clap your hands!

I realized today when I awoke, that I am happy every single day that I don't have to go back to Applebee's, everyday! I am really beginning to wonder why I waited so long to leave that place. This blog really only got an overview of the innards of the Bee's and if I had started it earlier in my Applebee's career it/and I probably would have evolved a lot more. But, instead this blog really helped me see that I don't need to be miserable to make money, no one does. 

So on that note, back to the grind... I start my new job today! What a fitting way to start off the summer. I have a feeling this may be last post. But, I am going to see how it goes this week and see if this blog is worth continuing. If not I may start again. Who knows!
All I know is I am happy, for now...


:)

Bad news is, we sing off key...

Before my life as a waitress, I used to spend a lot of time doing community theater. When I say a lot of time I mean basically, it was my life. When I wasn't on stage I was singing in a choir or at dance class. My life fully revolved around performing and I used to think I wanted to be a famous actress someday. I had big dreams of moving to New York and really "making it." Then one day I realized I wanted to be famous for all the wrong reasons and abandoned the idea. I wasn't an actress. I just like to tell stories and make people think differently. Theater helped me do that in the most direct way.


But the point of this post was actually about Applebee's. I know, I fooled you.
As most everyone knows Applebee's does something a little special for birthdays. 
I say special, but not incredibly unique. 
If you tell your server it is your, or someone at your tables, birthday they will get a crew together, come out of the kitchen clapping and singing and give you a free dessert!
Hooray...


Most servers despise this. Seriously, it is kind of grueling, singing and clapping over and over again all day. Not to mention trying to get other servers to come sing with you. AND you have to go make that free dessert yourself. To be honest, and most servers would agree with this, it is some of the worst news you could ever hear from your table.


But personally, even with all the annoying stuff that goes with it.
I love singing the birthday song. Love love love it. Wether it is my table or not! 
It is one thing I do miss a little from the Bee's. Probably because it was my one chance to actually perform again for an audience. As little and pathetic as it was. It was still something I don't get to do very often anymore. Maybe this is my que to get back into theater? We'll see. 

3 Regrets

I've decided, I only have 3 "regrets" from quitting my job at the Bee's. 

I say "regrets" because I try not to have any, about anything, but I digress...

1. 

Bad timing. I left a few days before payday and didn't get my last paycheck ... Also I'm too chicken to go back in right now... I don't do so well with confrontation, or people yelling at me, as you know.

2.

One thing that I had been waiting patiently for the whole time I worked at Applebee's was the day we went to a non-smoking restaurant. I have nothing against smokers, lots of my friends smoke, but I have to say I think it ruins food and I don't really want to work eight hours in second hand smoke.
Not only that, but if you work the smoking section you are rarely as busy as the rest of the restaurant. Mostly, it's depressing. You run your butt of for everyone else while you have only one table! A table consisting of one cranky chain smoking lady I might add.


 3.
I'm kind of poor right now...  but I'm working on it!


So that's not too bad. I also feel a little terrible for anyone I screwed over by not showing up that day but Buddah knows I did my fair share of covering for other people. I hope it wasn't too traumatic. But I'm sure the world of Applebee's survived just fine with out me and will continue to do so. 




Update.
While I was writing this, my fiancee handed me an envelope from Applebee's. "It's probably a bill for your uniform" he added. "I payed for my uniform!" I responded while tearing open the thin paper. Surprise surprise! My last paycheck!
$54.21


Now I can eat today! 

Ba-donck a donckers.

Good news!
It looks like I might have some prospective employment! My fiancee works at a local candy shop and restaurant called Doncker's. It is one of the oldest businesses in our town and makes some drop dead delectable foods. Anyways it looks like I'm going to be able to pick up some shifts behind the candy counter/ soda fountain. So basically, I'll be a soda jerk. Which is pretty much awesome.
Of course, I will be probably be taking a massive pay-cut... but money isn't everything right?
Right.
Plus I knew that when I left the Bee's.
So I haven't started training or anything but it is my understanding I will be making shakes and sundaes, old fashion sodas and floats and selling candy and toys. I'm kind of super pumped. I think I get to wear a little hat and maybe even an apron!? 
Score.

Oh no! My leftovers...

