Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeell damn. Since my last post way back when, I have been shifted to working breakfast. This upsets me. I swear, Nick seems to find the best way to make your life miserable. I don't like working breakfast. I don't like waking up at 5 am. I don't like having my dad drive me in to work. It's all bullshit. He took away the only thing that really made working there bearable, which was the people I worked with. Working breakfast means I get to spend 4-5 hours alone in the kitchen, doing prep, cooking, cleaning, or sometimes doing nothing. It's terrible. Nick didn't even tell me the combination to open the lock to the kitchen. Usually it's open, but Ken (the Sunday breakfast waiter) was running late today and didn't make it in before me.
Not to say I haven't had fun working breakfast, but that was back when Trevor would open up with me.
You see, Trevor used to work with me at 6, so we could pal around, burn plastic, make racist jokes at the expense of the pregnant Japanese pastry chef (who we lovingly call "Godzirra"), or making prep we will probably never use. But now he gets to stroll on in at 11, and since the hotel is hanging on the edge of double digit occupancy, I usually have to leave almost as soon as he arrives. This is basically the final blow to a bad day. As soon as someone I like talking to arrives, I have to leave due to money problems.
Trevor did give me a terrible tasting Jack Daniels filled chocolate when he arrived though, and at least I had the car today, so I got to avoid the 2 hour tour de force that is Trimet. Whoopie.
On the bright side, when I got home, I had a little project that could keep me busy. Or so I thought. On Saturday I went down to the local home brewing store and picked up 12 pounds of various grains, some bags of hops, some LME, and a bag of yeast so I could brew some Hefeweisen. I had it all planned out, I would come home, sanitize my equipment, make my wort, brew my hops, and get everything done before 5. This was before I realized I did not have a stock pot large enough to hold the 3.5 gallons of water I needed, plus all the grains. This put the final nail in the coffin of self loathing and hatred that was my day.
Apparently we're having a Vodka party at H5O someday this week, I think it may even be tomorrow, where any one in the industry can drop on by and get free Vodka. Except for me. Cause I'm too young. Grrrrrrrrr... Why must America be so uptight about drinking ages? It baffles me that I can buy all the ingredients I need in order to make my own alcoholic beverages, but cannot legally drink them outside of my house.
Europe's got their shit together when it comes to drinking ages.
Hopefully tomorrow's more fun. I think T-rex is in at 9 tomorrow, and we're still at a really low occupancy, meaning we'll probably make some powders/gels/hot ice cubes, that we will never use in any dish ever.
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