Here are some notable numbers from yesterday's work shift:
11 hours of cooking. 2 burns, 1 on each arm. 96° in the kitchen. 50 pounds of wings sold.
But I did well expediting, and compliments were passed to the owner by the lead cook and a couple servers. And I'm sure the bartender (the owner's son last night) will have good things to say too, since we got hit at 11:45 last night. Everybody and their brother wanted a burger or a dozen wings, all at once. He'd have been completely screwed if I wasn't there to cook for him.
What a day.
No comments:
Post a Comment