So I went out to eat the other day and as usual, I couldn't finish it all. Although the delicious mudslide "appetizer" probably had something to do with it. So I got the remaining food boxed to go, which I was really excited to have for the next day's lunch. But, me being me, I forgot to bring my leftovers home with me. There they were, sitting in a little box inside of a bag on an empty table. 

I hate when that happens. Of course that got me thinking about Applebee's which I still do all the time. It's hard to let go of something that you used to completely fill your head and life with.

But when I first started at the Bee's I was hired as a host. So I spent all day cleaning up tables and seating guests. At this time there were a few hosts that don't work there anymore that used to do this thing... it still kind of grosses me out to think of it. When guests would leave their leftovers, we would usually take them to the host stand and write the table number on the box. Then we wait for about an hour or so and if they don't come back for it (which people rarely do) we would toss it. 

But if it was something delicious, or easily accessible, like mozzarella sticks or chicken quesadillas these hosts would stick the box under the stand and whenever they had the opportunity just squat down in hiding and eat some!

I remember the first time I saw someone do this, I couldn't believe it. Although I totally understand being starving at work, I couldn't justify eating some stranger's leftovers. Who knows what they did to it... probably nothing, but you never know right?

So, I guess the point is, I couldn't help but picture someone else eating my food and it made me sad. 


 I still think about Applebee's more than I'd like to. Weird little memories like this one or the sudden fear that I am late for work will pop into my head on occasion. But I figure they will go away eventually. They're like my leftovers, most of which I wish I would have left at the tables. But there are some good memories too. I've made some lovely friends and learned a lot about working under pressure, so I guess I'm better for it. 

I miss paper.

Dear prospective employer,

Can't I just come in and talk to you about how great I am? Do I really need to fill out all these forms?

Love, Me

One thing I totally forgot about quitting my job was that I was going to have to fill out so many applications! The hardest part is trying to remember all my previous work info... dates and wages, stuff like that. But, I did do the smart thing and write all the info down and saved it on my laptop. Now  it's just a click away! Which comes in handy since a plethora of applications are online these days. (Ohh I just used the word plethora!)

I understand the advantages of going paper less, I do. But it is just like the Kindle, I have trouble accepting it. Maybe I like my hand cramping up as I finish my 16th application. Plus, how will I show off my pretty handwriting? And maybe I need to feel a book in my hands, and smell it as I turn each page  (Physically?!)

Could it be that I like not having 10,000 choices and I like being forced to suck it up and finish what I started!? Maybe I'm just stubborn but, I miss paper.

Back to applications...

I was also thinking, how awful it would be to have to check that little box that says you HAVE been convicted of a felony. Especially if it was something you did when you were young (MIP?) and have to write that on there now for the rest of your life!

Rough.

Anyway,

I've been applying at mostly retail places but my heart is softening back up to the idea of working with food. I've realized, it's not the serving, the food, the picky eaters or messy guests that get to me. It is the way the place is run, by who and how they treat me. I actually really like serving! It can be a lot of fun and really rewarding. So, I might apply at a couple of restaurants but I haven't decided yet.

Just enjoying my non-Applebee's life :)

I quit.

Yes that's right. I quit. 

After weeks of asking to not host anymore I was scheduled a hosting double on Saturday(the only host on a scheduled double I might add.) So, instead of doing the responsible thing and putting in my two weeks notice, I decided I didn't want to suffer through it only to make maybe ... 50 dollars? (Also, it was my Dad’s birthday, but that just added to it)

 So I put on my stubborn face and ignored my conscience. And it feels pretty good. Now, the hunt begins to find a new job! I'm not sure if I want to work in the food industry anymore, the money is good but it is soul crushing. I just don't think I can take it anymore. I feel like it is time for a change, and a new background!

Hopefully, I can still find a job with an apron.

Wish me luck!

10 minutes to blast off

I think maybe some people can't tell time?
Like, when a table walks in when it is 10 minutes to close on a Saturday night. 
So I give some people the benefit of the doubt and think maybe they just cant read the clock, or possibly the sign outdoors that says we close in ten minutes. And by the way, that means ten minutes.
It does not mean your inside before we lock the door, so now you can sit as long as you want and wait for 3 other people to show up (15 minutes after close) before ordering.
It doesn't mean you order 5 well done steaks.
It doesn't mean you get to yell at me across the restaurant just because you are the only table still here.
It does not mean you should order a dessert 45 minutes after the kitchen has closed and make me beg the cooks to still make it.
It also doesn't mean you tip $7 on a $85 dollar bill.


