That was a quick run.
I haven't worked for even a week when my position as a food runner at the Beacon Street Tavern came to an end.
The manager or what I like to call him, the Irish General Patton liked me and I did him. We related on an intuitive level. I picked up on his nods and looks while being quick on my feet. I took his barking kitchen codes like "Table top four is on fire" and "Focus, 86 that dish" decoding the meaning then following the orders. I was diplomatic when choosing what dishes went out first and whose hands got either a scalding hot plate or a heavy dish of oysters. Everything was going smoothly considering my second day fell on Valentine's Day, the most popular night to dine out.
Then the owner reviewed my resume saw I had no previous restaurant experience and that was the end of my career at the Tavern. I'm not taking it personal, as the manager advised me to do. I see it as starting to become part of a team and getting the early cut.
Time to embark on a new challenge.
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