Case of the Exploding Ketchup, Finale;
A long weekend; two days off in a row may seem meager but it is plenty enough to relax with and perhaps pursue an activity outside of work. I had an enjoyable and relaxing two days off. Really Two Days is the bare minimum for a proper rest period. Otherwise you can either just catch up on sleep or do something soul-enriching but not both. Having many activities available to me I decided upon physical exercise and pursuant to that decision I lifted several different objects of varying weight and in random order. The other activity I pursued was drinking with friends, an age old occurrence.
After beginning my new week I concentrated not on discovering spots left uncleaned since my absence and little did I know that I would be thrown under the bus; put out to pasture nearly, with only my wits to save me. There are plenty of Dish-Washing Stories that go unwritten, albeit valid and interesting.
The following is the conclusion of the Case of the Exploding Ketchup.
Speaking Frankly I knew I had the odds stacked against me on the 2nd day of my break. I had gone to a neighborhood bar and encountered friends from work who told me of stories of additional explosions of Ketchup.
"Wheeler you are blowing it up, no way it was that many," I said rebuking his assumption that I had setup the explosions deliberately.
"Dude you do the ketchup and 9 bottles in a row erupt, fucking 9!"
He had calmed a tad and we hung out and drank several beers. We parted upon ordering a round of shots with a third coworker.
One thing to mention about working as a closing dishwasher; I lived the life of a vampire.
I would arrive at home around three in the morning and sleep within 2 hours of unlocking the door. Waking up at four in the afternoon for my next shift which began in 2 hours from my eyes opening, lent me to a lifestyle void of sunlight in the winter. This particular arrangement made me glad I was working closing shift during the summer schedule.
I arrived 25 minutes early, the maximum early you can get. I headed straight for the voice I knew belonged to The Don.
Masquerading as a man with a purpose other than to be exposed, I strove forward and inquired to those hanging around as to the matters of the day: were we busy, was there a sports event, and/or college activity. The Don ignored me at first and within 10 minutes approached me with rather disruptive news...
"Desmond come over here," The Don beckoned while I had passed looking to replace my empty bus tubs with full ones.
"What's up?"
"Not what's up, what happened, the Ketchup you replaced exploded all over the place..."
"I just used the olde...," before 2 seconds I was interrupted.
"You used the old stuff in the walk-in cooler I know. This isnt my first rodeo kid. I was telling the servers if they cant fill all the bottles then just use the kitchen squeeze bottles. Dont use that stuff for the bottles, those air-tight lids promote fermentation and therefore explosions after a due time. We had so many because you were the only person to think to use the oldest stock first. Throw it away next time!," The Don ranted as I set there between the Dishpit and Coffee Station stunned.
"Will Do Sir!"
Thus concluded the Case of the Exploding Ketchup.