BANG! BANG! BANG!
By; Speaker Gerald A. Polley
Managers weren't the only ones I seemed to irritate at the workplace. Sometimes
cooks didn't appreciate my efforts, either. In the same restaurant that I
had problems with the manager there was also a cook that didn't last too
long with me. I'd been working with him for about a week when all of a sudden
one morning I heard CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! I rushed into the cook station and
was immediately joined by the boss. The cook was hauling pots and pans off
the rack and the shelf and throwing them all over.
"Victor! Victor! What's the matter?" the boss answered. "Take it easy!"
"It's him!" the cook commented, pointing at me, "I can't stand him! He's
like a machine, the same thing over and over again! Everything back in the
same, precise place. He never does anything different. It drives me crazy!
A man can't be a machine. He's got to do something DIFFERENT once and a while!"
The boss and I stared at each other in bewilderment. Finally the boss managed
to speak. "But we WANT everything organized, Victor. We WANT people to put
things back where they're supposed to be. We're trying to get the other dishwashers
to follow Gerald's example so people can find stuff when they want it. Then
you'll just have to get used to it. No more of this foolishness!"
Vic stared at the boss for a couple of moments and then grunted. "If that's
what you want!" and went back to work.
The boss and I again stared at each other for several moments then he grinned,
shook his head and walked off.
The pots and pans in that place had been neglected for so long the buildup
on them was terrible! I had been attacking them with every type of tool I
could find, but it was slow going. Then I suggested to the boss I'd bring
in my drill and get some buffing wheels. It would kind of be like a motorized
steel wool. The boss said "Sure!" He'd pay for the wheels. I got what I needed
and went to work.
I only had a couple of hours a morning I could work until the customers
started coming in and had been making quite a bit of progress when one morning
Vic charged out of the kitchen.
"Stop doing that!" he screamed, "Stop making so damned much noise! What
in the hell is the matter with you? Why do you make so damned much noise?
"I'm working!" I told him. "I've gotta get this stuff done! Don't worry
about it."
"Stop it, NOW!" Vic screamed. "I don't care! You're making too much noise!"
The boss came out the back door. "What's the matter?" he asked, "What's
the problem?
"He's making too much noise!" Vic screamed. "This used to be a nice quiet
place to work 'til HE came here. The other dishwasher NEVER made so much
NOISE! Why does he have to?"
"The other dishwashers never made any noise," the boss answered, "because
they never DID anything. Gerald works. Leave him alone! Get in there and
WORK!"
Vic stormed back in the kitchen. Again the boss and I exchanged humorous
glances, and I went back to work. A few days later the boss came to me with
another problem.
"Gerald," he asked, "you got any idea why this steam table isn't keeping
the food warm enough?"
I examined the steam table. It seemed to be working fine. Then, I noticed
some of the inserts and put one in.
"Here's the problem!" I remarked. "The corners of all the inserts are bent
down. They're not fitting snugly in the steam table so the heat is escaping.
I'll lay you odds if I straignten out these corners so the pans set in them
right, the food will stay nice and warm."
"Go for it!" the boss instructed.
I got some pliers and spent several hours bending the inserts back into
shape. I was just about done when I heard "BANG! BANG! BANG!" in the kitchen.
I looked in and here was Vic with one of the inserts I had just straightened,
bending up the corners again, banging them on the counter. I stuck my head
in the office door and told the boss what was happening. He went in the kitchen
and argued with Vic for several minutes, then came back.
"They don't want the pans to fit so snugly," he remarked, "they can't get
them out without the steam burning their fingers."
I told him to leave the inserts alone, and to pull them up with a spoon
to let out the steam before taking them out. He got a disgusted look, shook
his head, and went back in the office. I continued straightening the inserts.
The next day when I came in, I noticed several of them had been bent up
again, so I got out the pliers and started straightening them again. After
a while I became aware of someone standing at the end of the counter. I looked
up to see Vic glaring at me. He never said a word, just shook his head and
walked off. A few minutes later one of the waitresses came in.
"I've got an order," she remarked, "where's the cook?"
I went into the kitchen. Vic's apron was laying on the counter by the back
door and his car
was gone!
"I'll do what I can," I told the waitress, "til the boss gets here."
We had some very understanding customers that morning 'til the boss got
in, and was able to take over. I'm not the world's best cook!
We never saw or heard of Vic again! He was owed three day's pay, he never
came back to pick it up. The boss went to his room but he'd moved out the
same day he'd left work.
I'll admit I've irritated some people over the years, but that was the first
time I'd ever irritated so much that he left without ever coming back for
his pay!
THE END