Happy Dave and Creepy Steve

My freshman year of college I got my first job. I had previously submitted an application to Wal-Mart, but never heard back from them. I think the lady that took my application left it on the counter and now a creepy guy has it and has been using it to stalk me for the past 10 years. Either that or some birds got hold of it they and used it to make a nest for their babies. And then the piece of paper that contained my name and address fell from the nest to the sidewalk and a creepy guy found it and has been using it to stalk me for the past 10 years.

I went a different route in college; I applied to work at a dining hall. It was a short lived job. I worked 1 day a week for a 5 hour shift. On Wednesdays after I finished class I would walk over to the worst possible dining hall on campus. It was known to be the most undesirable place to eat, since it typically had indistinguishable foods (unlike most of our dining halls which actually had pretty decent food). I made it 3 weeks – this means I spent 15 hours in the place where dreams go to die.

Unlike most of the dining areas in campus, this one was run entirely by non-students. So when I started the other employees didn’t know how to approach me. Like if a penguin got on the other side of the fence at the zoo – you’d obviously want to approach it, but you’d be afraid it had rabies. And the penguin would be terrified and want to hide in a corner. I guess I’m the rabid penguin in this scenario.

Each of the dining halls had a door man – an entity that would swipe your badge and allow entrance. My dining hall had Happy Dave. He was always smiling, always singing, and always hitting on the guys. Appearance-wise he looked like Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs. I didn’t interact with him that much.

I did however, have to work with Creepy Steve (I don’t remember his name, so we’ll call him Creepy Steve). Creepy Steve was a lingerer. He didn’t know how to sense when a conversation was over and he should walk away and he definitely stared a little too long for my liking. I spent a lot of time with Creepy Steve over my 3 day stint as a dining hall employee.

Day 1:

The first day involved a very brief training session…and a lot of standing around. I was the salad bar expert. My job was to stand behind the salad bar and to make sure the levels never changed in any of the bins. Someone took some lettuce? Put some more lettuce in the bin. Someone took some cheese? Put more cheese in the bin. Someone took some egg salad? No one ever took egg salad. It’s funny that when watched, people don’t take things that are supposed to be gross or smelly (even though they’re not…honestly egg salad, tuna, and onions are delicious).

I did that. For 5 hours.

I guess I made a good impression, because the next day I was there I had even more responsibilities.

Day 2:

The follow week I was asked to man the salad bar AND the desert table. I know what you’re thinking: “How could one person possibly handle both the salad bar and the desert table?” It was like when you’re in the shower and you hear your alarm clock going off and it’s the 3^rd time it’s happened this week. And you know your neighbor can hear it because you live in an apartment with thin walls, but he’s too polite to say something. So you decide to run from the shower with shampoo on your head, in your eyes, and running down your back all the way to your room with a towel half wrapped around you which is now also covered in soap. You get the alarm off, but the damage is done – your neighbor hates you. And your shower time is ruined. And you need a new towel because if you finish your shower and then dry off with the alarm clock towel you’ll be all soapy again and then be itchy all day. The point is neither task is done quite right, but they both get done.

Creepy Steve was in awe of my talents and wanted to be my special friend. He made awkward conversation as I cleaned up the salad bar. He then asked where I lived. I don’t like to make other people feel awkward or upset or out of line, so I will make a fool of myself or offer up too much information to prevent this. I gave him a very roundabout answer. All freshmen live on North Campus, so saying I lived on North Campus wasn’t really giving up anything that he couldn’t figure out himself. By allowing the conversation to go on as long as I had, I had allowed his confidence to reach dangerous levels. He asked me if I wanted a ride home. I may do stupid things now and then, but I certainly will not get into a car with a strange man (creepy or not). I quickly stored the bins and made an excuse to leave immediately.

Day 3:

My third week of work was my final week. In 2 short days I had shown so much initiative and drive in salad bar bin filling and desert table prep that I had been upgraded to running EVERY station (except for the wok station).

Either that, or I was the only person to show up to work and they had no option other than promoting me. This promotion came with great responsibility, but no raise in salary. That’s the best kind of promotion.

This day was actually challenging. I had so many things to watch, and clean, and refill, and heat. It was tough to stay on top of everything, but I did it and was happy when I reached the end of the night. The cleanup was also significantly tougher. The hot food was kept hot, by resting the bins of food in large vats of hot water. I had to pour the hot water into the large bin where I also dumped uneaten food. The hot water vats were large and heavy. This resulted in burning hot water running down my arms and body. I was then asked to mop up the floor to clean up the mess I’d created.

The last step was for me to bring all the bins and utensils to the kitchen to be cleaned. When working with water, it’s tough to keep it all where it’s supposed to be (see the previous paragraph). The kitchen fell victim to a number of unintended water accidents. This meant the tile floor was wet. When tiles get wet, they get slippery. I have trouble staying upright on level friction-y ground, so this didn’t bode well for me. When I was carrying my last pile of pots, pans, and utensils into the kitchen, I didn’t stand much of a chance. I had one of the most amazing to watch (I have to imagine) falls of all time. I slipped and fell backwards, landing on my butt. I must have been flailing wildly because the pans flew up into the air and landed everywhere. Some fell left, some fell right, some fell down, some fell up (and then down and slightly to the right). It would have been amazing if I could have jumped up and caught all the pans one by one in a stack like they do in cartoons. But everyone knows you have to be a wizard to have talents of that magnitude. And sadly, I am not a wizard.

I wished no one saw, but of course everyone did. They asked if I was ok and I had to give the obligatory “I’m fine. It wasn’t as bad as it looked.” story as I hobbled away.

Before I could make it to my 4^th day, I received a call from Creepy Steve. He asked me if I could come in on another day because they needed help. Unfortunately I had a prelim that day, and oddly enough I valued my grades more than my dining hall job. He somewhat jokingly asked me to skip my prelim to fill the shift, and I declined, and he refused to drop it, and I continued to decline, and the awkward conversation went on too long.

I made a judgment call and decided that creepy guys + increased responsibility and non-increased pay + scalding water on my skin + epic fall + unreasonable requests = Cristy no longer working at dining hall. So my first job lasted 3 weeks, but really only 3 days.