The New Job . . .

Along with the big move also came the jump to the new job – which just happens to be the old job. You see – you see – the job that was now officially is the job that . . . uhm – is. It’s also the job I won’t be able to go into – or mention ever again – for fear of repercussions . . . they sometimes break knees up in these parts – and I do so enjoy all of the time that I spend with my unbroken knees.

With all of that being said – I do feel that I am slightly at liberty to share one or two quick asides from my first day at work that won’t cross over any company lines. The very first thing that I noticed – after tying on the old brown on tan apron is that the place really seemed to be much unchanged . . . the sounds, the camaraderie, the smells – they were all their and – frankly – they were still awesome. The one thing that I’d notice that was shocking was when Frank (oh jeez – I guess that I shouldn’t mention names – but this guy really took me under his wing and showed me the ropes on the first day – so why not give credit where credit is due I say?!) took me over to the grease vat – which was already at a rolling boil . . . and the place hadn’t even opened yet. Evidently they had gotten some new burners for the fryers – and boy but those babies could pump out some serious flame!
I was so excited to get my hands on the controls of the new equipment that I hardly even noticed when ‘Paco’ the kitchen cat sauntered over my way and started to my butt his head against my leg – no doubt trying to entice a good scratch behind the ears – but I had learned my lesson years before when after trying to give ‘Paco’ a pretty little pat – the only thanks that I received in return were a few well placed claws and teeth and claws for my troubles . . . boy that ‘Paco’ sure can be ornery sometimes!

All right – I have definitely said enough about the job . . . but it sure does feel nice to fall back into the sheets of nostalgia to find that the bed is still the same bed – with the same pillows, the same throw – and of course – the same old sham.

Sorry if the end got a mite flowery with the imagery there – but truth to be told . . . getting back into the trenches – well the experience is just really tough to put in words . . . simply put . . . it is just the bomb.