BBQJOE
Songster
Preface:
I wasn’t going to do this one because I’ve written it so many times, but it’s been years. The original is still probably floating around the planet somewhere on a 4 1/2 inch floppy disc, written on an apple mac plus. This is a true story, the names have not been changed to protect anybody. Please sit back and enjoy!
Many many years ago, in a small town in Colorado, a family including three brothers, actually four, made their dream come true, and somehow pulled everything together to open a restaurant.
The restaurant was mostly made out of old train cars, actually parked on an section of old railroad track.
The main bar, and the main dining room were an addition, connected to two train cars.
The first car was the employee area that contained all the basic serving amenities as well as the kitchen pass through window and entrance.
I guess the kitchen too was an add on, and sat on a second level, with the lower level used as walk-in refrigeration, receiving, and a food prep room.
The third car was overflow seating, and sometimes used to host private parties or functions.
The three bothers were Chris, Rags, and Charlie.
Chris was pretty much the main boss or manager, Rags was the bar manager, and Charlie was my boss, being the kitchen manager.
Chris was ok, a bit of a hard-ass, but everyone in the kitchen was ok with him, as long as he stayed out of it.
Rags was a good guy, and there were many stories of how he got his nickname, but not even his sister who worked there would give up the reason for it. Come to think of it, I don’t think any of the employees ever knew his real name. I certainly didn’t.
Charlie was a good and fair man to work for, but honestly, before then, I don’t think he knew the first thing about a kitchen, but as I said, he was a fair man.
The first week we were open, we were busy as hell, what with the opening ceremonies, and the free food giveaways to welcome folks to give the place a try.
We spent two weeks doing practice runs as well as participating together with an employee management counselor who led us through a bunch of games and seminars designed to get us very acquainted with each other. By the time we opened, we all knew each other quite well, and we all knew what we expected from ourselves and those we would be working with.
It was a great experience!
During that first week, a major mistake was made.
A large private party for all of their financial supporters was thrown in the back car.
The kitchen crew kicked ass, and by the time closing time came around we were destroyed.
Someone wheeled a large plastic trash can on wheels into the kitchen. In that can was a whole bunch of ice and water. In that ice and water floated a half keg of very cold beer!
Being the lead cook, I certainly couldn’t see anything wrong with everyone in the kitchen having at least one free beer.
It took extra long to clean the kitchen that night. By the time we shut the lights off, there wasn't a drop left in that keg.
The next day I apologized to Charlie. He could have fired me, and I expected it.
But being fair as he was, he didn’t. Charlie was a good guy.
Anyways things went pretty well for the first few months until Charlie found out about the school work program.
It turned out that Charlie could hire kids whose elevator didn’t quite make it to the top floor. He'd give them jobs, and the school would pay their wages.
Hey! Free help, who could beat that?
It became the cooks job to teach these kids how to bus, mop floors, and wash dishes.
We all weren’t crazy about it, but decided to roll with it and have fun, usually at the cost of Charlie’s mental health.
It wasn’t unusual to have one of these kids completely freaked out chasing down Charlie during the dinner rush screaming for a can of steam.
They were all easily panicked, and we tried to show Charlie how pleased we were with these poor kids.
From time to time, Charlie might return from an errand to find one of his scholastically impaired kids mopping the parking lot or inventorying each box of tooth picks.
We tried to keep these kids as busy as we could between orders.
One particular kid, we’ll call Jeff.
Jeff was smart, but he wasn’t bright. Kind of like a monkey.
We taught Jeff how to cut curly fries. It was pretty simple. All you had to do was take a fresh potato, put it in the grinder type gizmo, and turn the crank. Out came curly fries and dropped them into a sink of water.
One particular afternoon after my second cook Steve and I were cleaning up after the lunch rush, I moved a deep fryer, and noticed a hole in the floor where some old plumbing must have been removed.
I looked down into the hole, and all I mostly saw was a very large black pipe right under the floor, probably the main upstairs drainage.
But looking slightly over the pipe, I could see Jeff in the basement cranking out curly fries.
I called Steve over, and said watch this.
I dropped a cherry tomato into the hole. It bounced off the pipe, fell, and hit Jeff in the arm.
Steve tossed in a small mushroom, and it hit Jeff on the head, but he paid little attention.
Pretty soon we were stuffing just about anything we could down the hole to get Jeff's attention. French fries, croutons, coffee creamers, popcorn for the bar, you name it.
It wasn’t long before Jeff came clomping up the stairs, and stood at the top. He had a strange look on his face.
