013 04:29
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Tweek posted:You know how most cooks end up addicted to amphetamines and/or high at work? Guess which one of those I did for a year and a half. Ugh, I am trash. I tried telling it to some culinary school parsley-sprinkler, and he didn't understand. He ended up taking the job I had quit and had some kind of breakdown two months in. The sous chef at that hotel told me he's going back to PSU for business or something. Seriously, though, you can't be the "I'm sorry, I'm just OCD!" people at work. It'll end up in either a fight, or some people quitting, and I've seen both. Most of the time, it's that one loving guy or chick who just can't walk past you without telling you that you should probably keep an eye on the oven because ovens get hot and these ones are hot in different areas for the FOURTEENTH loving TIME I'VE NEVER BURNED ANYTHING IN THE TWO YEARS I'VE WORKED HERE GOD drat. Because it usually ends up with the stressed-out person losing it when "Lol OCD" person just happens to walk by without planning to critique that one time, and it's just a mess. Like I said, if the person is wasting or misusing materials, slowing down production, or negatively affecting output or other peoples' jobs, call them out. If everything's fine, but they're not doing something exactly how you would do it, then just chew on your tongue and worry about your own job.
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Aug 23, 2013 04:14
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BlueGrot posted:Are people seriously doing coke to cope with work? I was doing amphetamines just to get through the day. I'd have to be in at 5:00 a.m., get changed, get to the keys (about a half-mile total walk through the corridors) open the whole hotel kitchen, unlock all of the walk-ins, turn on all of the machines (all pilot lights out, even though I begged every day for them to not turn them off), get all of my buffet mis in the ovens (for up to 800 people by myself), assemble conference room party stuff, and get all of my rounds/hotels/chafers ready. Meanwhile, I needed to get my sauces (hollandaise, etc.) ready and heated, and cook of grits/oatmeal/whatever else was needed for the dining room and conference rooms. I had a poo poo flat top on which to do buffet pans full of eggs, one at a time. Needed to get all of these eggs, bacon, sausage (the fat little Hatfield ones), specials, hash browns, oatmeal/grits, etc. meals together, and assembled into hot boxes for wherever they were needed by 6:45 (the dining room/room service opening times). Starting at 6:45, I started getting room service and dining a la carte meals, while refilling the buffet when needed. I'd have a line of tickets, with a window full of food (servers whining that the over-easy eggs that they left in the window for 15 minutes are too dry and it's my fault) until about 11::00. Somewhere in all of this, I had to figure out two lunch specials for that inevitable rush, meanwhile breaking down all of my buffets and parties into lunch-room gruel and setting up all of the mis and sauces for the lunch line. The sous chef was supposed to handle all of the lunch stuff, but he loving didn't want to do anything but yoga and read naturalnews horseshit in his office. If he came out, and I was getting pounded, he'd stand there passive-aggressively, not doing any of the lunch prep that he was supposed to be doing. Oh hey, and the night guys didn't refill any of the loving god-damned lunch mis they were supposed to have done. Have I mentioned it's around noon, I've been here 7 hours, and haven't started my prep for the massive breakfasts and brunch and parties the next day? Good, cause the lunch rush has started, I'm working that alone, and the sous chef has gone back to his office to read dailykos articles out loud to the receiving manager. Lunch rush is over, the night guys have showed up at 2am, yelling at me for not having the line in perfect order (all 3 of them to handle about 80 a la carte meals), and no back-ups (but full pans). By that time, I'd been there for about 9 hours, and haven't started my prep for the next day at all, nor picked my specials for it. I usually didn't get to leave until 5 or 6 at night. I got paid $8/hr. for that, until I asked for a raise, and they gave me $9.75, which made me realize I was getting shafted hard. I was being led to believe that I would be getting a full-time opening into a cush job elsewhere in the kitchen, but they ended up giving it to some union dishwasher with no experience, who quit over "job description" bullshit later after I quit. TL;DR: I haven't vented honestly about this job, and my subsequent withdrawal-fueled rage quit about it anywhere. Whatever you want to make of it, go ahead. Plan Z fucked around with this message at 03:02 on Aug 24, 2013 |
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Aug 24, 2013 03:00
