After enjoying my last weekend off for presumably the rest
of my life, I worked a 10 and a 12-hour shift on consecutive days. I need to
come clean right away and say that both of those numbers are exaggerated, but
only by minutes. The hardest part was getting home at roughly 10pm last night
and waking up just after 5am to go work at the laminating factory. I was tired,
and I very simply didn’t want to go to that job anymore. Although it is probably
necessary to sustain my income, I can’t see myself as a laminator for very much
longer. I quit last week, and I’ll do it again, I promise.
Two days into this new experience with Levy Restaurants, I
can tell you that I like it. After doing nothing but prep for the first 18
hours of my tenure there, I finally got to plate my first order last night
shortly after 6pm. The Wild hadn’t started yet, and I was placed in a small
kitchen on the suite level at the Xcel Center. I was given a menu—the same menu
given to the customers—and told by my boss that I had enough experience as a
line cook to do just fine. He said it would be slow, and he was right, but
either way I jumped right in and felt right at home behind the line. The menu
was simple—only ten items—and all I really had to do was assemble all of the
ingredients I had spent all of that time preparing.
Here’s the menu from memory (I have a copy of it at home,
but I’m gonna try anyhow).
1.
Spicy dry-rub chicken wings.
2.
Sirloin-swiss melt with chips.
3.
Pork belly steam bread “tacos.” (Yum.)
4.
Mac and cheese
5.
Bacon-jalapeno-cheddar pretzel (Remember I’m
still serving in a stadium.)
6.
Olivino mozzarella flatbread with balsamic reduction.
7.
Some kind of chicken salad.
8.
Hmmmm. I guess I should have taken the menu with
me.
I know there was more, I just can’t recall. I also know I
didn’t make everything on the menu last night, so that’s what I blame on my
forgetful memory.
I’ve always had a knack for plating. What that means is the
presentation of the food on the plate. The wait staff seemed very pleased with the
limited amount of work I was able to do last night, and asked if I could work
up there every event. They said that it looked like I cared and was enthusiastic,
based on the plates I was putting out, and, I’m sure my charming demeanor. I’m
one of the best chefs in the state, just ask me!
I was dead-tired when my alarm went off this morning at
5:20. I got up, let Willie out, let Willie Jr. out, and headed out to laminate.
My feet were killing me, so it really hurt when I ran into a bolt that was
sticking out of the floor, about three inches, and for a brief minute, I
thought I had a broken foot. I suffered through that and when I was done with
work, I took my tired feet for a 35-minute run around Lake LA. My Fitbit claims
that I have taken 66,135 steps since midnight, Monday. It feels like it.
Tomorrow, Thursday, I’m not working anywhere. I’d love to sit around the house
and watch T.V. all day, but I have too much to do. Tomorrow night I’m speaking
at the Center for Victims of Torture on my experience with segregation. Growing
up a black boy in a white world I have a lot of experience with that. Just
kidding. Segregation in this case means the hole—my anus. Ok fine, I’ll stop. I’m
speaking on my experience with isolation in prison. The hole is a terrible
place to live, even though it was only for six days. I have to talk for ten
minutes on my experience and how it relates to my relationships with people
after my release. So, I have my plate full, so to speak.
Tomorrow, for the first time in months, I won’t have an
alarm set. Yep, I’m going to sleep in as long as I can. Usually that means I’ll
be up at 5, but I’m going to try to go back to sleep if that happens. Now I’m
just rambling, so I say good day.