things you learn working in a cafe. also: I heart hyphens.
yeah, working in a cafe? I was told from the outset that you would definitely burn yourself at least a few times working there. but I'm either really accident-prone, or the job really is more hazardous than I thought. examples from this weekend:
a) saturday's unfortunate milk-steaming incident. I'm standing there steaming milk for drink no. whatever. I'm making multiple drinks, so the pitcher is pretty full, but at the time, not enough that I thought I had to worry about it overflowing. I look away for a second to see if the espresso is finished. I look back just in time to see 170-degree milk suddenly shooting up over the edge of the pitcher. and all over my hand. cue stopping the cafe in its tracks for a moment with my screaming. amazingly, I didn't drop the pitcher and manage to burn myself elsewhere. so kept working after running cold water over it for a little while (and occasionally icing it with whatever was in the freezer). still hurt like a mofo for a good 24 hours.
b) sunday's unfortunate nearly-having-my-boobs-burned-off incident. coworker is removing a tray of cookies from the oven, I'm nearby doing something else. we both turn around simultaneously, stopping suddenly with the end of a just-removed-from-a-300-degree-oven tray about an inch from my chest. we have the staring-at-each-other-wide-eyed holy-shit moment. then laughed about it later; as he put it, 'grow me a mustache and call me saddam.' after the initial holy-shit moment, I found and still find it more amusing than freaky. but still, *ow.*
so yeah, it could just be me, but you've been warned. don't ever do this job.
a) saturday's unfortunate milk-steaming incident. I'm standing there steaming milk for drink no. whatever. I'm making multiple drinks, so the pitcher is pretty full, but at the time, not enough that I thought I had to worry about it overflowing. I look away for a second to see if the espresso is finished. I look back just in time to see 170-degree milk suddenly shooting up over the edge of the pitcher. and all over my hand. cue stopping the cafe in its tracks for a moment with my screaming. amazingly, I didn't drop the pitcher and manage to burn myself elsewhere. so kept working after running cold water over it for a little while (and occasionally icing it with whatever was in the freezer). still hurt like a mofo for a good 24 hours.
b) sunday's unfortunate nearly-having-my-boobs-burned-off incident. coworker is removing a tray of cookies from the oven, I'm nearby doing something else. we both turn around simultaneously, stopping suddenly with the end of a just-removed-from-a-300-degree-oven tray about an inch from my chest. we have the staring-at-each-other-wide-eyed holy-shit moment. then laughed about it later; as he put it, 'grow me a mustache and call me saddam.' after the initial holy-shit moment, I found and still find it more amusing than freaky. but still, *ow.*
so yeah, it could just be me, but you've been warned. don't ever do this job.