Peanuts on the floor and other disturbing quirks...

So now I work in a restaurant that has a signature item. One in which the honorable George Washington Carver is most notably known about. The item that has been discovered, melded with, mixed with, spread on in some form or fashion, injected into, crusted on, boiled, chocolate dipped, canned, honey-roasted, jalapeno'd (not sure it that is even a word, but don't care), candy bar'd (see there I go again), made into power bars (some good, some bad), dipping sauces (thank you thai!), and even placed on bars where some dirty, nasty, drunk a$$hole goes to the bathroom without washing their hands before plunging their d!ckskinners back into the bowl. That's right! the peanut!!! Now there are very few restaurants that still honor this tradition (mainly because of the safety issues that it presents) so I'll allow you to figure it out. After my first week of surrounding myself in this culture, I was still in that DARDEN frame of mind, that it is so dirty to look at. Millions of crushed up peanuts (shelled and otherwise) thrown upon the floor for the masses to grind, mash, pulverize, and track throughout the entire restaurant, for the remainder of the day. But you know what, after about the fifth week, I started to like it, and I will tell you why:
1) Instant ammo, when you need to get a servers/bartenders/kitchen staffs attention.
2) Instant ammo just for the heck of it
3) Automatic spill cleaner-upper. (just clean up as much of the mess as possible (dressing, grease, ect...) and just pour some peanuts over the mess and start mashing. Within minutes the mess has been converted to a somewhat stable mass of unremarkable uck that looks like the rest of the floor. (Thank you G.W.Carver!!)

Who knew that something so darn tasty was so flexible. Now it is quite fun to launch a few of these across the dining room to see just how far they can go. But practice a little bit, get the air flows just right, add a little altitude to those bad boys and PINK! right on the head. And 9 times out of 10, they will never know it was you, because every ones doing it!

So before you go and judge the peanut, read this and come to understand that just how under appreciated the little legume really is. All this time I thought it was only good enough for the Snickers Bar, but alas, I have realized my folly.

In addition, I must speak about another subject, no less dear to my heart but one that must be addressed. Drama in the restaurant! I have been around for a good bit, (Not my first rodeo) and I am aware that servers will be the same every restaurant that you go too, but I am constantly amazed at how similar the story lines go.
AHEM.....
1) How are you doing today? Answer: I'm tired
Translation: I got off last night, and before I began my night of drinking, smoking and boffing, I made sure that everyone knew how little I made in tips from all the Rednecks, and as it turns out I woke up with some guy/girl that I met at my girlfriends/boyfriends crib.
2) Are you ready to have a good shift? Answer: I guess
Translation: The fact that you have that much energy is somewhat frightening. Are you going to be that way all night, or will it wear off? I am lucky that I can see the computer screen considering that my blood to alcohol level is somewhat compromised at the present moment. I just woke up 30 minutes ago (typically this is given at 5-5:30pm)
3) Whats the problem at your table? Answer: They said they wanted such and such but now they are saying they ordered this
Translation: During the process of taking the order, I magically whisked the left over portion of my higher brain functions away to that special place that I reserve for those times I eat Chunky Monkey ice cream right out of the carton, or when I get that gunk from underneath my toenails, instead of listening to the guest and transposing what they really wanted to eat.
4) Why is this section such a mess? Answer: Such and such was supposed to do this, and told me they did, but when I went to check, they didn't do it.
Translation: Weeeeellllll, lets see If I can put this into Perspective:
ASSUME. I'll let you break it down, now get it cleaned up.

Now I imagine that many of you readers can associate with this situation, but for me to be constantly surrounded by anywhere from 15-20 people, average age of 20, and just some of the most miserable people you could ever meet, then you are a stronger man/woman than I.

In closing, I realize that my past two posts have been rather lengthy, but I have been keeping a lot in.

On the brighter side, I don't drive near as much, my wife and boy are happier, and I can't wait to see just how far I can throw my next peanut!

PINK!!!