We turned, and asked, what???
He said in a rather calm, but bewildered voice, “There’s food coming out of the ceiling.”
We both told him he was imagining things. He tried to explain the tomatoes and mushrooms. We told him he was nuts, and to get back to work because we needed the French fries.
Just went back downstairs, and started working the potatoes again.
A few minutes later, the food began to drop again.
This time Jeff came up the stairs a little more worried than the time before, exclaiming, “There’s really food coming out of the ceiling!”
We asked where? He said “on my head, there’s food falling on my head!”
We both asked, “What head?”
He said, “My head!”
He was told he didn’t have a head, it was just a place to store boogers.
He again exclaimed, “Really! There's food coming out of the ceiling and hitting me on the head!”
I told Steve he’d better go with him, and see what he was talking about.
As Steve and Jeff stood in front of the prep sink, I started dropping more junk down the hole.
Steve got all panicked, pointed to the pipe in the ceiling and yelled, “Oh my God Jeff!!!”
I heard Jeff ask what?
Steve said, “The food pipe. That’s the food pipe, that’s how food gets into the restaurant, and it’s leaking!!!”
“Oh my God Jeff, go get Charlie, we’re gonna have a food flood!!!”
Jeff flew into full blown Adrenaline melt down. He came bounding up the stairs screaming, “Charlie, Charlie, Charlie!”
He ran screaming into the dining room still full of people,” Charlie, Charlie, the food pipe’s leaking!!!!” Hurry!!!”
When Jeff came bursting into the kitchen with Charlie right behind him, Charlie asked us, “What the hell is he talking about?”
We both looked at him, and said, I don’t know, what?
Charlie told us that Jeff said there was food hitting him on the head.
We both smiled, and asked at the same time, “What head?”
Jeff said,”My head.”
I told him, “That’s not a head, that’s just a place to store boogers.”
Charlie turned to leave, and told us to leave poor Jeff alone.
Charlie left, and we told Jeff to get back to the potatoes.
As soon as he got back downstairs to his sink, the food again began to flow.
He came running back up the stairs saying, “It’s doing it again!!!”
Jeff and I both yelled, “Oh my God, go get Charlie!”
The kitchen door swung open and slammed, and Jeff went running into the dining room screaming, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie!!!”
Poor Charlie.
I wasn’t going to do this one because I’ve written it so many times, but it’s been years. The original is still probably floating around the planet somewhere on a 4 1/2 inch floppy disc, written on an apple mac plus. This is a true story, the names have not been changed to protect anybody. Please sit back and enjoy!
Many many years ago, in a small town in Colorado, a family including three brothers, actually four, made their dream come true, and somehow pulled everything together to open a restaurant.
The restaurant was mostly made out of old train cars, actually parked on an section of old railroad track.
The main bar, and the main dining room were an addition, connected to two train cars.
The first car was the employee area that contained all the basic serving amenities as well as the kitchen pass through window and entrance.
I guess the kitchen too was an add on, and sat on a second level, with the lower level used as walk-in refrigeration, receiving, and a food prep room.
The third car was overflow seating, and sometimes used to host private parties or functions.
The three bothers were Chris, Rags, and Charlie.
Chris was pretty much the main boss or manager, Rags was the bar manager, and Charlie was my boss, being the kitchen manager.
Chris was ok, a bit of a hard-ass, but everyone in the kitchen was ok with him, as long as he stayed out of it.
Rags was a good guy, and there were many stories of how he got his nickname, but not even his sister who worked there would give up the reason for it. Come to think of it, I don’t think any of the employees ever knew his real name. I certainly didn’t.
Charlie was a good and fair man to work for, but honestly, before then, I don’t think he knew the first thing about a kitchen, but as I said, he was a fair man.
The first week we were open, we were busy as hell, what with the opening ceremonies, and the free food giveaways to welcome folks to give the place a try.
We spent two weeks doing practice runs as well as participating together with an employee management counselor who led us through a bunch of games and seminars designed to get us very acquainted with each other. By the time we opened, we all knew each other quite well, and we all knew what we expected from ourselves and those we would be working with.
It was a great experience!
During that first week, a major mistake was made.
A large private party for all of their financial supporters was thrown in the back car.
The kitchen crew kicked ass, and by the time closing time came around we were destroyed.
Someone wheeled a large plastic trash can on wheels into the kitchen. In that can was a whole bunch of ice and water. In that ice and water floated a half keg of very cold beer!
Being the lead cook, I certainly couldn’t see anything wrong with everyone in the kitchen having at least one free beer.
