2nd job
I got a second job at my friend's chinese restaurant. Washing Dishes. It's a great job. Really. It's the only job I know where I can sing out loud, in Chinese, without anyong else looking at me like a nut job. They all sing at the kitchen. Not the waitresses, or the boss, but pretty much everyone else.
There's Ah-Jing, Northern Chinese from Liaoning. He's my supervisor, and speaks the thickest northern Chinese accent I know. Sometimes I can't even understand him. Especially when he's yelling at me, "Na piao! Na piao!" (<-- took me a while to get it means "get spoons! get spoons!) And he's always picking on my work. Ordering me around to wash this, and wash that, and doing over again. What a bastard.
There's also the waitress staff. They're reasonably good looking women. They dump the dirty dishes in my treys, eyes looking directly at the floor, and walk away, as if my work area is a dumpster.
Then there's Amigo, my fellow dishwasher. Apparently, when you are a Mexican working at a Chinese restaurant, it doesn't really matter what your names are. Because something like "Pedro" would probably sound like "Pedlo". I don't think Ah-Jing can even say "pedlo", it might be like "pe-de-lo". I don't think anyone even want to know. "Amigo" is much easier. The Chinese are especially fond of outsourcing their special brand of workshop ethics, especially to the Amigos. The dishwashing position has 1 opening on weekdays, and 2 on weekends. So from Monday to Thursdays, Amigo has to wash all the dishes in a very popular restaurant. Not just the ones customers eat, but also all the kitchen ware used by the entire cooking/preping staff.
Now I work with Amigo. My solo shifts are on Wedsnesdays and Thursdays. Then I work double shifts on the weekends. It's a hard job. Something you obsolutely cannot do under the influence of marijuana or alcohol. It's not like handling baggages at the airport. Here if you trip, you break a whole shelf of dishes. And boy, they have a lot of fancy dishes. I've washed them all.
There's Ah-Jing, Northern Chinese from Liaoning. He's my supervisor, and speaks the thickest northern Chinese accent I know. Sometimes I can't even understand him. Especially when he's yelling at me, "Na piao! Na piao!" (<-- took me a while to get it means "get spoons! get spoons!) And he's always picking on my work. Ordering me around to wash this, and wash that, and doing over again. What a bastard.
There's also the waitress staff. They're reasonably good looking women. They dump the dirty dishes in my treys, eyes looking directly at the floor, and walk away, as if my work area is a dumpster.
Then there's Amigo, my fellow dishwasher. Apparently, when you are a Mexican working at a Chinese restaurant, it doesn't really matter what your names are. Because something like "Pedro" would probably sound like "Pedlo". I don't think Ah-Jing can even say "pedlo", it might be like "pe-de-lo". I don't think anyone even want to know. "Amigo" is much easier. The Chinese are especially fond of outsourcing their special brand of workshop ethics, especially to the Amigos. The dishwashing position has 1 opening on weekdays, and 2 on weekends. So from Monday to Thursdays, Amigo has to wash all the dishes in a very popular restaurant. Not just the ones customers eat, but also all the kitchen ware used by the entire cooking/preping staff.
Now I work with Amigo. My solo shifts are on Wedsnesdays and Thursdays. Then I work double shifts on the weekends. It's a hard job. Something you obsolutely cannot do under the influence of marijuana or alcohol. It's not like handling baggages at the airport. Here if you trip, you break a whole shelf of dishes. And boy, they have a lot of fancy dishes. I've washed them all.