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Splizwarf posted:"Sous chef's office" is a strange and novel word salad that makes me vaguely unhappy. You passed the test. It was basically a closet in which he could do dishwasher scheduling and presumably whack off to internet articles about vaccines. Have I painted a complete character picture yet? Plan Z fucked around with this message at 03:47 on Aug 24, 2013 |
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Aug 24, 2013 03:44
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Willie Tomg posted:Every Moment We Live is Agony would be the best name for a breakout post-punk band. I can play one bass chord every four seconds, lets get two other food service goons who can do the same and we'll leave this life of luxury, cut a record, become the darlings of Pitchfork Media and go on tour. Ugggggggh, reminding me of the times we trusted college freshmen/sophomores with the radios at work ("You like punk? Ever heard of a band called Sublime?"). I like how we got 16 seconds into one guy's Dark Side of the Moon before another cook ripped it out of the player. Sorry, no mood music at work. Also, I will play back-up bass where I just play one harmonic note in the beginning, then spend the rest of the song pressing my strings against the pickups.
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Aug 25, 2013 02:30
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Manuel Calavera posted:That sucks Tell him not to hire Goons, then.
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Aug 27, 2013 04:55
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The guy who owns the local bakery has this awesome "fermented bread glycemic index" speech ready for anyone who goes up to him asking for gluten-free stuff, and it catches them off-guard since none of them could actually tell you what gluten is, what it's found in, or why it's bad for them. I'm glad I'm cooking Mexican food right now, and can throw people off with "It's not in anything we make at all" or get gems from glutards talking about how they read an article that said corn was almost as high in gluten as wheat. I don't want to be insensitive to people with genuine gluten problems. I'm more than happy to help out with someone who has an actual allergy, but I'm not going to listen to long loving diatribes about how you've "just felt better" since you quit gluten, and that I should really cater to gluten-free since that's where the money is. Vegetarians are becoming a new nightmare, though, for so many reasons. I personally prefer vegans, as they're usually really grateful when you make them good food, and aren't very picky as long as it's within the basic vegan parameters. Plan Z fucked around with this message at 04:50 on Oct 8, 2013 |
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Oct 8, 2013 04:42
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It's low in gluten, but not gluten free, and it produces excellent bread, so it works out. It's common for bakeries in Europe, but still not all that common in the US.
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Oct 8, 2013 23:52
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I haven't seen any good resources online. I'll get some book names for you when I go back to the kitchen in a few days. The head baker is more than happy enough to share the information most of the time. He's a hell of a great guy, and this a massive depository of food knowledge.
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Oct 9, 2013 03:33
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Man, do any of you guys get the as much of the "haha sure hope they don't spit in my food," water-testing as I do? I have worked with angry crackheads before, but never once have I seen someone spit in food. The only times I've seen it have been those famous pictures crappy chain and fast food restaurants where the "cooks" are basically just microwave technicians.
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Oct 9, 2013 19:58
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No Wave posted:Spit, no. Sweat, yeah, but that's got more to do with caring too much rather than too little. I had to constantly badger my buddy to start wearing gloves at one job, because he would just get flop sweat on everything. His doughs would glisten in it, and I risked our friendship by yelling at him when our boss complained the cookie dough tasted "salty" one time.
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Oct 10, 2013 04:45
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I'm so loving tired. I'm 25, and I can't even close my hands all the way. I've been doing this since I was 16. I haven't left this state since I was 18, and I've only gotten one Christmas off since then, as well. It's rewarding to have a skill, but I can't keep this poo poo up, and I'm scared that if this food truck doesn't take off, I'm going to be one of these half-crazy middle-aged guys who dies at his prep table after calling a server a dumb bitch because she doesn't know what vinegar goes on the spinach salad. It's doing well, but the guys like that whom I've met are basically what gets my rear end up after 4 hours of sleep.
