The New Job . . .
Along with the big move also came the jump to the new job â€“ which just happens to be the old job. You see â€“ you see â€“ the job that was now officially is the job that . . . uhm â€“ is. Itâ€™s also the job I wonâ€™t be able to go into â€“ or mention ever again â€“ for fear of repercussions . . . they sometimes break knees up in these parts â€“ and I do so enjoy all of the time that I spend with my unbroken knees.
With all of that being said â€“ I do feel that I am slightly at liberty to share one or two quick asides from my first day at work that wonâ€™t cross over any company lines. The very first thing that I noticed â€“ 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 â€“ they were all their and â€“ frankly â€“ they were still awesome. The one thing that I’d notice that was shocking was when Frank (oh jeez â€“ I guess that I shouldnâ€™t mention names â€“ but this guy really took me under his wing and showed me the ropes on the first day â€“ so why not give credit where credit is due I say?!) took me over to the grease vat â€“ which was already at a rolling boil . . . and the place hadnâ€™t even opened yet. Evidently they had gotten some new burners for the fryers â€“ 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 â€˜Pacoâ€™ the kitchen cat sauntered over my way and started to my butt his head against my leg â€“ no doubt trying to entice a good scratch behind the ears â€“ but I had learned my lesson years before when after trying to give â€˜Pacoâ€™ a pretty little pat â€“ the only thanks that I received in return were a few well placed claws and teeth and claws for my troubles . . . boy that â€˜Pacoâ€™ sure can be ornery sometimes!
All right â€“ 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 â€“ with the same pillows, the same throw â€“ and of course â€“ the same old sham.
Sorry if the end got a mite flowery with the imagery there â€“ but truth to be told . . . getting back into the trenches â€“ well the experience is just really tough to put in words . . . simply put . . . it is just the bomb.