Thanks :)

5 places I'd rather be...

5 places I'd rather be than at Applebee's


1. The beach- Mmm, obviously.
2. At school -Yes I would even choose sitting in class all day.
3. Sleeping- I've got a thing for naps.
4. Reading/writing/painting- anything creative. Applebee's numbs my mind into strictly robotic words and actions.
5. Anywhere else. 

I guess that doesn't really reveal much that I didn't already know. 
I need a new job, this is clear. But what? 


Requirements/hopes for my new job


1. Close enough to bike to (not really a requirement but it would be great!)
2. At least 20 hours a week
3. Nice/respectful managers and coworkers (maybe that's too much to ask...)
4. A window? 


So that's it! 
Let the hunt begin

The pointers.

Are you one of them!? 
Oh yes. I'm talking about, "The Pointers." 
They are those people at my tables that won't, say, anything. 


"How are you doing tonight?" I ask to a deadpan table, usually not even bothering to look up at me. "Are you ready to order?" crickets.


I'm really not asking for much here, maybe a smile or a nod in my general direction. Anything, to make me feel acknowledged. So I that know, I can either walk away or continue standing here awkwardly. 
Then, when it comes time to order, they look down at their menu and point, 
"I'll have that." 
Sometimes I wonder if it's because they can't read. 


I then have to lean over them, try to figure out what it was they had pointed to and then write it down. 
I would totally understand if I worked in say, a French or Mexican restaurant or something similar.
 If there was some reason they don't know how to say "chicken fingers," I would understand. 
Maybe they just like having me lean over them?
But my guess is, they can say chicken fingers just fine.

Walk this way.

There are some songs that are just so damn fun to walk to. 
If you've ever been a server you have to know what I mean. There are some songs that you just can't help but step in time with. When one of these comes on, I can feel my self stepping with the beat, even unintentionally. It takes everything in me not to just dance up and down the isles sometimes.
 Someone should make a soundtrack for servers. 


The funny thing is, it's not usually a song I like. I'm generally a big fan of classic rock and I guess you could say alternative or indie music. I'm not usually lucky enough to have those play while I'm working. But even if we did. it's not really the same. There's something about awful, fast, lyric lacking music that just makes the shift go by faster.
Of course, now that I'm writing this I can't seem to think of any... but some standouts are (forgive me if I don't know the correct name of the song or musician, I try not to)


"That's not my name." (I don't actually know any other words...)
"Glamorous" (G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S, flossy?....flossy?!)
"Good Night" ( I don't know what it's called. You know, that one that yells Mazel tov!?) 


And then there are always the classics like, 
"Spice up your life" (Ok, I DO know all the words to this one)


I'm sure I'l think of more later! But, if you have any songs you love to work to, no matter the genre, post em'!

I am a real person.

I have a family, seven sisters, two dogs, and one wonderful future husband. I've lived in the same town my whole life. Yes, I like to drink my water with a straw too. Sometimes I have good days, sometimes bad, but I'm alive. I love books, the T.V show LOST, and riding my pink low rider bicycle around town. I go to the bank. I wash my dishes. I take my little sister to the movies. I know and understand you need an extra side of barbeque sauce. I hate the color pink, love Chinese food, and long documentaries about ancient Rome. Someday I'd like to have children and I already have their names picked out. Maybe most importantly, I have a name of my own. Contrary to popular belief, it is not, "Hey Miss", "Ma'am", or "Waitress." I realize it's your lunch hour and you don't have a lot of time, but I'm a real person.

 I just thought maybe you didn't realize.

Table 64.

Why do people feel the need to be so completely rude?

Tonight my second or third table was a couple of women in their 50’s.

“Hi there. How are you ladies doing tonight?”

“Fine”

“Well, my name is Sa-“

“I’ll take a tall Manhattan with Maker’s mark. You have Maker’s mark right? I only want Maker’s mark, no other kinds. And can you put it in a tall glass with extra ice? Every time I come in here they give me this tiny glass and I drink it too fast, so make sure it is a big glass. And olives. Do not bring it to me with cherries. “

Alright… so that was good start. If you didn’t know or failed to realize, Applebee’s has a list of stuff we are supposed to say to each and every table. But, I gave up on this one right away and just let them talk at me.

