Daylight Savings

I nodded to the front desk lady as I strode through the lobby, “Happy Daylight Savings,” she cheerfully said, putting her hair up with a purple hair tie. The phone started ringing. 

 I was the first one in the kitchen at 4:30 a.m. I flicked on the lights. I clocked in then walked down the line, flicked on the deep fryer, turning on the knobs to the flat top then hitting the switch on the ovens. I went into the walk-in and glared at the unfinished peeled potatoes from the night before,”What dumbass didn’t-”, then it hit me. I closed the night before. I left this for myself to finish. I had been stuck closing because the sous chef left, I had pissed him off. 

Working a clopen on daylight savings has to be a cruel joke, if my chef was clever enough I would think he had planned it. I pulled the bacon and sausage on sheet pans from the speed rack and unwrapped them. Sliding those into the oven I filled and turned on my steam table.  

I prepared the rest of my breakfast line as I waited for Barney to breeze in at 5. As usual, I heard him singing aloud to his headphones as he went to the walk-in freezer. 

With the wind chill outside at -45 degrees one had to go into the freezer to warm up, otherwise the temperature change on the line would hit you like a ton of bricks.

I mixed pancake batter and prepped my egg mixture for French toast when Barney popped around the side with the legal pad that I had written the prep list on.

“I hate the salad garnish, is there enough to get through today?”Barney went to the front to start coffee. 

“You said the same thing yesterday, and no, we have enough for like two salads,” I nodded to him when he offered me a cup.

“It’s all that knife work, my hands are killing me, Chef wants everything done by hand,” Barney smirked.

At the same time we mocked the Chef's baritone voice, ”Using a food processor to chop the garlic changes the flavor!”

Laughing I responded, ”Well Chef isn’t here, so just use the mandolin to julienne the veggies then brunoise them.”

“I like how you think-”, Barney was cut off by our marketing rep, Natalie, coming in the door, her face pinched.

“Ugh, that damn bus driver!” Natalie grabbed a coffee cup.

“All good?”, I asked. 

“Like we aren’t full up as it is, but this rock band decided to stop here for the night, the gross bus driver grabbed my hand and pulled me in to kiss me on the cheek,” she shuddered, ”I told him I was married.”

“How did that go?” Barney grabbed a cutting board from the dish pit. 

“He said my husband is a lucky guy,” she gave a half grin, ”I told him that yes, my wife thinks so.”

We all started laughing. 

“Oh, yeah I need an amenity plate for the band, they asked for some smoked gouda,” she waved as she went back to her office.

“Smoked? We only have regular gouda”, Barney rolled his eyes and looked exasperated.

“I got it, grab me a six inch, a two inch perforated and a lid,” I continued cutting up the corned beef for hash.

I made a quick rectangle out of foil and took out the wood chips. 

Five til 9am Barney came around the corner with a cake to bake off. “You think the dishwasher will be on time or late?”, he asked as he slid the pan into the oven. 

“Fifty cents says he is eight minutes late because of the bus,” I responded, slicing more tomatoes. 

“Fifty cents says he calls in,” Barney adjusted the timer.

“Heard.”

I won the dollar, the dishwasher said the bus was late, though we knew he lived a five minute walk up the road. 

“It’s freezing, all that snow,” the dishwasher filled his sinks. 

I silently mouthed what Barney always said, “There’s two types of weather in the Northland, snow and road construction”, Barney brought over a dirty pot. 

The day picked up, there were a lot of four tops and room service orders.

Around 1 p.m. our illustrious Sous Chef walked in the door. He buttoned up his jacket and muttered, ”I can’t believe Chef left me to do all this crap.”

I smiled as I waited. Knowing that soon he would-

“Where are my knives?!”, the Sous Chef yelled.

I finished traying up my prep for the next day. 

“Where did you leave then, Sous?” Barney responded slowly. 

“I left them in the sani bucket, what are they not in my knife bag?!”, he snarled.

I came around the corner, “Were they supposed to walk to your knife bag and get tucked in?”, I let the sarcasm drip like our broken hand wash sink. 

“You were supposed to put them away at the end of the night, anyone with common sense-”, he started.

“Are these it?” Barney popped out from the freezer, holding the sani bucket. The knives were frozen into the old sani water.

“What did you do?!”The Sous Chef proceeded to try to Excalibur out his knives.

“Common sense would tell you that I am not your mother, clean up your own shit,” I glared at him.

He grabbed the bucket to take it to the dishwasher sink and turned on the hot water.

Barney saddled up next to me, ”Do you ever get deja vu?”

“We just work a lot Barney,” I brushed him off. 

In retaliation, the Sous Chef left so I had to take his spot and work into the night. Dinner service was surprisingly slow. I felt the hours squeak by until finally it was 11 p.m. I still had some potatoes to finish peeling but I said forget it, I can do it in the morning.  I saw the Sous Chef’s knives still in the sani bucket. Pettily, I put the bucket in the freezer.  I clocked out and hit the lights. 

I walked home, avoiding as much tall snow as I could, though I was soaked by the time I made it into my apartment. After a shower, I collapsed into bed.

The next day, I nodded to the front desk lady as I strode through the lobby, “Happy Daylight Savings,” she cheerfully said, putting her hair up with a purple hair tie. The phone started ringing. 

I froze.