Still not Faustus.
This is the first time in some years that I’ve gotten the 4th of July as a holiday. Am not used to this. Am used to working various Manhattan foodservice jobs where one not only works on July 4th, one works an 11-hour shift with a half-hour break and gets paid in cash.
Specifically, am used to working at places with customers who ask you earnestly, over and over again, is that soy? That’s soy milk, in the latte, right? You’re sure that’s soy? Are you sure? And the espresso, that’s decaf, right? Decaf espresso? You’re sure it’s decaf? Are you sure? Oh, and do I happen to know if the salads are organic? They’re all organic, right? You wouldn’t sell salads made with non-organic vegetables, would you? Oh, and I know you don’t open for another hour, but can you please unlock the door and let me in to buy two dozen cupcakes, because my fashion magazine is having a meeting in half an hour and my boss said I needed to get these and the world will end if I show up to this meeting without cupcakes.
You want to take these people aside and explain things to them: No, nothing is organic, the owner just tells people everything is organic. No, we don’t even carry decaf espresso, just a plastic container full of excess espresso grounds that fell onto the counter that we sweep up and save and tell people is decaf. Hey, instead of worrying about how you’re going to get two dozen cupcakes before we’re open, maybe you should be worrying about our massive vermin infestation, because if we threw out every cupcake on every tray the mice got into overnight, we’d have nothing left to sell.
You want to say, Oh, one of the kitchen guys got his hand caught in the electric slicer last night and nearly lost a finger and there were bloodstains all over the back room. So I hope they did a really good job cleaning it out, and I hope you enjoy that sandwich.
Now I work for a company where people write letters to the suggestion box complaining that the workers in the employee cafeteria don’t smile at them, and I have the fourth of July off.
The point of this story is that I really miss being able to sabotage the food of people wearing Bush ’04 buttons.
That is all.