The other lady took a bit longer to decide. And while I can’t remember what I was saying while she was deciding, she must have been annoyed or bored because she interrupted me to say, “ Can we just drink in peace for while first."

(More as a statement than a question)

Umm...I don't know if she realized, but they still hadn’t finished ordering their drinks. The only reason I was still standing there at all was because they hadn’t ordered anything yet. I couldn’t help but say, “Sure, you can sit here as long as you want. I just want to know what your drink order is.” She sort of rolled her eyes and ordered a beer.

 While this was happening, the rest of my tables were filling up. 

“What are your vegetables?” she asked.

“It’s a mix of steamed Broccoli, carrots and yellow squa..”

“No” she repeated while shaking her head.

“No way. I will not eat them. I hate those.”

“Okay, is there something else I can get you?” I asked.

“What are my options?”

“Well, what are you planning on ordering?”

“Steak”

“Well, you could get just steamed broccoli, or mashed potatoes, fries, baked potato, onion rings, chili fries, a soup or salad for a little extra… “

“I hate broccoli,” she said.

“Oh yes. I hate broccoli too. I can’t even look at it.,” the other woman said while making a gross noise. They talked about broccoli for a minute while I stood awkwardly tapping my pen.

“What are my options again?”

She made me repeat them 2 or 3 times.

Then, after all that, she decided she would just take the vegetables anyway. Yes that’s right.

“But, only to bring home for my husband. Don’t let them touch my other food.”

(Someone is married to her!?)

“No problem” I said.

They continued with their mean little comments while I tried to take the rest of their order. Wishing I could go and greet my other, hopefully more pleasant tables.

“Oh and one more thing,” one of the women said as she closed her menu and shoved it my direction. “I will be so Pissed. Off. If you bring out my dinner before I am finished with my appetizers. Do you understand?”

The other lady chimed in again, “ Yes, they did that last time. It is so awful.”

“Don’t worry. It will be my number one priority.” I said with the sweetest smile I could muster before walking away.

I wish I was making this up.People like this make me ask myself what is it about their lives that are so horrible, that they feel the need to spread their horribleness to other people? What did I do to deserve being talked to like that?  But, the good news is, they always leave.

After telling this account to my fiancée later, he said that maybe someday we will go somewhere and see them working and we can be as awful to them as they were to me. But, truth be told, I don’t know if I could ever be like that to someone else. Even though these ladies would totally deserve it. I think I would still find it hard to be that mean.

 I hope I never reach the age where I stop being nice and just start being old.

The hostess with the mostess

Yesterday I worked a morning shift, but instead of serving, I was a host. Also called an "SA" or "Server assistant." My very first job was a host actually, for a locally owned family run restaurant in my hometown. I worked there for 3 years before quitting to become a full-time server in yet another restaurant (Pizza hut... but don't even get me started on that one.)  

Anyways the point is, I don't want to be a host anymore. That is not the profession I would like at this moment in my life or probably ever again. It's not that hosting is difficult or anything. But it is frustrating and rewardless. Basically your job is to make sure the door is always opened for the guests, seat them in rotation with the chart, and tell them the soup of the day and their server's name. Then you clean up after them, making about $20-40 dollars a night, compared to the $75-200 you could make as a server.

So honestly, who would want to be a host?

Applequest

This whole experience has really made me look at my job in a new light. I’m usually someone who has an eye for details and I try to notice the little things, even when it comes to people.  But starting this blog has made me look even deeper, wondering where the nameless people at my tables come from, where are they going? Who is the person sitting across from them? Could this be their last meal? Okay I guess that’s a bit morbid, but hey, it could be.

Applebee’s teaches us to try and talk to our guests, to get to know them on a different level then what style potatoes they like. They urge us to ask questions about where they’re from and their plans for the day. This makes sense to me, but now I go a little beyond that. I’m actually a bit interested in the fact that they need a box to save their chicken, and no, not for them? For their cat? Well I don’t know why they told me that, but that is interesting!

My goal tonight is to find out a little something extra about my guests. Some questions I might try-

 

“What are your plans for the evening?”

-Simple, yet I could probably tell a lot about them from their response.

 

“Are they celebrating anything tonight?”

-This response will also let me know if I have to sing “the birthday song” to them or not.

 

“Have you seen any good movies?”

