Guaranteed that if I was the owner of a restaurant, this is exactly what my kitchen staff would be expected to wear. I would some how find a way to get around every fire, medical etc. hazard these suits would cause. I have not been diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, I do not believe I should be or that I have have previous issues, but the disgust brought upon by co-works has brought me to this level.
Grandma having all the special connections she has, helped me get a job as a busser. I was working at a restaurant cleaning tables and keeping things fully stocked. I loved the job, cleaning was easy and just doing what I was told. Everyone failed to mention that Monday and Tuesday was always slow and the rest of the week there was constant traffic.
There was something major I was lacking, the fact that I needed to pick up the pace, and keep it going. When I am being watched by more that 3 people, I become extremely nervous. I begin to think about the worst possible situations. I picture it before it happens, an extreme dramatic attack. Possibly from this girl that has been giving me the stink eye. Or a possible robbery. I know this is kind of weird, but I have been in some pretty messed up situations. I am also constantly looking around at my surroundings and being aware who and what is around me. I also become clumsy and cause a scene anyway by spilling something major like salsa or tripping over myself, or even bumping into things.
I quickly clean the mess and escape to the kitchen. Now the head cook is a really well known respected woman. My Grandma specifically told me to, "NEVER EVER EVER, talk back to Margie" My Grandma used extreme caution in her eye contact. She knew, that I didn't fully understand when it was time to stop talking. Getting slapped across the face because of smart remark was common to me. But when I spilled the salsa for the tenth time in a week she was fed up and I understood why. I had to take the embarrassment, every time she pointed out my mistakes. She was just really mean about it. I was told by the head bartender, "she made grown men cry!" Margie just really told it like it was, with absolute no sympathy. Because you would just not learn that way. Lucky she tended to leave early so her wrath was only for a few hours.
It was then that I got to see the real thing. I really want to avoid going into detail. The cooks took short cuts in making things. No hair nets were used. There was a separate room where pots and pans where kept. Often I would have to run in there and see flies on the pans and I just prayed they would wash them before they used them. It really was not extreme behavior like spitting or inhumane things like that it was just not up to par with what I expect when I eat out. Witnessing these things just made me paranoid about my future experiences.
I love when a counter smells like Clorox. This may be an exaggeration, but I expect everything to be spotless. We all know that this may impossible. I just get really shocked when someone is puking for days on end because of bad food they were served. Are places trying to save money and save food after the expiration date? Is meat and poultry kept at standard and expected temperature? I know not every place follows the precise rules day after day, but I sure do expect that.
I just am uncomfortable with the fact that I can't see who is handling my food and what they could be doing to it. I guess this situation depends on the person but I rather make my own food so I know what's in it. As a first job I am glad it was at a restaurant. At times it was fun, and nerve-wrecking but the experience was an eye opener. Hopefully owners have great judgment and a well supervised and clean atmosphere to keep crazy customers like me at ease.
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