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Oct 28, 2013 02:49
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The food truck's done for the season now, and we somehow posted great profits trying to serve authentic Mexican food in rural PA. It's a boost, but now I have to find an off-season job. I'm thinking of either hitting up a temp agency, or just taking a season off with some old inheritance money I kept stashed away.
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Oct 31, 2013 02:33
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The Midniter posted:I'd recommend trying to find something. Better to have that old inheritance money when you need it, than spend it for no good reason. I know I shouldn't. I've just been working in kitchens continually since I was 16 to help pay for some of dad's medical bills. The only vacation or time I've spent off for more than 3 days in a row was when I was unemployed for two weeks following a detox-induced walkout of one job. I'm only talking like a short trip using like, some of a $5,000 inheritance in a Money Market.
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Nov 4, 2013 20:28
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I can't wait for this fad to be over with.
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Nov 8, 2013 09:38
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And people wonder why I don't wear clogs. That, and Skechers are ridiculous comfy.
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Feb 2, 2014 04:44
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Liquid Communism posted:Yeah, two weeks ago. Went from the only overnight baker they've ever kept more than six months to 'your last night's tonight, give us your keys and gas card'. Give two weeks, expect none of it, and check your local labor laws on when they're required to give you your last paycheck. A quiet inquiry about the company policy on paying unused PTO is a good idea before giving notice as well. I hit this. I had a breakfast job at a large hotel where I was taking amphetamines just to keep up with it. Apparently, they've got 3 people doing what I did now, and they're constantly having people quit. Before that, another restaurant, I and about five other guys quit because although everyone loved the chef, he wasn't worth us working ridiculous hours for below-average pay. I got the talk for a while from my parents: "Keep it up. It'll pay off. It was a mistake to quit." They've both worked jobs with security and benefits and eight hour days and mandatory breaks (Dad once told me to say "screw you, I'm taking my break" to the chef, which is when I gave up on them) all their lives. I've pretty much figured that I need to find my place and earn it. If it's not going to happen, I just do what I can to get another reference. I'm currently working something of my own, and have been loving it. I did so well last season, that I could take some months off and do volunteer work and start an actual healthy relationship with a person. I've seen how easily I almost got trapped, and how many cooks do. If I can get some help with my business, I'll pay them as much as I can, but only as much as I can, even for what's quite a lot of work. I just promised myself that I'll be honest with anyone who works for or with me. Plan Z fucked around with this message at 17:51 on Mar 3, 2014 |
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Mar 3, 2014 08:05
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Dimloep posted:Oh, they were ordering food. That was the "running restaurants out of a banquets kitchen" part. It kills me that we even bothered to put a kitchen (and I use the term very, very loosely) in the pub when it's only ever been a storage area. And that the bartenders offer customers the room service menu as well as the pub's menu. This. I had to work a job morning banquet, morning a la carte, and morning buffet in a hotel/conference center for a few years, and I couldn't explain well enough that the menu is the menu, and that while I'm doing two college basketball buffets, alumni buffet, full a la carte orders, a brunch, lunch in the bar, and what the gently caress else all at the same time (not to mention I haven't started prepping for the next day's events), I just need some kind of goddamned cooperation to keep things from jamming up. Just, please please don't make me take out mis en place for different meal times, or things that are not supposed to be available right now. Bartenders, while usually a cook's friend, just don't want to hear this, especially in the morning/afternoon when they're just doing Sudoku and popping Yeunglings for two customers.
