I've had a long day and it isn't even over yet. I only have sixteen minutes to write a decent blog post. At six, a close and wonderful family friend is coming over and we are celebrating his birthday by eating a delicious chicken pie outside in the sunshine.
I worked today, from 9-4:30, and now, sitting down after a shower and a change of clothes, I feel human again. I also feel refreshed, happily sleepy, and excited for the rest of my evening. I work for a small bakery/cafe'/catering company called Two Tartes, run by two family friends. This summer we are debuting at our local farmer's market, which is Saturday.
I worked at Two Tartes last summer as well. I work the counter and the register sometimes, but more often I am sloring. Slore is my unofficial title at Two Tartes. To slore (or slut/whore) is to work the dishwashing station. The wonderful thing about sloring (I say wonderful with sarcasm) is how delightfully hot it gets. The sinks are situated right behind the counter where our crockpots sit, happily holding their delicious and hot soupy contents. The kitchen space in general is pretty tight, so I'm incredibly close to the oven and stove as well. Last summer we were reaching record highs in my area (luckily I was off that week). Add the location to the hot water you use to wash dishes and the hot pots and pans you get handed every three seconds, and you're practically baking. Then add the sanitation machine, which goes up to ridiculously high temperatures, and you become a human crockpot yourself.
If you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen. Working gets pretty crazy sometimes, because in addition to our weekday hours from 7-3, we cater, so we have a lot of food going in and out of the cafe'. Despite the heat and chaos, I actually love working at Two Tartes. We have delicious food, which, despite my protestations, my bosses refuse to take out of my paycheck, even when I treat friends, I get paid well, I love the people I work with and serve, and when I leave at the end of a seven hour shift with my pay clamped in my sweaty fist, I feel like I've really earned it. As Patrick can attest to over at Stand Back, working with ones' hands and really laboring is something we all should do at some point.
I think hard earned money is something that we can appreciate more. I, for one, treasure the money I really earn much more than money given to me as a gift. NOT THAT I REJECT MONEY. But there's something different about money that you put your back and sweat and sometimes blood into (mostly when people decide to be really stupid/mean and dump sharp knives into your EMPTY basin of hot soapy water). I keep my work money separate, and I either put it in the bank or buy something special with it. I'll be working more this coming week, so I might have some fun stories to share about the joy of sloring.
Sweet! I have a minute to spare. Sorry about the kind of chaos in this post. Facebook, here I come.
Cheers,
-T.A.D.
No comments:
Post a Comment