-Ok, this one might be hard to randomly bring up with out feeling like I’m being annoying, but we’ll see. This could be a conversation starter and/or show me what style of movies they like.

 

It would be fun to find someone who answers these, or other questions I come up with and write a little back-story for them, filling in the blanks myself.  Is that weird?

Oh well, we’ll see if anyone interesting comes in tonight. 

If you have any question ideas, leave them below!

Break me?

Applebee's does not give breaks. I take that back, they do give them if they are convenient, or if you smoke, but generally you should not make plans or pack a lunch, because you will be staying straight through your double. 

This Saturday I had the pleasure of spending a solid ten hours at Applebee's. I might add the weather was absolutely beautiful outside. I only know this because of the big windows at my booths facing the highway. It was a nice double, in the fact that I made a great deal of cash, but not so nice in the fact that by 10pm, after serving since 12pm, I was dead on my feet. 

 

The day was ridiculously busy. We were on a wait, (where a host has to take names at the door) for a good seven hours of the day. But even if we hadn't been that busy, I was scheduled as my own relief from my morning shift so I was destined to run my butt off the whole time.

This doesn't seem legal.

 Why are restaurants allowed to schedule people 8 or more hours a day without food or break? In fact, are restaurants allowed?! 

I'll have to look into this and let you know because I gotta run; I'm already late for Appletime! 

Taste the history

People are always asking where Applebee’s gets it’s name.  As if it is something we’re told in training, and maybe we are but I certainly don’t remember. So, I decided to do a little research and find out for myself. I stumbled upon this strange website that is apparently written by one of the original creators of Applebee’s, TJ Palmer. The website is http://applebees-founder.com/. The whole site took me by surprise. It is her story, the trials and tribulations of opening and running a business along with your husband/partner while your marriage crumbles around you. Instead of finding out the name and background to the store, I got sucked in to reading this lady’s kind of heartbreaking life story. I felt for her.

I did find out some other interesting stuff too though.  The original name was supposed to be Appleby’s (which is apparently said the same as Applebee’s.) But that name was taken, so it evolved into,  "TJ Applebee's Edibles and Elixirs."


I guess they wanted an old fashioned drug-store type feel, hence the “edibles and elixirs” contrasting today’s “bar and grill,” which was exactly what they were trying to get away from. There was even an old wooden Indian holding cigars that stood at the entrance of the store. It was also apparently, TJ’s dumb ex-husband who decided hot air balloons should be in their theme (gross.) This is the original stained glass fixture, very similar and maybe the same as the one in our store. 

 It just has a very outdated/reading rainbow type feel to me. Also, all of the stores were originally equipped with glass tiffany's above the booths. Adorned with kitty cats, unicorns, teddy bears, and of course, hot air balloons. This year we remodled along with many other stores for a more modern look. I'm thankful for this mostly because I hit my head on those damn things all the time. 

The website didn’t say exactly say where all the crazy memorabilia on the walls comes in. Everything from firemen hats to 101 dalmation posters are up there. But I guess it kind of goes with the nostalgic idea. Sometimes, on verrrry slow days we will play a sort of "I spy" with the things on the walls. One person will make a list, something along the lines of, 

" A baseball mitt"

"A lasso"

"A toy car"

"Billy-Ray Cyrus"

etc... and we will do our best to spot them all before the end of the shift. 

Don't judge us.

Applemare

I had a nightmare about Applebee’s last night. Oh, how I hate serving nightmares. They are like intense little panic attacks.

 I’m usually not very good at remembering my dreams and as I’ve gotten older they have become less vivid and the details slip away shortly after I open my eyes.

This dream was a lot like last night’s shift. I was a closing server, the last one to leave, also the last one to get a table (20 minutes to close.)

In my dream I was also closing, it was literally 5 minutes to 11 and a couple of people came in. (Actually, I think it was the mother and sister from Dead Like Me)

I grumpily took the table and while I was greeting them another table was sat. Then another, and another, and soon I realized they wouldn’t lock the door. Please! I yelled, lock the freakin door. We’re closed damnit!

 But they wouldn’t, and people kept pouring into my tables. I couldn’t keep up and no one would help me. I got so upset I threw my apron on the floor, stepped on it, and without using most of my fingers, waved my manager goodbye and left.

Maybe it was a good dream after all.

