Hey Napoleon!

                In this entry I wanted to begin by backtracking a little bit. For those of you who don’t know me very well, it might help for me to give you a little background information about myself so that you understand some of my perceptions.  I come from a very loving home.  I am the middle of five children (Heather, Matthew, Megan, Jacob, Caleb) and we were thankfully raised right by my parents, Doo Doo and Tha Suze.  It was a very conservative, sheltered environment in which I was able to flourish.  In high school I was the goody two shoes over achiever, and I think I was 18 the first time I ever uttered a cuss word.   When I previously mentioned I come from a small town, I’m talking population 2,300 or so in the heart of the Bible Belt.  People leading “alternative lifestyles” weren’t really something you saw widely accepted where I come from, and that’s just the truth.   I always found it kind of weird that Christianity reigned supreme, but there was so much intolerance toward anyone or anything that didn’t fit into the mold.  Heck, I was made fun of in high school because I wasn’t part of the congregational norm.  My family is LDS, aka “Mormon”.  I know how this is sounding, circa age 18 ½  I started getting the “rebel itch”. 

Which reminds me, for those of you who have been following, I just remembered that I was actually 20 when I made the move, not 19.  I was 19 going into that last year of school, and I turned 20 that fall.  I forget how old I am now, sorry for the confusion.  However, same age bracket, same level of not knowing your butt from a hole in the ground. 

Onward: So, Wednesday, August 13, 2008 I arrived at the restaurant wearing a yellow blouse and black trousers.  I came in through the side door, and when my eyes beheld what was in front of me I had to do a double take.  The first thing I noticed was the curly, sandy blonde fro.  Then as he turned around, and at first sight of his face, I had to seriously question myself. “Hi, I’m ******, you’re one of the new girls, right?”

This dude seriously looked EXACTLY like Napoleon Dynamite.

  I jest ye not, it was uncanny.  The resemblance was so shocking, I even asked him later on that day “umm…has anyone ever told you that you look exactly like, um, John Heder?”  His response: “Yeah, I’ve heard that before, but I don’t see it”. 

Obviously, my first character to be discussed, codename: Napoleon.  There was another very nice young man working that day with blonde hair, charming speech, and beautiful clothes. He was my first up close glimpse of that “alternative lifestyle”.  He was such a sweetheart, so codename: Sweetie Pie.

Thus began my day, with Napoleon and the Sweetie Pie.  They started showing me the ropes on how to do stuff, “coffee, in a filter, in the coffee maker,” stated Napoleon.  “White table cloths, butcher paper, plates, napkins,” chimed in sweetie pie. “Oh yeah, and we make our own drinks everyday,”  Napoleon chirped.  I’ll be completely honest, the fact that I had JUST came from a restaurant where all I had to do was refill my sugar caddies and sweep my section at the end of the shift  made all of the prep crap look pretty lame.  That was my lazy side thinking, though.

“Let me show you how to cut the Limes,” Napoleon offered. Little did I know that over the course of four years, I would cut close to one million.  Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but dammit I cut a lot of freaking limes!

When service began for the day, after an hour and a half of prepping, I began to see all of the beautiful food coming out of the window.  I had never seen food like this before in my entire life.  If it wasn’t American food, I.e. , Chili’s, Cheddar’s, TGIF’S, etc.. OR not covered in beans, cheese, and served with tortilla chips, I was at a loss.  Actually, thanks to my Cajun roots, I did know most of that stuff too.  This stuff, however, was a HUGE mystery.  I remember that first week when I had to try the ceviche.  Fish marinated in lime juice? What the hell?  In that moment I wasn’t a huge fan, but as time passed it became a staple and something that I craved.  By the way, it’s super healthy too.  A lot of cuisine there was healthy.  As I started to meet more of my coworkers, I started to be more exposed to weird ideas like veganism and being conscious of planet earth.  “Hi, my name is Megan, and I like to eat meat and use Clorox products when I clean my house.” Oh no, no, no.  I was about to get schooled in environmental consciousness, but we’ll save that for future blogs. 

Napoleon was a very interesting character.  He had served in the Navy, but had to be released for health issues.  He was the kind of guy to tell you EXACTLY what he was thinking, and  not really one of those to keep comments to himself.  He was the one who informed me of the sexual orientation of everyone who worked there.  He also knew all of the juicy gossip, as if I cared.  I was in a severe cultural shock.  He also made a Mormon joke on my first day, and when he noticed the awkward expression on my face he said, “Oh crap, you’re a Mormon aren’t you?” 

Unfortunately, that October Napoleon was relieved of his duties at the restaurant for not showing up on Halloween night.  A few years later in passing he told me that he really regretted doing that.  Listen, there was a lot of prep to do at this place, and like everywhere it had its crap, but compared to other restaurants around town it was like a haven. 

In conclusion, my first day was not as expected.  I was told by the boss that I was going to start out as a back waiter (server slave), and work my way up.  My own progression would determine how quickly I would become a server, and it would also determine how quickly I would be able to move into night time shifts.

 I had no idea what I was getting myself into.