It's My Friday!!

Thank the Lord this weekend is almost over!

Most people love the weekend...I DREAD it. Monday is my day off and it starts Tuesday morning with a day shift and escalates towards the weekend with Friday, Saturday and Sunday almost killing me.

Besides working all weekend, my daughter and I went to the cemetery where my parents are buried yesterday and worked for a couple of hours on the plot. We picked up limbs, raked up all the leaves and cut all the weeds with my trusty weed eater. Then we planted irises, lilies and morning glory all around the embankment beside the grave site.

At best...Massey is good company, at worst she is a part time worker. She did wipe off all the headstones when I got through weed eating and dug me a couple of shovel fulls of dirt for the flowers we planted. It really looked nice when we (I) got through and it just makes me feel good to remember my parents with this type of gesture. We have made plans to go back in one month to see what kind of progress our flowers have made...I am really excited about the morning glory seeds we put in. The graveside is right by a twenty foot hill leading down to the country road that runs next to the cemetery. How beautiful it will be when the entire hill is covered with blue morning glory! My neighbor who gave me the seeds assured me that they would take over the side and really spread.

After we finished our gardening, we drove down the old dirt road that leads to where my great great grandmother once had a small house.."Granny's" as we called it when we were kids. We found it by the only marker left...the chimney is still standing amongst the surrounding woods. We got out of the car because Massey wanted to take a picture of the free standing fireplace and chimney. As Massey looked all around us she spotted a house almost in ruins across the road. She said brightly "I wonder if that is where Great Great Grandma's BFF lived"? It made me smile, her sweet take on life and still childlike observations.

It made for a long day...back home to shower , change and go into work til Midnight. I came home and sat down on the sofa in the den and was out in under thirty minutes.

I felt more rested today but had to go in at 3PM...only 1/2 a day to catch my breath before heading back to the seemingly starving and demanding masses. Luckily I had almost all REALLY nice customers. It makes my night so much smoother when I don't get people that are ridiculously high maintenance.

After we were closed, two "official" looking guys came to the front door. They said they were with 'security'. It was the first I had heard so I went to get my manager. We recently got bought out by Darden...who own Olive Garden and Red Lobster. They are switching us over to their computer system from our old one. These two guys were there to install the new system which goes live tomorrow morning.

They seemed more interested in having the bartender show them how to change the channels on the three flat screens than anything and I remarked wittily "LOOK, you aren't being paid to watch TV and if you put it on Telemundo, we'll never get the kitchen help out of here". They both got a chuckle out of that (thank goodness).

When I walked out the door a few minutes later to leave, they were chatting on their cell phones (probably inviting a couple of chicks over to keep them company with the all night set up). I remarked on my way out..."The 'L' Word comes on at 11:30 on Showtime". They both laughed again...come to think of it, they MAY have been on their cell reporting my smart comments to corporate!!

I remember years ago we had a cleaning party at work. The managers had everyone that wanted to, come clean the restaurant after closing from top to bottom...free beer for all of us.

The next morning the manager came in to find two of the Latino cooks asleep under one of the booths (to avoid the motion detector). Come to think of it...that was the LAST cleaning party we had!

I love working with my immigrant friends. They work harder than most Americans I know (they do have a FEW slackers that make it through the fence or tunnel). I have learned more Spanish from the dishwasher and prep guys than I did from 8 years of Spanish class in the school system.

The only thing that bothers me sometimes is the music on their radio or CD's. Number one...isn't the accordian a little outdated for pop music...and why is everything in 3/4 time? ONE TWO THREE ONE TWO THREE ONE TWO THREE. The other night after we were closed and they cranked up their radio...I started hearing Rap music...in ESPANOL!! I asked one of them if this was called "El GANGSTA RAP"??

As usual they all grin sheepishly at me and call me their favorite nickname besides Algodon(spanish for cotton)... "Pelos Parados" Which loosely translated means "spiky hair".

I truly think the reason they like me is because I treat them with respect and treat them as friends. A lot of people I work with treat them like unkowns never even learning their names. I not only learn their names but learn about their families and their culture. I even give some of them nicknames and always ask them if they need something to drink or ask how they are doing. I try to be an amiga! At least I always get a quick response when I need something "on the fly"...that means I need something quickly, usually because I made a goof with an order or I have a Gringo that is too demanding or short of patience. When in Rome...

My Wonderful Mexican Friends

As I have already told you, I work in a restaurant. I don't know about other places in the country, but here in suburban Atlanta, Mexicans are the life blood of the kitchen in a restaurant. Some come and go; some are here to stay , and unfortunately... some are deported. Some are dishwashers... the ones that speak very little English, some are prep guys in the kitchen... we have recipes in Spanish... and some are cooks... that are pretty fluent with the English language. They are ABSOLUTELY the hardest working guys that I have ever met. One case in point. We have two dishwashers on a weekend night... one gets off around ten, and the other closes the store, finishing up the dishes and cleaning up. One night, I got off at midnight, went to my local Walmart to pick up a few groceries, and when I got out of my car, I saw the "early out" dishwasher pressure washing the parking lot at Walmart . He of course said 'HOLA" to me, I treat these guys with a lot of respect.. most of them work about 70 hours a week, for minimum wage, or a little over if they have been with us for a while. Some of them look like they are kids, but are all at least eighteen. I remember when I first started at my restaurant. One of the more brash girls peered through the dish pit window to tell the dishwasher to come and change the garbage cans. She said " I know you can speak English ! " She repeated for him to come change the cans.. he continued to ignore her.. she said once again... CHANGE THE GARBAGE CANS !! He looked through his little view spot from his position in the kitchen with dirty dishes piled all around him , and said (may I quote)... suck my *&#% !! I turned to her and replied.. "hey, you're right!! He CAN speak English." But I am a champion of these guys. They are hard workers, happy to be in America, and working harder than most of the Americans that I work with or see in other low paying jobs. One of my favorite guys is a host with us, seating people and busing tables. As I always chat them up, and inquire as to how they are doing.. He told me that he was in fact very tired that day.... To which I replied.. "Mi Dos" I thought that I had said "me too" but in fact , I said "me two" , which to him was saying the equivalent of " me forty seven ." He just laughed at me, and probably went straight to the back to make fun of me with the other Latinos. Their work ethic is admirable, the country that they come from is dirt poor. Yet they all need to come here in a responsible fashion, and take advantage of what America has to offer.... legally. A lot of my co-workers "poo-poo" these guys. But I always take time out of my shift to ask if they want or need a drink, try to learn some of their language ( which I have learned more of from them , than from my 8 years of Spanish in school). We have nick names for all of them, and listen to their music on their boom boxes that they have cranked up in the kitchen... I did not know that the accordion was still used at all, except in Polka music, but the Latinos seem to live and die by it. Some mornings when I come into work, I will hear a really slow, mellow song; and I will remark to one of the American cooks.. "Is that what they play in a Mexican Dentist office? " But these guys love me.. I respect them, try to have an interest in their day, and more than anything... try to be their friend (amiga). We are truly a melting pot society, and a mix of every race and religion that I can think of. But these guys are my friends, they are my co-workers, and they are part of my life.. which makes me once again realize how lucky and blessed that I am to not only live here, but to have all my papers in order. My biggest fear is who's going to be in the White House next!!