The year 1986- my first job after high school was at Chi Chi’s restaurant on Regent. I started off as a dishwasher but after a month worked my way up to cold food preparation/line cook/receiver/jack of all trades. Food wars in the kitchen were common; you always had to watch your back in case a tomato or guacamole was fired at your head. My best wars were with my buddy Brian. It started off tame but quickly escalated to painful. He first upped the ante with a raw hamburger patty. I was crouching down getting something out of the oven when he came out of nowhere and slapped that raw patty with all his force – square in the middle of my back. Every square inch of that patty hit me. They probably heard the smack in the dining room. All I could do was fall to the ground and writhe in pain. That is still the most pain I have ever been in. The next day I went into the fridge- took out five or so lemons- squeezed a cupful of juice out of them. I then walked to the back area where Brian was doing inventory. I was pretending to drink my juice (he didn’t know what it was) while talking to him. I said “Boy, that freakin hurt yesterday, I wonder if this will feel the same” – He said “WHAT?” I then threw the cup of juice right in his face. Let me tell you folks lemon juice burns. He was screaming, laughing, and choking all at the same time. He ran to the bathroom to rinse his face and eyes out. When he finally came out of the can he looked like he hadn’t slept in three years. His eyes were red like fire- could barely open them. He laughed and said “GOOD ONE – WAIT TILL TOMORROW”. I laughed but I was really scared. We were really good friends (I was in his wedding party) and it was 100% all in fun- but it this was getting dangerous. I thought to myself “I’m going to end up in the hospital tomorrow”. The next day I came to work looking around every corner, behind me, above me, everywhere. Half way through work I was in the middle of the kitchen making salsa when I heard a scream “BONZAAI”. I turn around to see Brian rounding the corner with some kind of giant orange ball. (I later found out it was a giant cheese ball that was soaked in water and frozen in the freezer). I saw him pull his arm back like a baseball pitcher- I dived for cover. He was so in THE ZONE of kill he didn’t see he was standing under the metal canopy over the stove. His arm came over to throw the ball of death but it was stopped as he slammed his hand into the canopy full force. This time his scream was in pain. As it turns out he was the one who had to go to the hospital. He had a badly sprained wrist, a broken finger, and four fingernails which turned black and eventually fell off. He called me later that night and we agreed to a truce. When he came back to work a few days later we both made our own giant cheeseball of death- took some decorative plates from the dining room wall, lined them up on the fence and let the cheeseballs fly.
Other notable events - A kitchen manager stabbed a mouse on the floor with a fork in the dining room before customers saw it.
We used to get ground beef in packages, open them and dump them in a big tote container- then put it in the fridge. A tub was misplaced and left in the back room; other boxes got piled on top of it. A month later I’m cleaning the storeroom when I find this tub, I open it not knowing what’s inside. I immediately get smacked in the face with a stench that almost floors me. It was a hundred pounds of oozing blue green brown slimy soup of rotten meat. I’m sure it moved. I had a flashback of “THE FRUIT” (SEE EARLIER BLOG) and thought it had finally found me. That was scary.
Word got around Chi Chi’s that Darcy (the 6 foot 3 line cook) saw a rat outside by the dumpster that was as big as a cat- and he majorly freaked out and wouldn’t take the garbage out anymore. I took this opportunity to go to the store and buy a big fake rubber rat which I put in the store room on a shelf behind a box. I ask Darcy to get me a box of canned tomatoes. He goes to the storeroom with me following him closely behind. He grabs the box but doesn’t see the rat- so I say “what’s that” and point to it. He turns- sees it- starts screaming like a girl- knocks me down and tramples me in his mad terrified frenzy to escape. I hurt my elbow but it was well worth it. On a side note - about 5 years later when I worked at Club Regent I myself saw a rat that was as big if not bigger than a cat.
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