Reality Check

People can be so mean about such insignificant stuff. Today at work Crystal, the only waitress working the shift, got chewed out by this woman who's salad came out late. It wasn't as if Crystal meant it as a personal affront to the woman. She just needed to make another salad (there weren't any pre-prepared as we had been slammed with salad orders of all things!) So, the woman got really angry. And probably didn't leave a tip, and blessed out Crystal, and probably went home mad. A late salad probably ruined her whole evening.

Meanwhile in the Palestine, innocent peoples' evenings are being ruined by military bulldozers knocking their houses over.

I feel like that point could have been made more clearly and more delicately. Oh well. I'm not really in the mood to revise.

The Legend of Jack, Super Master Grill Operator

My grill-op training is nearly complete. I worked second shift yesterday for the first time (2PM-9PM EST). And I can probably expect to be working second shift most of the time for this first little bit. It's not busy at all then. Most of what the cooks do during second shift is actually prep. work for the next twenty-four hours at the store. So, yesterday I learned how to slice and dice onions properly, to slice tomatos, make pots of grits (!) chili and soup. Also, I learned the finer points of thawing out hasbrowns in their big cartons, and mixing waffle batter. (Dude! They make the waffles with half and half!)

Yesterday I was working with this grill op named Tommy who is 19 years old. He has his blue star certification (which means that supposedly he can cook at least $200 of food per hour by himself and $250 with a grill op apprentice like me at his side) Tommy is looking to go to a culinary arts school next year. He says, probably Asheville Buncombe Technical Community College (which has one of the best programs in the country) or a school in Charlotte, Johnson & Wales, which he says is probably in the top three in the country. Anyway, Tommy's a good kid. I feel like I can refer to him as a kid since I'm three years older than him. But I have a lot of respect for the work that he does. I'll be lucky to get blue-star certified over the course of the summer. I'll have a lot to lear first. And Tommy's are big shoes to fill: my boss, Skinner, says Tommy is one of the best prep cooks he knows, that he does some of the best diced onions he's seen in the district.

Between slicing and dicing and prep-ing in general Tommy would share some anecdotes about his experience at Waffle House in the last year and a half, the people he'd met, the individuals who liked to tip the cook for a quality cheesesteak. At one point (between divulging the recipie for Burt's chili and cooking the third pot of grits I think) Tommy told the story of Jack. Jack is no ordinary man. And I couldn't help smiling at the gleam of reverence in Tommy's eyes when he related Jack's tale. "You see," said Tommy, "Jack is the ONLY Super Master Grill Op in the region." I had no idea these Super Master guys were so few and far between. Apparently Jack travels around sharing his wisdom with other grill ops in the WaHo family. But Jack is not one to be fucked with. No, no. According to Tommy, Jack can flip a pan of over-light eggs behind his back and up into the air such that they sommersault three full times before he catches them in the pan again, not breaking a single yolk. Needless to say, I was duely impressed. Jack is certainly a master of his trade. And I, of course, still can't flip over-light eggs at all. I have to rely on a second pan, gingerly rolling my eggs from one to the other, and send up a silent prayer.

Perhaps I'll hear more of Jack the Super Master Grill Op. Perhaps I'll even get to meet him this summer. He travels around a lot.

Here again, is a list of other things I want to cover in future blog entires.

Baby Daddies
Baby Mammas
In the ring versus scattered hashbrowns
How Do we like our eggs?
Am I the first vegetarian to work at the waffle house?
Waffle House versus McDonalds

Also, did you know that Waffle House cooks 2% of the eggs produced in the United States annually? Dang!

Cross Burning

I have learned so much in the last couple of days working at WaHo--so much that I unfortunately will not be able to include in this particular post. I feel like I've ben postponing more than I've actually been posting lately.

I wanted to take a moment to bring to the blogsphere's attention some really effed up shit that went down last night in Durham, NC, where I go to school.

Crosses Burned

Sure, I've encountered racism and ignorance all over my home state. Even in the last couple of days at work a couple of individuals have made comments to me which I considered to be pretty biggoted. These cases of ignorance have always seemed weak or vestigial--perhaps more often the result of troubled childhood. But that racists and homophobes would band together in acts of violent intimidation is too much. I don't know what to do with this anymore. It angers and frustrates me to no end. I guess I can only lead by example and continue to express my own frustrations, fears, and rages constructively and creatively.

"I will use what I learn in class constructively and defensively and NEVER be abusive or offensive...." --KI Student Creed

Ken Rumble has also blogged the Durham Cross Burning on the Desert City blog.

Sheesh!

My manager, Steve Skinner, covered for somebody 3rd shift last night, so he wasn't around this morning. And, as a result, I spent all morning (0700 to 1400 EST) on the floor learning how to drop waffles, toast, hashbrowns and breakfast meat. I also got started learning the Waffle House "Magic Marker" System which I will reveal as soon as I am able to scan this crib sheet in.

A spoon means, hold the toast. I forgot what a knife means (crap!).

When I got home (approx. 1430 EST) I began to finish installing the rest of the Pergo flooring in my bedroom. My dad and I finished the floor around 2000 EST, grabbed some dinner from the Apollo Flame Bistro (Greek carry out--yummy!), watched the first half hour of "Don't Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood," and now I'm so tired that my fingers are having trouble finding the home keys. Sheesh!