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Mar 19, 2014 19:30
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pr0k posted:Having been on both sides of that particular problem...suck it up and make that mussels app for lunch. The barkeep feeds you all the draft beer you can drink, no? The only reason that dickhead doldrum regular tips $10 on a two-beer lunch is because he can show off for his buddy by ordering off-menu. This was a job where we were not even allowed to eat on the premises as paying customers if we were employed there, much less go for drinks (they called the GM in to get special permission when I brought visiting family in for a meal). I'm sorry, but when I'm feeding up to a 650 house count by myself, I can give less of a gently caress if the bartender's bored, and wants me to pull out the entire lunch mis en place in the middle of me doing several banquets and feeding the full restaurant. Under other circumstances, I would, but under those ones, I made my rules.
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Mar 19, 2014 21:15
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VogeGandire posted:Ending my first week as a kitchen porter tomorrow. As a bigger, taller dude, I prefer Skechers for kitchen shoes, the bigger and more heavily padded, the better. Add inserts as well, and make sure to fully bend your knees when you get the chance. Otherwise, just keep your posture, and stretch when you get home.
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Mar 20, 2014 02:26
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MAKE NO BABBYS posted:I've never worked in a place with specific menu times where if a ticket came in for a different menu time/item the kitchen wouldn't just turn around and say "gently caress you" unless I asked them beforehand. If it's slow, and I've got a good thing going with a server/tender, I'll make something special for their employee meal, or off-menu for special customers (I used to make poached eggs on hash for this one old veteran who'd come in at random times of the day). If someone saunters up asking for super-special poo poo during rushes or when everyone's working, I tell them that they're not eating different from the majority of customers.
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Mar 20, 2014 22:51
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Flat feet, 6'0", 200 lbs. Crocs aren't gonna cut it for me. I rock Skechers that resemble small black pillows with those green-topped arch supports. I've had the same pair for 2 years, and feel better than my new running shoes.
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Mar 21, 2014 00:56
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Clochette posted:I am The Saurus' wife, everyone in this thread please do whatever you can to discourage him unless he'll make more money as a chef than with his bachelor's in chemistry. Making good money as a chef basically means grinding your face against every surface in a given place for 11 hours minimum every day. You're not going to see him regularly, and if you have kids, he's probably going to miss every one of their events that doesn't take place on Sunday (unless you serve brunch, then maybe just Sunday night). I remember how we stole a cook from a local restaurant and paid him like $150 under the table just so he could cover our chef so he could go his daughter's college graduation. Most cooks/chefs I know with spouses either know they don't want kids, are okay without seeing each other for a few days, work in the industry together, or end up divorced. Cuisinart called it. Unless Saurus has a passion for this kind of stuff and you're very supportive, use that degree to get some internship in food science or something, and work your way up. As far as regional food goes, I'm jealous of any place that actually has some kind of cultural cuisine, good or not. The best we have out here is scrapple and Amish food.
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Mar 23, 2014 05:20
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Errant Gin Monks posted:Yes I am allergic to gluten, so I need special flour, like this King Arthur's all purpose. I'm also allergic to peanuts, so here are fresh organic protien free whole peanuts. I also cannot under any circumstances have salt. So I brought Himalayan pink salt. Also no shellfish, here are some scallops. That sucks. I always try to be friendly about allergies, because people seem to get so brow-beaten about it these days. We're starting up another season on the truck. I had gone through a career crisis thing over the off-season, and tried a few new temp jobs, and didn't like them. Unless someone wants to pay me to play Payday 2 or sperg about tanks all day, I couldn't give this gig up. Problem is, I'm only holding onto the industry because of this one job. I think regardless of age, whatever happens this will probably be my last cooking job.
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Apr 17, 2015 20:44
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When my aunt has a hyper-detailed list of things to ask for just so she can get a bagel and cup of tea from Dunkin' Donuts, you can understand why "gently caress it do it yourself" happens in the industry.
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Dec 16, 2015 08:41
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So, after being a cook since I was sixteen, I'm out. I'm out, and have health insurance, paid vacation, 8-4 schedule, two days off a week. I'm gonna miss it, but gently caress I am not going to miss it.