 

On a side note, I was so tired from my real life shift last night that I left my $90 dollars I made just sitting in the restaurant and I didn’t even realize it until I got home. Oh, me.

On a side note from that side note, I got to sing the birthday song to Stacy and her table last night! So happy birthday! 

 

 

Table 56.

Well my very first table made me cry last night. Not just a few tears either.  We are talking, full on, uncontrollable streams down my cheeks, in front of all my other tables.

When I arrived, the waitress before me had just taken a tables order and gave it to me to take over so she could go home, which was fine. It was an older couple with two steak dinners. But apparently I forgot the shrimp topper on one of the steaks. Not a really big deal but it still takes a couple of minutes. I apologized to the table with a near silent response from them. Well, there goes my tip, I thought as I walked back to the server station.

The topping took about 5 minutes. I apologized again when I brought it to the table, this time I got a nod and a look like “now go away,” so I did.

During this time the restaurant was filling up and I was taking care of three other near by tables of families. My manager walked by me at some point and said what I thought was, “Amber, don’t forget to put that topper on the bill.” I nodded and wished she hadn’t remembered because I was worried the table would protest paying for it. I guess what she actually said was, “Amber, don’t worry I put that topper on the bill.” But, since I didn’t hear her I quickly added the topper and brought the bill out to them.

I should have looked at it. I should have checked it again, but I didn’t. “This is ridiculous,” the man at the table said as I walked by. Uh-oh.

“We can’t get the right food, we can’t even get the right bill, what is this? This is ridiculous.”

I don’t do well with people yelling at me, especially adults or people of some kind of authority. I usually cry. But, I’ve never cried in front of a table before. I tried to explain what must have happened and that I would not charge him double for the shrimp topper. “This is just ridiculous,” he kept repeating while shaking his head. I could feel the tears welling up and to make it even worse, during this time, another server brought out the shrimp topper I had just uselessly added to the bill. (This time it only took a minute, of course!) So overall, they had two different servers, didn’t get their shrimp, got it 5 minutes late, was then charged double for it, and then had it brought to them again when they didn’t even have any food left. I totally understand why he was upset.

 I held in the crying until I got to my manager, where I began sobbing stupidly while trying to explain everything that went wrong. She sweetly dealt with it for me but I still had to go to the other near by tables. Pink faced and red-eyed I held my head up as I returned to my section. That man was standing now, explaining to my other tables everything that was wrong with their service. Who does that?!

I silently stood filling an iced tea, more embarrassed than anything, while he talked to my other guests. Then he turned to me to apparently apologize. I don’t know what he said. I kept nodding, and couldn’t seem to open my mouth without crying. I felt like an idiot. They pity tipped me 8 dollars and left.

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a table to leave so badly in my life. 

Appletime

Well last night ‘s shift was hardly “blog-worthy.” For some reason, every table I had was really nice and a great tipper, a rarity. No one really caught my attention. But It’s hard to complain on a night when your life is made easy cheezy.

Instead, I want to explain one concept you learn on the first day of Applebee’s orientation, “Apple-time.” (Yes, Applebee’s does refer to several things in the restaurant with an “apple” in front of it.) 

In theory, Appletime is a pretty good idea. Schedule everyone 15 minutes before their shift starts so that no one is ever late. But our Applebee’s doesn’t work like that. No, they schedule you at 4:15 and expect you to be clocked in and working at 4. So, basically they schedule you 15 minutes after you should have started working. Why? I have no idea. This whole concept has baffled me since the beginning and constantly makes me paranoid that I’m late for work.

Why not schedule me at 4 if you want me working at 4? Or 3:45 if you want me there early?

I think I asked a manager once and got a response something along the lines of “Because that’s the way it is.” So, that’s the way it is I guess.

 

 Off to work again to find juicy Applebees info. 

 

AppleBee's, Oh Please!

 

You know that girl? Yeah you do, the one taking your steak and ketchup dinner order and bringing you that extra side of ranch dressing you so desperately need? The one who’s face and name most don’t even bother to learn or care to remember. “Um I think her name was Angela, Agnes? She was a blonde, no wait…”

 

Yeah, that’s me. Like many other college students I make a living as an AppleBee's slave. I’d like to take some time to reflect and share some experiences I have from behind that bbq sauce stained apron.

Well, maybe later. It’s Friday night.

 So, here I go, off to work!