More to come (hopefully tomorrow).

Also, I am considering changing the actual title of this blog to "grits and eggs." Scattered, Smothered, Covered does have a nice ring to it, but I feel like it's overdone. (See the entry entitled "What this blog ain't.")

Training Day

I arrived at WaHo this morning ten minutes early, at around 7:50AM EST. I get one free meal for each 4 hours I work. My boss, Steve Skinner, suggested I come in a half-hour early to eat breakfast the mornings I work, which suits me fine. Then, of course, that way there's no chance I'll be late to work. I was so tired from the Carrboro Poetry Festival and driving home yesterday, I think it was the first evening I'd been to bed before midnight in the last six months. By the same token, this morning I think was one of the first times I'd been awake before 10:00AM EST. There's so much daylight that I've simply been missing sleeping so late. Then again, I missed a lot of moonlight last night going to bed at 11 o'clock. Oh well.

Today was my first day of Waffle House training. Which normally means watching 6 or 7 15-30 minute training videos. But since I am "cross-training" as both a Grill Operator and a salesperson, I got to watch 11 15-30 minute training videos! These videos are designed to teach Waffle House Employees how to work safely and efficiently, and to recognize sexual harassment and racial discrimination in the work place. There were also some additional videos about the proper way to do things like wash dishes and broadcast subliminal messages by arranging eggs on the plate in certain ways. The video about dishwashing was called "Dirty Dishes" and the opening music was that song "Time of My Life." Plus, I kid you not, the guy in the video looked exactly like the young Patrick Swayze. That was one of the more entertaining training videos.

Today I also got a cool little Grill Operator crib sheet that has all the coded markings that WaHo uses in the preparation of the orders. My boss told me I couldn't post it on the internet or he'd send someone to my house to break my knees. I'm going to post it anyway though--in the name of journalism. It's a really interesting document. It's just a little pocket-sized piece of cardboard; but it contains all of the most precious secrets of the WaHo grill operators. I'll try to have that picture up shortly.

Poetry and Minimum Wage

I just returned from the Carrboro Poetry Festival which was incredible! There ought to be some audio recordings available from that in the near future. Everyone did SUCH a great job. The hosts in Carrboro threw an excellent party complete with a tent, moonshine, and Marlon Brando.

You may be wondering what all this has to do with the Waffle House. Frankly, the above paragraph has very little to do with the Waffle House. Nonetheless, tomorrow is my very first day on the job. My boss notified me over the phone that there would be approximately a week of training (as both a grill operator and salesperson). Apparently I'll only be making minimum wage for this first week (that's US$5.15 per hour). And then my salary as a grill operator will be determined by my boss given my facility with a spatula after the first week. I could then begin making as much as US$6.80 per hour, with the potential for raises over the course of the summer. The minimum I will be paid as a grill operator after the first week of training is US$6.20 per hour.

Here's an interesting side note. According to the AFL-CIO US$5.15 per hour is the Federal minimum wage, which North Carolina seems to be dutifully adhering to. Some states offer more, notably Alaska, Washington, and Oregon which offer US$7.15, 7.25 and 7.35 respectively. Here's another fun fact about minimum wage from the AFL-CIO webpage dealing with that topic:

"If the wage had just kept pace with inflation since 1968 when it was a US$1.60 an hour, minimum wage would be US $8.88 an hour in 2005."

My part-time job at a Starbucks franchise at Duke University during the academic year (which I thought paid pretty well) only pays US$8.00 per hour. And since it's on campus they won't let us earn tips. At least as a Waffle House salesperson you can earn upwards of US$6.00 per hour in tips during a busy shift.

That's all for today. I am pooped! I'll leave you with a quick rundown of some issues I want to address in subsequent entries:

1. What is the difference between a grill operator and a short-order cook? a salesperson and a waiter/tress?
2. I want to delve more deeply into the semiotics of some of the names of WaHo menu items...
2A. What does it mean to be scattered? smothered? covered? etc.
2B. Why are certain menu items trademarked and not others?
3. To my knowledge there is no such thing as a non-smoking WaHo (in North Carolina anyway).
4. What's in the jukebox?
4A. Why are classic jukeboxes so effing cool?
4B. The Japanese obviously invented the jukebox. I mean, just look at 'em!
5. Grease
6. Cooking chicken.
7. The WaHo short order lingo.
8. What do martial arts and working at the Waffle House have in common?
9. More on the application process.
10. Yo mamma so fat...
11. Where the trailer park ends.
12. White male rage.
13. Wallace Stevens and Waffle House.
14. These kids today.
15. Meat sweat: is this cheesesteak-related phenomenon really what you think it is?
16. Why Waffle House is superior to Huddle House, Denny's, Shoney's, and the International House of pancakes.

What This Blog Ain't

This blog is not a tribute to the Hootie & the Blowfish Record "Scattered, Smothered & Covered. Note the distinct lack of an ampersand.

Prologue

I am an over-ambitious, disillisioned, idealistic Duke University undergraduate.

I have set up this blog in order to chronicle a summer spent (doing among other things) working as a grill operator and salesperson at my local Waffle House in Asheville, North Carolina.

Stay Tuned.