Plan Z fucked around with this message at 21:41 on Mar 3, 2016 |
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Mar 3, 2016 21:31
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So I started writing up a post on how I once helped a bunch of ridiculous human beings open a ridiculous giant restaurant/night club venture. It's now about 10 pages single-spaced in Word and going. I figured it'd be a funny and interesting story, but the problem is it's too humorous/large for E/N, inappropriate (I think) as its own thread in GWS, and I don't want to interrupt this thread with giant story posts here if nobody (rightfully) gives a poo poo. Do you think it'd be alright as one of those A/T threads?
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Oct 31, 2016 08:28
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Willie Tomg posted:Having helped a couple sentient piles of Fail live their dreams IRL I genuinely give a poo poo about hearing this. I think big posts offer a springboard for subsequent posts about things. I think yours lives very comfortably here ITT and also in A/T maybe. I guess I could post a bit here. This is part 1 of about 6 and going, which I'm paring down right now. I never thought I'd have a story in my life involving former classmates-turned-loan-sharks shaking down my bosses for money. So the only work experience I have is as a cook/chef. I started working part-time in kitchens when I was seventeen, and continued full-time when I had to drop out of college. One of the worst of these was a semi full-time job (I did 40+ a week, but was not considered "full time") at a hotel/conference center on the campus of our local university. It was an incredibly busy environment, and they seemed to like me enough that they started giving more and more responsibilities while still paying me under $10/hr. I really genuinely enjoyed the job at the beginning, but towards the end I was just showing up to work stupidly early and given a whole bunch of extra hours and responsibilities but also yelled at for working extra hours. After a particularly long winter of serious E/N Brain Troubles, I decided I needed to quit the place as I wasn't going anywhere with it. And since I was pretty much hurting myself by working there, I quit without another job lined up. I spent the next few months basically catching up on sleep that I felt I needed since high school, and spending what money I'd earned and saved (I was about 24 at this time). I remember having a particularly long binge drinking weekend where I finally had a yell about dropping out and skipping out on a friend's funeral because they couldn't let a "part time" employee off of work. After I was tired of unemployment, I applied to a job at a place that was advertising as a night club upstairs and a restaurant downstairs, both ready to open in a few months. I was hired on the spot by a pretty wound-up skinny little man from New Orleans claiming to be the head chef. The conversation we had seemed promising. They had everything ordered, the other owners/managers had opened bars/clubs before, and they felt they had the infrastructure they needed. I went home and didn't receive a call for almost a month. When they did eventually call me, they told me that it was for an employee meeting. When I arrived, there were about 20+ "employees" hanging around. I could pick out the bartenders, cooks, and servers out from each other just by looking. I immediately gravitated to a cook who looked exactly like a skinny Silent Bob, which pretty much summed up the whole of him. We got along well, and i made sure to remember it. Eventually, everyone got there and the meeting could start. The leaders of the project introduced themselves, and it was the first time I got a really sinking feeling about the place. First guy was billed as the manager for both the restaurant and night club (they were going to be separate ventures, more on that later). He was an off-and-on professional DJ and former bar manager and looked like the kind of guy who was desperately hanging on to his long-gone twenties. He had a Smashmouth hairdo and chinstrap beard with clothes that were meant for a raver ten years younger and twenty pounds lighter than him. Second guy was billed as financier, and everyone in charge made sure that we knew it was his one and only title. I immediately recognized his name as a young guy who'd opened up a night club in town that did well until it got shut down for too many underage charges. Last I'd heard he tried to open up another night club about an hour away, which seemed odd considering how rural it was in our part of the state. Third guy was the chef. All I had to do was look at him to know he was on hard drugs this time. I know because I'd done a short row of time taking amphetamines and I could pin some of the signs on him. Skinny Silent Bob, later agreed with me. The tweaker chef had come all the way up from Louisiana and worked around town for a few years before landing this gig to cook authentic cajun and creole food for both the restaurant and club. Fourth was the girl who was hired as the bar manager. She looked like she was getting close to 30. She was pretty and small, but you could tell she was tough, had good sense, and did a lot of hard work in her time. I eventually really liked her company, even when things really soured between me and the venture. I later found out she had been a cheerleader at the local Big Ten university. The final one did not inspire confidence. I sort of recognized her face at first, but didn't immediately place it as a person I'd gone to high school with until she introduced herself. She was slightly older than me, but her sister was in my grade, and I had even won second runner-up homecoming with her in my senior year. I still remember the younger sister as a very smart, driven, pretty girl among other good qualities. The woman that was here announced as a pseudo-H.R. rep I only knew as pretty. Nice, too, I guess, and married to the Financier. After a mission statement and demonstration of the sound system (which would be a running occurence), we filled out our W-4s and were offered the opportunity to do setup work for on-the-clock time. Since I was unemployed, I agreed to help out, said bye to Bob, and left. This was the beginning of some of the weirdest months of my life working for a bunch of weirdos opening a legally shaky enterprise.
