But here goes....
One coworker has been out of town since Thursday, so I worked 6 days this week. I worked yesterday instead of being off, which almost seemed like a waste because we were pretty slow.
So, today, even though I knew there wasn't too much prep, I went left to go to work early, like I always do on Sundays. I had to drop Rudy off at Petropolis Park, which means I had to drive down 26th street. Which means I had to go through the roundabout on Hollywood Blvd. At the circle, I had a red light, so I waited for it to turn green. As I went around the circle, I looked for other cars. I saw one car as I was turning the corner, a cop car, but it was still a little far, so I kept going. And then I went all the way to the right to make the turn.
And then the cop car lights turned on. I stopped at the first driveway after the turn. I turned off the music. And the few seconds before the police woman approached the car, I thought about what I did wrong and how much Rudy was going to bark.
He barked a lot. I rolled the window down a crack as he barked. The police woman asked me if I knew what yield meant. I said yes. She said, then why didn't you yield. I said that I didn't see her until I was already turning. To this she replied, then when I saw her I should have yielded. Then she kept yelling at me about how I just could have cost myself a $200 ticket, and some other stuff. I couldn't really hear everything she said, because Rudy was barking his head off.
Fair enough. I guess I fucked up. My judgement was off. She pulled away. And then I started to cry. This week had been enough of an emotional roller coaster, and this incident was the icing, the colored jimmies, and the cherry on top of my cake.
Peachy. And then I had to put the car in drive, drop off Rudy, and then go into work for a day that was sure to be stressful as fuck.
So, I got to work and started doing my stuff. The chef showed up right around 8. About 5 minutes later, he said, "I bet this will be the day that ____ (the other cook) sleeps in. So, a couple more minutes pass, and he says, "should I call him now?" I told him to give it a few more minutes. He gave it 10 - 15 minutes, and then he went outside to try to call.
Meanwhile, I was taking my biscuits out of the oven. I went to transfer them to a smaller pan, and then I was going to put them on the shelf where they go for service. This is the shelf next to the hot line where all the plates, metal and plastic pans and utensils go. There was a lot of shit on the shelf, so I was pushing everything over, when something fell, and poked my eye. I was unsure what had happened - I was stunned. I reached out, and felt the pasta basket hanging. I grabbed it, but it was stuck. I reached up to my eye, and realized it was hooked somehow into my top eyelid. I tried to unhook it as calmly as possible, and it came out. I looked at the hook. One of the wires on the bottom of the basket had broken and formed a little hook.
A little hook that had caught my eye!
I realized that I couldn't see properly out of this eye - my right eye. I didn't want to feel around for the contact without a mirror. I looked down on the ground and happened to miraculously spot my contact right where I had been standing. So, I picked it up and ran for my bag. I was pretty sure I had saline solution in my bag. As I was grabbing the saline, one of the owners walked in the back door. He said a cheery "Hi!". I said "Hi" and then I pretty much ran to the bathroom.
I ran to the mirror. Besides the artery that is permanently showing across my eye from wearing disposable contacts longer than I'm supposed to, I didn't see anything weird. No blood, no bump on my eyelid, no scratch or open wound. My eyelid was slightly tender, but nothing I would even notice if I didn't notice that I had just had a wire hook in my eye!
I rinsed my contact out very well, and then I put it back in my eye. And I could see.
So, I went back into the kitchen and continued my work. The chef said that the other cook had not answered his phone. He asked if I was ok. I said yes, and I think I said that I couldn't talk about it right then.
I mean, I was majorly freaked out!!! As I tell this story again, I still feel weak from reliving the ordeal.
After a while, the other cook called the chef and told him that he was on his way.
We were busy as hell. But there were 4 of us working on the line, so everyone was all up in my business. At one point they were all crowding me, putting english muffins on the plates, and putting shit on the english muffins that were on the orders that were supposed to go out later, not sooner. So, I had to wait on my poached eggs and english muffins for the orders that needed to go out first, since they had already assembled the others, and I couldn't take an english muffin out from under short rib meat and put a crab cake or spinach on it....
Anyway, we got through the day, and my eye, besides the lid being a little tender, and my vision being slightly foggy at times, seems fine. I use America's Best, so if my eye feels weird later, I suppose I can go in and have someone look at it without having to pay extra. But we'll just see how I feel.
I need a fucking staycation!!!!!!!!!!
LOL... the chef just called me to ask what had happened. The owner had told him that when he walked in I ran off crying.
What a fucking day. I need a drink!!!!!
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