Black silhouette guy was driving the workman's comp premiums through the roof
From the statistics I get through WordPress, I can tell that about half my traffic comes from search engines. Which is cool and I enjoy seeing what people search for to end up at my blog. The other half is people who came here via a link someone posted or have the page bookmarked. For the second group, I have been trying to think of some way to make this blog more interactive. I try to ask at the end of most posts for feedback and don’t get many takers. The thing is that I know many of you have far more interesting takes on any number of the topics discussed in this blog. So today I am going to try a new feature called “Story Time.”
The idea of Story Time is that everyone has a story to tell about certain topics. They are the stories that get pulled out after work at the bar or in side stations while waiting for a table. I have a favorite story for most of these topics. I am sure you do too. So just pretend that you are sitting around a high top sipping a cool beverage and tell your tale in the comments section.
Read the full post at Restaurant Laughs
I don’t think I can actually beat it – the first thing that comes to mind in my experience is something that happened to me, and it’s pretty boring.
I worked at a German restaurant here in town for exactly one year to the day. It was the worst job, hands down, that I have ever, ever had, and the day the place burned down I thought it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving hell-hole.
The place was falling apart, for one thing – whenever it rained water came through the roof and into the light fixtures (so it should come as no surprise that it burned down). The cooks were verbally and physically abusive, one was a psychopath, half the waitresses were snorting coke in the bathrooms during their shifts and were drunk by the time lunchtime rolled around, and there was a crack-addicted busboy who ended up standing on the bar, waving a gun and screaming that he was going to kill everyone one day. I wasn’t at work that day, fortunately.
But I digress (and I could go on and on). I went one day to fill the ice bucket for the bar and the entire door of the ice machine fell off onto my foot and broke my toe. I was so relieved to have two weeks off with worker’s comp it made me realize I needed to find another job.
And I did.
Sorry it’s boring, David, but that’s all I got right now! Someone needs to top it.
I don’t think I can actually beat it – the first thing that comes to mind in my experience is something that happened to me, and it’s pretty boring.
I worked at a German restaurant here in town for exactly one year to the day. It was the worst job, hands down, that I have ever, ever had, and the day the place burned down I thought it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving hell-hole.
The place was falling apart, for one thing – whenever it rained water came through the roof and into the light fixtures (so it should come as no surprise that it burned down). The cooks were verbally and physically abusive, one was a psychopath, half the waitresses were snorting coke in the bathrooms during their shifts and were drunk by the time lunchtime rolled around, and there was a crack-addicted busboy who ended up standing on the bar, waving a gun and screaming that he was going to kill everyone one day. I wasn’t at work that day, fortunately.
But I digress (and I could go on and on). I went one day to fill the ice bucket for the bar and the entire door of the ice machine fell off onto my foot and broke my toe. I was so relieved to have two weeks off with worker’s comp it made me realize I needed to find another job.
And I did.
Sorry it’s boring, David, but that’s all I got right now! Someone needs to top it.
Your story was great for the atmosphere you created. I don’t think I’ve worked in a place that bad.
I worked with this guy years and years ago who had cerebral palsy. He was a hell of a worker, but if there was one piece of ice anywhere on the floor in the restaurant, he would find it and fall flat on his back. Usually he would find the ice while carrying a stack of plates, or a full bus tub. It was never quiet and always embarrassing. Okay, so maybe that’s not a funny story.
I wear Crocs. Our floors are painted cement and when you add water or ice or barbeque sauce, you get an interesting day at work. So far I’ve fallen and slid under the buser station, fallen to my knees with a stack of plates and didn’t drop one, fallen to my knees carrying food, and served the food to the table while still on my knees, and fallen in the Indian crossleg seated position. I know when I start falling, it’s time for a new pair of Crocs.
Recently, Boy Cook Jarrod tried to put a side dish on one of the plates I was holding. As he pushed down, I pushed up and shoved his hand on the heating element of the food warmer. He didn’t scream or anything, but my plates were really, really hot for about a week after.
We are all pretty safe, so I don’t have many good injury stories.
Your story was great for the atmosphere you created. I don’t think I’ve worked in a place that bad.
I worked with this guy years and years ago who had cerebral palsy. He was a hell of a worker, but if there was one piece of ice anywhere on the floor in the restaurant, he would find it and fall flat on his back. Usually he would find the ice while carrying a stack of plates, or a full bus tub. It was never quiet and always embarrassing. Okay, so maybe that’s not a funny story.
I wear Crocs. Our floors are painted cement and when you add water or ice or barbeque sauce, you get an interesting day at work. So far I’ve fallen and slid under the buser station, fallen to my knees with a stack of plates and didn’t drop one, fallen to my knees carrying food, and served the food to the table while still on my knees, and fallen in the Indian crossleg seated position. I know when I start falling, it’s time for a new pair of Crocs.