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Nov 3, 2016 08:49
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SHUPS 4 DETH posted:jfc this post is really lo- I honestly can't remember his stage name, but he was well-represented on the internet and a few people I mentioned it to recognized his name.
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Nov 4, 2016 02:21
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After this, I'm gonna make an A/T thread, I think. Thanks for being my interest check. Part 2, The Setup: So to get people into the mindset, I kind of have to explain how the building worked. There were two main rooms, one upstairs one downstairs. The upstairs area had been a large night club. It was a really nice space and I'd been there a few times when it was open, most memorably to see a really good Dinosaur Jr. concert. It also had a very nice jazz night on occasion. It looked like a standard night club complete with outdoor balcony, two long bars, a dais with seating, and a an indoor VIP balcony. The downstairs business had been kind of a bistro/night club. When it was open, it had been hands down the best night club in town, despite being hands down the dirtiest night club I've ever been in (it was not uncommon for the crowd to die down and to see a few lost flip-flops stuck to the grimy floor in the summer). You'd actually get B-or-A list celebrities in town who were paid to show up at the other night clubs, and were then told to come to this place, where they'd often return. My friends and I were going on a cig/beer run one night when we caught Paulie Shore coming out of the place for some air. We started chatting him up and went back in and hung with him for a few hours. He was a really cool dude. Anyway, the place had a small attached kitchen that served surprisingly really good food in low volume. both of these separate businesses were run by the same guy who still owned the building that we were opening in. Despite the good reputation as fun clubs for both establishments, they both had a lot of bad stories. There were usually fights, an occasional stabbing, and a student once choked to death on his vomit when a bouncer held him in a bad position. The place was closed down and the owner had his liquor license revoked with no chance of getting another. Afterwards, he opened up a restaurant and a bakery in two smaller parts of the building. The restaurant was well-regarded as it didn't fantastic proper Italian food but closed due to problems from lax management. The bakery is still going strong and produces some of the best bread I've ever had. Now, the upstairs seemed to be in good shape. Lots of refrigeration, storage, bar room, equipment, etc. It was basically a dream setup for a night club. The downstairs was harder. The dining area had a beautiful long bar with Tiffany lights, Lots of real wood paneling, a beautiful mural across the entire length of the walls, really nice iron railings running across the two daises... it was a great bistro/club setup, even logistically. The kitchen downstairs was a huge red flag. The owners wanted to seat up to 200 in the main dining room eating upscale cuisine and this kitchen was not remotely set up for that. With creative stacking you could at most get about 8-10 plates in the window of the miniscule line table. There was a single 3-bay sink, a few beat-up Coke fridges, one single-bay fryer that liked to move on its own, a pretty damned good broiler and sautee setup (the latter of which had the only ovens underneath the range). There was also a single-rack dishwaser (one of those lift and drop box dealies) that received no hot water. I was told a grill and flat-top were on the way. The walk-in fridge was approximately 10'x8'. Seeing the kitchen was when I decided that the whole venture was gonna fail and I was going to make what money I could and bail. That turned out to be harder than you'd think. First though, we had to get the place in some kind of reasonable order. Plan Z fucked around with this message at 07:41 on Nov 4, 2016 |
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Nov 4, 2016 07:31
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JawKnee posted:The first thought for me when I see "Hmm, poo poo isn't working or set up, and extra poo poo hasn't been afforded for" is definitely not "These people we pay me on time" I did eventually get payed in one lump sum, though Bob ended up letting it spill that he made some calls that I'll get to, but it took a ton of effort trying to notify the proper local government channels first.
