Printer Chatter (file under BEAUTIFULLY INCESSANT)

So as you all know I have now been at the new job for six days. And in those six days it feels as if I have come a long way and what’s more that I recognize and look forward to even more. It is exciting. Exhilarating. Fun even.

It starts almost with a whisper as the ribbon moves over. Tic. You then know it is coming. The glorious onslaught that is my purpose. My drive. My passion and now my life. My ears ever perked for that tell tale Tic. And then tic, tic, tic, tic, tic. One order in. Chef in his booming voice calls out the order and though he does this I find myself peeking at the printer to see what the order is. Tic, tic, tic, tic, tic. And now it really is on. Order after order. The beautifully incessant chatter of the printer. Letting me know that yes, we are in the thick of it. And not only that, but the show going on, is one that I can’t believe I had to wait to get to.

Tic, tic, tic, tic, tic. Order Penne Primavera, Edamame, Tuna Club, etc. Tic, tic, tic, tic. Two spaghetti and three penne all day. Drop six orders of fries. Tic, tic, tic, tic, tic. Drop six more. Two more Tuna clubs. Add to that another Primavera and it really is show time.

I furrow my brow for a moment. Thinking back in glee for a moment to the summer and the grill. Tic, tic, tic, tic, tic. Alright, now it’s really on. Three more Tuna clubs. A pan fried green. Chef calls out, drop some greens for pan fried. Keep your pans hot he says to me. Tic, tic, tic, tic, tic. Cajun times three. VIP table make it nice.

What a glorious sound as I surrender fully to the tic, tic, tic, tic, tic. Watching, listening, acting and reacting to the second most beautiful sound I think I’ve ever heard. The first we certainly can’t talk about here. But I’m sure you can imagine. Tic, tic, tic, tic, tic. And here it goes again. Constantly chattering. Constantly spitting out duplicate chits for table 1, 65. And then again, over and over and over.

Tic, tic, tic, tic, tic. By the time the rush is over we’ve served about one hundred and sixty people. 30 – 40 percent of which is coming off of my station. I wipe my brow and think to myself how enjoyable it is to have your ass handed to you. Not in the weeds. Just a regular old ass whooping and man is the pain glorious.

Mods are a whole different story. Modifications. The bain of my existence. As we can have any of twelve or thirteen different Mods. If you’re not paying attention it is easy to screw up the order and once you screw up one order you find yourself constantly trying to pull yourself out from it.

Tic, tic, tic, tic, tic and then nothingness. Seemingly without purpose as the last chit comes up. Coffee. Our first stretch of the day is over. Time for a smoke. Clean the line. And get ready to do it all over again.

I am unable to come up with the words to describe the pain pleasure experience of the line. Pain, when you fall behind, grab a pan without a towel, drop boiling water on yourself. Pleasure, because I am doing exactly what I am meant to do and doing it well. In fact better than expected and all in less than a week.

I do have a lot more way to go. As I said before I learned how to crawl and then walk. Now all I need to do is learn how to run. And I’m sure before long I will be Usain Bolt. Instead of World’s Fastest Man – World’s Fastest Pan.

Tic, tic, tic, tic, tic. OH It’s ON! And I’m ready for the show. Put me in coach I’m ready to play. Full blown agony and ecstasy for a combined total of about three hours a day. And unlike in the summer when I resented the grill trap that I was in. I now relish the pain. Welcome it. In fact. Come in, sit down and let my pain be your pleasure. As so too is my pain my pleasure and my destiny.

I must be a sadist in some way. Because the moment I get home I find myself longing not just for the love of my life, C and a tender embrace but also a good old fashioned beautifully incessant printer chatter ASS KICKING!

Antoine de Saint-Exupery once said; “Commonly, people believe that defeat is characterized by a general bustle and a feverish rush. Bustle and rush are the signs of victory, not of defeat. Victory is a thing of action. It is a house in the act of being built. Every participant in victory sweats and puffs, carrying the stones for the building of the house. But defeat is a thing of weariness, of incoherence, of boredom. And above all of futility.”

Are you dreaming big and inspired?

A la prochaine

SDM