Viral

I’ve never worked from home. Before I went to prison, is suppose you could say that I worked out of cars, hotels, and people’s couches peddling meth all willy-nilly. But in my sobriety, as a functional human being, I’ve never had to do my work with a cell phone and laptop. It’s different.

I don’t like it. As I wrote a few posts ago, I was recently promoted to Executive Sous Chef at my place of employment. This came with a plethora of new responsibilities atop an already full workload. But I embraced this opportunity, and after our family vacation in Oregon last week, I was ready to give it my all. But while we were on vacation, the news started flowing of the novel carona virus, and its impact on our country.

On the last day in Oregon, two states had already made the decision to shut down restaurants and bars.  I knew this could happen in Minnesota, I just didn’t yet understand the implications. As we landed safely in Denver for our layover on our way back to MSP, I took my phone off of airplane mode, and almost immediately, I saw several messages from coworkers and vendors with the news. All restaurants and bars in Minnesota were to close their doors. Shit.

As I pondered what to do we all stopped at McDonald's, I had the wife order me something called a quadruple Big Mac. I just kind of pointed at it, and continued my calls in English and Español para la cocina, and waited for the girls to get their happy meals and proceed to the gate. McDonalds is the absolute worst. It goes against everything I have ever learned, and eating something that I could hardly fit in my hands I’m sure made me look like a disgrace. People saw me randomly with a bouquet of french fries or an awkward grip on a burger that was losing its lettuce all over the concourse switching between languages and cursing in front of children, wondering what I was so animated about. Fair enough, strangers. Fair enough.

I was cancelling all of the orders that were going to come in to the club the next day, phoning my employees to tell them I didn’t know what to tell them, and strategically planning my own existence should the industry shut down for good. On my third call, I was told that I wouldn’t be allowed at work for two weeks following travel, which also applied to my wife as we work at the same club. Shit.

It was a 45 minute layover, and as I was starting my last call, I received a message stating my grandmother was found unresponsive, slouched over in a chair. “Now boarding flight 669 to Minneapolis.”

I had an hour and a half long flight to consider all scenarios and conversations I would need to have when I got back. Then I realized it would be nearly midnight when we got in and I had some time to think. I needed the time. So did everybody. There is a lot of management in a big club like ours. We have 950 members last I checked, and they all have spouses, kids,  guests, etc. there was a lot to contemplate.

On the way home, the wife said she was hungry and since the McDonalds at the airport was so bad, she wanted to try again. So, I obliged and we sat in an essentially unattended drive-through for fifteen minutes so she could get her fix. As we drove away, I shoved a bouquet of fries in my mouth and wondered when I would have a heart attack.

I’m on day three of working from home and it is incredibly frustrating and stressful. Orchestrating a show that I can’t see is maddening, and I don’t know if I’m doing all I could be, but I’m doing what I’m allowed to do. I am on the phone constantly, monitoring emails, sending thoughts and ideas to people, ordering what I can from a distance, and relentlessly thinking about how to make the most out of this dire situation. The club is doing carryout like most other restaurants and it has gotten off to a good start. We are a private club, so we do have some exclusivity to provide to members in an era where everybody provides pickup availability. We are thinking of family style, or even mimicking something like Hello Fresh, packaging raw ingredients for members to assemble and cook. Yes, yes, I know we have to have a HACCP plan for that. Let’s just pretend we do and keep on thinking of other ways to satisfy the never-ending call for prepared meals.

I have twelve days left at the minimum to work from home. Maybe I will write more. This took me about twenty minutes, so I certainly can find the time. I hope all of my fellow foodies out there are handling this well. I would love to hear comments on what you are doing differently these days to cope with the closures.

P.S. Grandma is okay. She has low blood-sodium, and sometimes symptoms mimic stroke. It's happened a few times before, so I wasn't incredibly worried.

Stay safe out there.