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Nov 11, 2016 14:55
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So I'd been unemployed for the better part of a year when I was approved for a restaurant job at a local corporation that had several restaurants/bars owned all over town. I passed the interview and they had a job lined up for me that would be full-time and benefits working for a structured organization. I'd heard negative stories about working for them, but we live in a college town full of a transient, young workforce so I didn't take the claims too seriously, and hey it's also the restaurant industry. Every time I mentioned that I was hired there, I got the worst looks in response, usually just this grim "neutral face" from people who I respected. They were usually followed by stories they experienced or heard about the place, one of them from a workaholic former chef who's now high up at the local university where he just told me to quit and get another temp job. Another was a former co-worker from a human sausage plant where I once got in a fight with my drunken manager while on duty. He said that the three months he worked at where I just got hired were worse than the several years we worked together at our job. I figured that I couldn't just not have a job and went to the orientation. I have a pretty clean resume despite that year of unemployment and that one shitshow I mentioned months ago (plan on having the thread up within the next few days I swear), and could probably stand to take a hit from a short-term job if I wanted to jump ship. We had to print out some 20-30 pages of forms and guidebooks ahead of time. The person who presented it to us was half an hour late (she was almost an hour late to my interview), and the orientation was two hours long. The majority of it was a history lesson, the rest being info on the various people/establishments in the corporation, followed by a list of rules that we had to follow precisely. We had to sign about 7 or 8 forms, one of them being an NDA. Then another guy who we'd just seen as the assistant GM in the Powerpoint came up to the orientation with some rant along the lines of "New hires? Well, I guess you can't be as loving stupid like this one idiot we just hired. Used his loving fake ID at the bar where he was just hired. I mean can you loving believe that?" I'm paraphrasing, but it went on and this was on the floor of one of the restaurants where customers were sitting down. This is not long after two of us were told our beards were unacceptable (mine is admittedly long and pretty bushy, but the other kid's was attractive, short, and very clean. Also cooks were not allowed facial hair whatsoever, including sideburns from what the handbook said). I didn't start right away since I was working an office temp job, so I had weeks to just hear stories about this place when I broke down and applied to what's considered probably the best restaurant around by miles. I'd known the owner casually for years, and he is a ridiculously nice guy who'd been running a really good ship for well over a decade, putting out some of the best food I've ever eaten here or elsewhere in a casual environment and they hired me practically on the spot. This is a place I'd been applying to for well over a decade with no results. Three days before I was supposed to be working in Nightmare Land. I bit the bullet and sent out a really apologetic e-mail to the woman handling my employment to the corporation, since yeah I was in the wrong for doing this and I was unprofessional and rude and wasted her/their time, which I admitted. I got a response that was sent in the tone and form of an ex's last e-mail after a bad breakup admonishing me for what I did and what are they offering you because we had this/this/this planned for you. I still feel lovely, but I feel like I dodged a bullet and landed in pudding.
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Apr 22, 2017 17:01
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| # ¿ May 4, 2024 06:19 |
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Also, on allergy talk, my sister's friend had a breakup and ate a jar of peanut butter over a day and a half and she is now allergic to peanut butter. Like a doctor checked it out, said "yeah you are how does that work."
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Apr 22, 2017 17:28
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