It took extra long to clean the kitchen that night. By the time we shut the lights off, there wasn't a drop left in that keg.
The next day I apologized to Charlie. He could have fired me, and I expected it.
But being fair as he was, he didn’t. Charlie was a good guy.
Anyways things went pretty well for the first few months until Charlie found out about the school work program.
It turned out that Charlie could hire kids whose elevator didn’t quite make it to the top floor. He'd give them jobs, and the school would pay their wages.
Hey! Free help, who could beat that?
It became the cooks job to teach these kids how to bus, mop floors, and wash dishes.
We all weren’t crazy about it, but decided to roll with it and have fun, usually at the cost of Charlie’s mental health.
It wasn’t unusual to have one of these kids completely freaked out chasing down Charlie during the dinner rush screaming for a can of steam.
They were all easily panicked, and we tried to show Charlie how pleased we were with these poor kids.
From time to time, Charlie might return from an errand to find one of his scholastically impaired kids mopping the parking lot or inventorying each box of tooth picks.
We tried to keep these kids as busy as we could between orders.
One particular kid, we’ll call Jeff.
Jeff was smart, but he wasn’t bright. Kind of like a monkey.
We taught Jeff how to cut curly fries. It was pretty simple. All you had to do was take a fresh potato, put it in the grinder type gizmo, and turn the crank. Out came curly fries and dropped them into a sink of water.
One particular afternoon after my second cook Steve and I were cleaning up after the lunch rush, I moved a deep fryer, and noticed a hole in the floor where some old plumbing must have been removed.
I looked down into the hole, and all I mostly saw was a very large black pipe right under the floor, probably the main upstairs drainage.
But looking slightly over the pipe, I could see Jeff in the basement cranking out curly fries.
I called Steve over, and said watch this.
I dropped a cherry tomato into the hole. It bounced off the pipe, fell, and hit Jeff in the arm.
Steve tossed in a small mushroom, and it hit Jeff on the head, but he paid little attention.
Pretty soon we were stuffing just about anything we could down the hole to get Jeff's attention. French fries, croutons, coffee creamers, popcorn for the bar, you name it.
It wasn’t long before Jeff came clomping up the stairs, and stood at the top. He had a strange look on his face.
We turned, and asked, what???
He said in a rather calm, but bewildered voice, “There’s food coming out of the ceiling.”
We both told him he was imagining things. He tried to explain the tomatoes and mushrooms. We told him he was nuts, and to get back to work because we needed the French fries.
Just went back downstairs, and started working the potatoes again.
A few minutes later, the food began to drop again.
This time Jeff came up the stairs a little more worried than the time before, exclaiming, “There’s really food coming out of the ceiling!”
We asked where? He said “on my head, there’s food falling on my head!”
We both asked, “What head?”
He said, “My head!”
He was told he didn’t have a head, it was just a place to store boogers.
He again exclaimed, “Really! There's food coming out of the ceiling and hitting me on the head!”
I told Steve he’d better go with him, and see what he was talking about.
As Steve and Jeff stood in front of the prep sink, I started dropping more junk down the hole.
Steve got all panicked, pointed to the pipe in the ceiling and yelled, “Oh my God Jeff!!!”
I heard Jeff ask what?
Steve said, “The food pipe. That’s the food pipe, that’s how food gets into the restaurant, and it’s leaking!!!”
“Oh my God Jeff, go get Charlie, we’re gonna have a food flood!!!”
Jeff flew into full blown Adrenaline melt down. He came bounding up the stairs screaming, “Charlie, Charlie, Charlie!”
He ran screaming into the dining room still full of people,” Charlie, Charlie, the food pipe’s leaking!!!!” Hurry!!!”
When Jeff came bursting into the kitchen with Charlie right behind him, Charlie asked us, “What the hell is he talking about?”
We both looked at him, and said, I don’t know, what?
Charlie told us that Jeff said there was food hitting him on the head.
We both smiled, and asked at the same time, “What head?”
Jeff said,”My head.”
I told him, “That’s not a head, that’s just a place to store boogers.”
Charlie turned to leave, and told us to leave poor Jeff alone.
Charlie left, and we told Jeff to get back to the potatoes.
As soon as he got back downstairs to his sink, the food again began to flow.
He came running back up the stairs saying, “It’s doing it again!!!”
Jeff and I both yelled, “Oh my God, go get Charlie!”
The kitchen door swung open and slammed, and Jeff went running into the dining room screaming, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie!!!”
Poor Charlie.
