Monday, May 18, 2009

Chi-Chi's

My first college summer, i came home and decided to get a job with more social prospects. There was a huge Mexican chain restaurant on the outskirts of the mall called Chi-Chi's. Throughout high school my family had been secret spies there, getting free meals in exchange for reports. I loved the food, and got a job as a busboy. I was curious about waiting tables, and wanted to move one step closer to it (which turned out to be as close as i would ever come...there are just way too many idiots and boors running around with a charge card). Bussing was a lot of fun, though. There were four dining rooms. We busboys (and girls) probably had the most cushy job in the place. Everybody else was in constant motion, but we had some down time. There were two bus stations, and usually five or six bussers on duty. We set and cleared tables, and brought out chips and salsa. But mostly i indulged in my favorite bus activity: eating chips and salsa.
You don't understand. These chips and salsa were really, really good. The salsa was made by the cooks, and stored in thirty-gallon plastic drums in the walk-in. We made the chips ourselves. We pulled them out of the freezer, separated them, and put them into huge fryer baskets. We pulled them out, and salted them. If you got the timing right and didn't skimp on the salt, they melted in your mouth. At the bus station, we stored them in heated drawers. We ate 'em until they came out of our ears, and somehow never tired of it (well, the diehards like myself never tired of it, i guess). Ohhhhhhh, i wish i had some right now. Chips that came to the tables lost heat quickly, which i think was the secret ingredient in making them irresistable. We also had soda guns in our station, and my favorite drink was a cola/orange hybrid. Another duty was singing the birthday song. Staff would gather around the birthday customer's table, armed with tambourine and sombreros, and sing a peppy "Mexican" birthday song. Though i was an actor, i found this duty insipid and embarrassing, and became expert at avoiding it. Ole.
Anyway, i got along well with the other bussers...and to an unusual extent, also with the cooks and hosts and waitstaff and dishwashers and bartenders. Which actually was the key in my Chi-Chi's vocational expansion. A few weeks into my second summer, the cooks were short a prep person as i finished a shift, and asked me to fill in. I happily did so, and before long i spent a few weeks doing food prep. It was okay...on a social level it was a little more fulfilling, as you could be yourself more, out of sight of the customers. There were two Chris's back there. Chris#1 and i actually talked about real stuff, and Chris (Space) Marnie was just a tall, way-out, certifiable loon. They didn't like each other, but i was friends with both. I also filled in as a dishwasher. But kitchen work became boring pretty quickly.
It was a special project, which led to my next position. The restaurant was being re-decorated, and they asked for volunteers to be on the overnight wall-painting crews. I volunteered. The project took over two weeks, and it was the most on-the-clock intensive work of my life. With bussing and painting, at one point i worked 21 hours straight, with 41 and 45 hours of overtime in consecutive weeks. I was so conspicuous on the paint crew, the head manager Steve asked whether i'd like to do other maintenance projects. Liking the prospect of independence, and the $4.5o an hour he offered, i accepted. After a couple weeks of spot work, i suggested that i do maintenance full-time. I had realized that, with roads on all sides and three parking lots, keeping the grounds picked up ought to be attended to daily. I proposed that as the core of my duties, and that i come in every day of the week to tend to it. I would do other projects as they came, but some of my days would involve no more than the grounds, which took two or three hours. Steve gave his approval. He gave me a lot of independence to find my own work, and do it at my own pace. I came and went, a sunshiny presence. It suited me so well i did it the rest of the summer, and the following one. By the end of that third summer, i was making $5.50. Every day i'd be out there, in a rather zen place. I'd usually be singing. Most days it was "Jesus Christ Superstar" in its entirety.
The managers were a mixed lot. Steve was a bit dour. My favorite was Jim, who was rather smooth, but with a dry sense of humor. He was forever flirting with fellow manager Kerry, who was a bit of a blonde sex goddess. She would humorously rebuff him, but i think he finally wore down her resistance. Tom was a more serious manager, and he put me through my one ethical dilemma there. One night, he told me to carry a bunch of frozen steaks out to the back lot, where he would load them into his car. He wanted my complicity in an act of theft. In my mind, i froze. Looking back, i can't help thinking of Milgram's experiment. He was my boss, what was i to do? It was so surreal, i'm not even sure of what i did. I think i chose a middle road, not helping him, but not turning him in. It's even possible i did what he asked. The experience felt vaguely like a test, like he was probing my worthiness for management. I also remember him walking away, and not going through with the theft. Isn't it amazing that i can't remember? To me, it felt like i failed the test...but i might have felt that way no matter what i did.
In my first summer, i had my one grand Chi-Chi's social misadventure. There were twin sisters on the wait staff, Mindy and Milsey. They were pretty stunning. I favored Milsey, and by favored i mean starry-eyed...and she and i actually hit it off. We talked when we could, usually about how her boyfriend Fred wasn't treating her well. Fred was a busser i had never got on with. He was at least a head taller than i, and a bit of a lout. Eventually Milsey and i swapped phone numbers, and spent time together outside of work. Fred didn't take well to this, but i was willing to chance any hell. Co-workers told me that Fred said he was going to kill me, and tried to warn me away. One of these was a waitress and single mother of a small child. We always had very nice talks, and she said that she would step in if Fred tried to hurt me. I think she really meant it. She moved away that summer, and in retrospect not only was she genuinely sweet on me, she also had more to offer than Milsey...but i never walked through that door. I was intimidated by the child, i suppose. And as for Milsey, perhaps we all have a time in our life when we are blinded by something shiny and insubstantial? Or perhaps many times. One surreal night, we walked in her neighborhood and had a drive-by by Fred. We cut through yards to elude him. We mostly just talked, though we did finally kiss that night, just once. But within a couple days, she was back with him and giving me a cold shoulder. I walked around in confusion, until Mindy told me that Milsey had been using me. At that moment, it hurt, but i felt like i would have done it the same way again if given the chance. Bravery? Idiocy? The power of sex? Yes, yes, and without a doubt yes.

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