If you're dealing with counties that have been a social conservative lock for decades, then yes, it's EXACTLY like being in the 1970s.Work has been something else since the announcement of another vote (After the last one failed to an LGBT controversy with some more conservative customers who went to the press). I am in full crisis control mode and it's actually been half exhilirating and half exhausting trying to put together an entire campaign in the last three days of one of the biggest votes that I'll ever be personally responsible for, and where the result has huge ramifications on my personal life. That's not the rant. The rant is me going out to one of the communities voting and having one person threaten to kick my ass, and then right after I get into a yelling match with the mayor. Seriously, did I drop back into the 1970s where Muslims and Gays are the devil!?
I worked at a Wendy's for one summer as my first job - I still can't eat any of their food almost 20 years later other than the "Frosty."That's just unnatural. I worked for Olive Garden for 6 weeks in high school and the thought of eating there makes me nauseous to this day.
That's pretty much how my taco bell was, too.I worked at a Chili's for a few years...and the place was fucking spotless and the food was rotated properly, marked properly, and cross contamination was a no-no. I don't know if it's every Chili's or just the one I was at, but I'd eat the food there if they dropped it on the floor for more than 5 seconds and served it to me. It was that clean. Every night after closing, we'd take the entire kitchen apart - overhead vents, fryers, everything - clean it and put it back together again, then we'd wipe down ALL the walls and dump cans of soapy water to scrub the everyloving crap out of the floor. Yeah, you got out really late after closing, but you knew the place was spotless.
I started as one of the salad cooks and ended as the head line cook. So I was responsible for making sure everything was plated correctly and cooked right. I was amazingly good at it, considering I'm not that good of a cook outside ofOh don't get me wrong, the Olive Garden was as clean and well run as you could expect most restaurants to be (granted, cleaning the women's room was blood-drenched horror and half the managers were on crystal meth, but still). The reason I can't eat at the Olive Garden, or the "Oh Gee" as my friends would call it, is because it supersaturated me. Hours and hours with all this stuff all around, all over you, having to scoop it out with your hands (I was in the dish pit)... coming home every night reeking of sweat and ricotta cheese. Go faster, spray it with that scalding water, load that rack, shove it in the machine, stand knee deep in that alfredo while an avalanche of chicken fingers falls on you because bussers don't give a shit.. Gaagghh. Can't do it. Can't. Can't do it.