A woman today got angry at me for unstopping the toilet. It was slow that day, and even though it was just me and our cook that shift, I thought I should take the time to unstop it, before someone came along an made it worse. In much the same way that someone always dumps something in the unlined bins in between the time I walk away to take the bag to the Dumpster and the time I return with a new bin liner. Unstopping the toilet did not take long, but nevertheless a customer arrived while I was doing it. Now, plunging a toilet is fairly noisy, and it involves loud squelching and splashing noises that may pique the interest of anyone standing outside the door. Which is what probably prompted my customer, (tactful, as always,) to say this upon my exit from the bathroom:
"What on Earth was going on in there?"
What are you expecting to hear, lady? What good could come from asking a question like that? "I was unstopping the toilet. Don’t worry, I washed my hands thoroughly." I did, and even though I thought my hands were clean enough, I would have rather not had to tell anyone for whom I was going to handle food what I was just doing.
"And you’re just going to go over there and handle my food?"
"I'll be wearing gloves."
"I don't care! You should keep someone around for that."
"We can't afford to hire anyone else. It's just me and our cook today."
The woman then proceed to point towards the man in the white shirt, white apron, and white bow-tie,* whom had just come out of the kitchen, and whom was carrying a large stew pot, a man whom looked quite a bit like a cook, and said, "Well what about him! He should be unclogging the toilet."
"Ma'am, that man is our cook."
At which point she sputtered and left. May I point out that our cook is from El Salvador, perhaps her statement was made because she was a racist, something I have encountered at this restaurant in the past, seeing as all three of our cooks are Latin American, (all three from El Salvador, actually. No relation to each other.)
Seeing as our kitchen is pretty much open-air, (nothing but a chin-height tiled partition seperates it from the dining room,) people in the past have gotten angry at us for what they believed to be unsanitary handling of their food. Believe me, I've worked in far filthier restaurants. This place is all glazed white tile and stainless steel.
*He doesn't have to wear the tie, but he does anyway. The man has style.
"What on Earth was going on in there?"
What are you expecting to hear, lady? What good could come from asking a question like that? "I was unstopping the toilet. Don’t worry, I washed my hands thoroughly." I did, and even though I thought my hands were clean enough, I would have rather not had to tell anyone for whom I was going to handle food what I was just doing.
"And you’re just going to go over there and handle my food?"
"I'll be wearing gloves."
"I don't care! You should keep someone around for that."
"We can't afford to hire anyone else. It's just me and our cook today."
The woman then proceed to point towards the man in the white shirt, white apron, and white bow-tie,* whom had just come out of the kitchen, and whom was carrying a large stew pot, a man whom looked quite a bit like a cook, and said, "Well what about him! He should be unclogging the toilet."
"Ma'am, that man is our cook."
At which point she sputtered and left. May I point out that our cook is from El Salvador, perhaps her statement was made because she was a racist, something I have encountered at this restaurant in the past, seeing as all three of our cooks are Latin American, (all three from El Salvador, actually. No relation to each other.)
Seeing as our kitchen is pretty much open-air, (nothing but a chin-height tiled partition seperates it from the dining room,) people in the past have gotten angry at us for what they believed to be unsanitary handling of their food. Believe me, I've worked in far filthier restaurants. This place is all glazed white tile and stainless steel.
*He doesn't have to wear the tie, but he does anyway. The man has style.
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