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We were legends. (In our own minds)V

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Our junior year in high school. Tom and I went to work at a local restaurant (which will remain nameless), working in the kitchen, busing tables, delivering room service orders. We knew when we started working there it was just so we could work together, so our employers priorities weren’t exactly our own. Between dish washing, potato peeling, clean this, scrub that and taking out the trash, horse play and pranks were a part of our daily routine.

One event that stands out in the memories that wasn’t of our doing. We took our meal breaks in the basement of the restaurant. One day during a hard rain the basement flooded about one inch deep. While making a trip downstairs Tom noticed the odor of natural gas so the service man was called to check it out. Later we were down there eating our supper when the repairman came down. As he opened the door to the furnace room, Tom told him to be careful, it smelled bad in there. With a swagger and a sneer, he informed us he had been doing this for 25 years, and knew what he was doing. Less than one minute later there was an explosion, the door was blown open and the repairman was sliding across the floor, creating his own tidal wave as the water on the floor was pushed ahead of him. Except for his pride he was unhurt, and as he got to his feet Tom and I looked at each other and said simultaneously,”25 YEARS!” Then Tom added, “Should have learned in 25 years to not check for gas leaks with a lit match!” The guy mumbled something about never too old to learn and went about his soggy business.

Oh, yeah, rolls and chickens. One night while cleaning up to close, I was busy running dishes through the dishwasher while Tom, across the room, was in the big sinks washing pots and pans. The cook had taken the leftover rolls out of the warming oven and told Tom to dispose of them. As I was pulling down the dishwasher door, a handful of soggy rolls splattered against it. Turning, I saw Tom with a big grin and another roll in his hand. I grabbed the first mass of gooey bread, tossed it back and the war was on! Just as I thought it was winding down, Tom grabbed a raw chicken from a pan and heaved it at me. As it left his hand, the kitchen door flew open and in walked Miss G, the manager, yelling “What the hell is going on back there?” With the chicken in mid-air, I did the only thing I could think of, grabbing it by the drumstick and tossing it in the dishwasher, pulling the door down and hitting the start button all in one fluid move! Although suspicious of some sort of horseplay, she missed the ‘flight of the nekked chicken’, and after running it through 5 or 6 wash cycles while she questioned us, was promptly fed to the disposal when she made her exit. We both found different employment a short time after that, but not at the same place. A recipe for disaster, us working together…..

Going to get together with Tom’s family this July 4th weekend, share some food, some memories, have some laughs and maybe a tear or two.

And work on some ideas for the next installment…………..

July 2, 2009

Stop Me If You've Heard This One