Case of the Exploding Ketchup Day 3;
Nothing happened. Not a lot happens in the Dishpit. You scrape then rinse dishes and push em through the Machine. Sometimes you must soak a Dish or use good ole elbow grease. But in this Case Nothing was not a terrible thing. I was at least spared a syrupy mess.
Everything being ended in a dramatic fashion, we continue on with everyone in a slightly better mood than the last two days. Telling from the amount of bus patrons and cars on the road I could expect a slower shift than usual, which after the last couple of shifts was a welcome sight.
Walking in and taking a right past the bathrooms into the Kitchen, I ran into nothing at all. Again not a lot happens in the Dishpit besides Washing Dishes.
Scrape, Rinse, Load Dish Machine.
That was my usual routine. Day in and Day out. The fool is he who randomly grabs dishes and runs them through the Machine. They Disrespect the Machine! But I treat my Machine well and it treats me well. Knowing the extent of ones mechanical allies is pertinent to being a Dishwasher. Perhaps I am over-analyzing it much but when Nothing is going on in one's mind, It does wander and it is important to keep It on track.
Today saw myself facing a whole new crew. CW and Wheeler both were on their Fridays yesterday, and Shannah being on her Sunday today meant that we would have to remember details about newer staff members. This was not necessarily disappointing.
One of our nite-time prep Chefs, Matt, was asked to pull a double as a previous Chef had called in sick and upset the chain of events; business as usual.
"Yo Matt, what you preppin today?"
"Everything. Cant believe Alan called in sick and nobody could cover. Ive been here since 8."
"Jeez guy, how many hours you at this week?"
"Damn near 50, all good though I could use the money."
That was the go to excuse in everybody's mind to justify working more hours than is appropriate. But of course money being the all powerful motivator it is, most people accept the duty and continue about business as ordinary.
I myself was hitting 42 hours already at the beginning of a shift, so not much I could say if this day turns out to be different than I had imagined it would.
"Went to another party this weekend," Matt mentioned nonchalantly.
This was often a ruse to an exciting story but I was recovering from the last anecdote still so I rattled off an excuse, "Guy give me a few man, need to get a cuppa before that crazyness."
I walked past the now acceptable Walk-In Cooler and to the Coffee Station, grabbing myself the pot of coffee and pouring a cup. Unmentioned prior to now, the Coffee Station offers any participant an excellent view of most of the restaurant. From either angle you could spot to nearly entrance to exit. As a Dishwasher this helped me look for Dishes. As for our kindly servers they could measure the volume of liquid remaining in a glass and the amount of food left on a plate. Sometimes people would search for other employees to strike up a conversation.
I found the server from before who the Don had accused of shaking the Ketchup.
"Hey Linsey," I said as I sipped a slightly burning to the tongue sip of coffee.
"Desmond, right? Sorry about yesterday."
I had always consulted the schedule in its posted area at the end of a shift; it was a great way to deduce who you were working with that night. Linsey had skill enough to serve but not the confidence to realize it.
"All good but I tried shaking the Ketchup and nothing happened."
"I told you! The Don was super mad."
"Im sure you are fine. I have seen worse happen and everyone else told him that wasnt the first time."
"Still."
She continued on her way now that the food she had been waiting to serve exited the Kitchen.
"Yo Ike, hows it like?"
Ike the Cook of The Day carries the real name of Ichabod Mithaniel Bruce. Being the oddest of combinations he simply went by Ike. Ike was alright.
"Slow as molasses Des, been sittin on ass want to cook?"
He was the only one who called me Des, although a few others did call me D occasionally.
"Im kidding you," he said as he glanced the worried expression on my face.
"Man dont scare me like that, we got Matt here for a reason."
It was at this moment that the Ticket machine burst into printing. Ike jumped into action eagerly awaiting something to lift the calm.
After further discussions with the Bartender who was currently stocking Liquor, and Jamie the Floor Manager at the time, I understood that the day had proceeded at a Snail's pace. Sometimes Summer days can take all your customers away. I understood having wanted to been outside, but what can you do.
This might have been the reason I was able to ponder the matter of the Exploding Ketchup thoroughly. The Dishpit and Machine were essentially not touched from the previous night. So half my work was done. It was often more than not that it took my full week to clean up the mess of the people who worked during my two days off.
I checked off the clues I had gathered thus far and how I know them:
1. A little bit or a lot doesnt matter according to Wheeler who denoted that the Exploding Ketchup turns into a pink mist with even half full bottles.
2. The Ketchup does not explode due to being shaken, as I discovered near the end of Day 2 during my Ketchup Bottle Experiment.
After Matt had left around 10pm, and I had finished all his Dishes around 10:15pm I began to clean empty and power off my Dish Machine which takes always nearly an hour. Between cleaning and closing my Dishpit area, I had managed to sneak a side chat with Jamie concerning the Ketchup matter.
"Slow nights kill me," she said as exited the Kitchen hung a quick left and saw her consolidating condiments.
"Tell me about it, what is this I hear about ketchup blowing up?" This was said as she was loading Ketchup Bottles into a 24 quart bin to be stored in the Walk In Cooler. Once we left, the Air Conditioning Unit providing us with cool air to combat the Summer heat would be shut down and temperatures would soar.
"You going to stay around and drink tonight?" She inquired this shortly before I could respond to the previous question. This was often the way in which she spoke and I found it confusing.
"Um Maybe, yea Blowing up Ketchup."
Perhaps due to her being extraordinarily attractive I found the response above to be all I could muster, but what was plainly visible was the quaint diamond ring on her left ring finger. Dream as I may I came back to my senses but not before another third question.
"Someone was blowing up ketchup?"
"No, I mean yea Ketchup was erupting but nobody knows why."
This prompted this brave woman to immediately open several bottles of Ketchup and in the 8 she opened not one exploded. Almost disappointingly she looked at me with a giggle and I laughed off the matter. Towards the end of the night the Bartender Jamie and I had shots and beers to cap off the beginning of the week. Jamie was often the life of the party.
Going home I pondered not the matter of the Case of the Exploding Ketchup, but instead just eagerly awaited the restful slumber of a small bed warmed up by an old cat.