Mlurf…. It’s so late…and yet, I must post for posterity….

I was scheduled to work on Sunday with Armanzo (2), Katie (3), and Elliot (expo). Whoa! My first working Sunday! Of course, I commemorated the occasion by missing my bus (and subsequently, my train) and being nearly 30 minutes late =__=;;; *cue ironic music*

Sunday feels like any other day, and yet it’s also not. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just this weird vibe I felt (though it might also have been my nerves acting up); this strange pressure that I only had three hours to prep until we opened for business so I better make it count. The feeling was similar to when I first started out as an intern at Avec; I would look at the prep list and pick whatever looked important enough and made me look busy enough, but still easy enough where no one could call me out on it if I was fucking shit up.
After that, it was pretty much like any day where we open for service, though, with the weather being so nice (I think it was 79°F), we filled up pretty quickly right after we opened. The volume level in the dining room went from really quiet to increasingly loud in about half an hour. Tonight was fine, though I hit a rough patch some time in the late evening where it seemed I was just behind on my items (not dates though! How sad is it that I’m always really proud of that?). It was mildly frustrating for awhile. Armanzo also would help me a couple of times, helping me cut up chicken while I plated potatoes, or plate sausage while I got the salad for it. Not that I’m paranoid or anything but I wonder if he did it cos I was slow or cos he wanted to help. He’s the kind of person that would lend a hand cos he wanted to, but I feel like I’m so dense that I wouldn’t even know how slow I was, no matter how fast I was trying to move/get food out.

Another frustrating episode was my wood situation. Our wood supply has been pretty damp lately so it doesn’t light really well. Usually when you throw dry wood in the oven and light it, it should go “PWOOF” and burst into flame, but unless you gave it ample time to dry out, the wood would smolder and then die. NOT FUN. Especially if it’s 3:34PM and you’ve got two pans of dates that should’ve finished parcooking 34 minutes ago. And then you have orders coming in, and no amount of praying to the kitchen gods and cajoling the logs into behaving will do. This exchange with Eric I had earlier that day pretty much sums up my Sunday:
Eric: Are you ready for today?
Me: I am, but my fire’s not.
I’m going to have to ponder this situation for possible remedies.

The night’s not as bad I make it. I just happen to be highlighting all the significantly bad details. I’m kind of secretly proud that my chicken platings all looked really nice tonight. Not that they don’t always look nice, but they were a bright spot in my exasperating wood woes.

Later that night, Katie’s sister came to eat and even later that night her boyfriend came to visit/pick her up from work. Mikie’s (our server) husband came in to pick her up/have a drink. Seeing them made me wish I had friends/family/a boyfriend who could come in to see me but also get a nice reception from my coworkers. (Sadly, the Boyfriend lives in Seattle, and even if he wanted to eat at Avec, it’d be impossible. Dammit!) Hey, Friends & Family of Betty! I’d love it if you could come have dinner at Avec! You’d get a nice meal, and I’d love to see you! That is, if you can stand the volume level and the (slightly uncomfortable) wooden chairs!

But, let’s wait a little longer, when I’ve been on the station a while and have a little more pull ^_^;;

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