Nietzsche in the kitchen

I got hired at a restaurant recently. I’ve worked food service in the past, but those were all front-of-house positions. This time, they’ve got me washing dishes.

Now, I knew ahead of time that dishwashing would be among my duties, and the task is relatively simple: get the dishes, clean the dishes, return the dishes to their rightful places. Regardless, the managers had a trainer show me the ropes and then watch as I duplicated the steps, proving I could get my first solo shift.

I was feeling pretty good about my ability to get, clean and return dishes until, about 30 minutes into the shift—after I’d managed to cut the pile of pots and pans in half, while keeping up with the incoming plates, bowls and utensils—she found me.