Recently, Boy Cook Jarrod tried to put a side dish on one of the plates I was holding. As he pushed down, I pushed up and shoved his hand on the heating element of the food warmer. He didn’t scream or anything, but my plates were really, really hot for about a week after.
We are all pretty safe, so I don’t have many good injury stories.
One time I was working as an expo and part of my job was to organize the dishes we kept on top of the plate warmers. I had this little step ladder I used because the dishwashers liked to stack the plates so high nobody could reach them. So I am standing on the stepladder, and my ankle gives out. Instead of jumping off the foot and a half high step I was on, I grabbed onto the heating element. In the confusion of it all, I held onto the heating element for a few seconds before I realized what had happened. I think if I would have fallen on my back it would have hurt a lot less than burning my hand.
I thought it was hilarious right away, and when everyone saw me laughing about it they joined right in for weeks. They kept telling my not to grab the heater its hot. I think I learned that one, but thanks to all my co-workers for reminding me over and over.
One time I was working as an expo and part of my job was to organize the dishes we kept on top of the plate warmers. I had this little step ladder I used because the dishwashers liked to stack the plates so high nobody could reach them. So I am standing on the stepladder, and my ankle gives out. Instead of jumping off the foot and a half high step I was on, I grabbed onto the heating element. In the confusion of it all, I held onto the heating element for a few seconds before I realized what had happened. I think if I would have fallen on my back it would have hurt a lot less than burning my hand.
I thought it was hilarious right away, and when everyone saw me laughing about it they joined right in for weeks. They kept telling my not to grab the heater its hot. I think I learned that one, but thanks to all my co-workers for reminding me over and over.
I haven’t ever injured myself too badly at the restaurant. But at Crate i’m a terrible disaster. A few years ago and teakettle fell on my thumb and broke it. It turned all sorts of terrible colors and i had to have it all braced up for months. And when people asked i couldn’t keep my lies straight, so i eventually had to tell them the truth that i was the victim of a freak teakettle accident. Also, that scar right above my upper lip? A springform pan fell on my face from a top shelf. It swelled up and bled all over the place, i went back to Colorado the next week for thanksgiving with a bruise mustache. Those two are the most prominent, but i’ve also dropped cast iron griddles on my foot, fallen off ladders, and of course, cut my self to bits and pieces with broken glass left in stupid places. – Ali
I haven’t ever injured myself too badly at the restaurant. But at Crate i’m a terrible disaster. A few years ago and teakettle fell on my thumb and broke it. It turned all sorts of terrible colors and i had to have it all braced up for months. And when people asked i couldn’t keep my lies straight, so i eventually had to tell them the truth that i was the victim of a freak teakettle accident. Also, that scar right above my upper lip? A springform pan fell on my face from a top shelf. It swelled up and bled all over the place, i went back to Colorado the next week for thanksgiving with a bruise mustache. Those two are the most prominent, but i’ve also dropped cast iron griddles on my foot, fallen off ladders, and of course, cut my self to bits and pieces with broken glass left in stupid places. – Ali
Oh How funny! You’re still logged in on to your blog on my computer. I’m you right now. I’ll log you off. – Ali
Oh How funny! You’re still logged in on to your blog on my computer. I’m you right now. I’ll log you off. – Ali
I worked with a guy named Leo a long, long time ago. Leo liked to partake in a little herb before, during and after his shift. He made the mistake once of doing so and also having a few shots before his shift.
Leo was a fry cook. Leo dropped his towel in the deep fryer. Leo reached in after it. Poor Leo.
I worked with a guy named Leo a long, long time ago. Leo liked to partake in a little herb before, during and after his shift. He made the mistake once of doing so and also having a few shots before his shift.
Leo was a fry cook. Leo dropped his towel in the deep fryer. Leo reached in after it. Poor Leo.
Well, my husband isn’t in the business of serving, but he is the most accident prone person I know. Most of his accidents at work aren’t funny and he will pay with pain for the rest of his life. He has pins, plates and screws in 3 fingers (two different accidents), shoulder, leg and foot as a result of 4 emergency room dashes. Hydraulics, ladders, motorcycles and him don’t get along well. The funniest accident didn’t involve work at a place of employment at the others did nor a hospital trip, but it did involve a table saw and oak. Of course when you put him anywhere near power tools, I try to stay close and ready with the keys to make the next run. He was cutting oak trim and it got stuck. Instead of turning off the saw and pulling it out, he opted to push it with another piece of wood. The backlash was frightening and I grabbed my purse. The piece of oak flew backwards at a high rate of speed and hit him square in the chest. I screamed as he went down. I figured when he stood up the wood would be sticking through his chest. It wasn’t (knock on wood), but when he rose from the ground, he was trying to fight off the pain. His chest was instantly bruised and he was flexing and growling to keep from crying like a baby. He looked like the Hulk bringing his fists out and in. Now that I knew he wasn’t crucified like a vampire, I began laughing hysterically. I had the Hulk GGGGRRRING and stomping around the garage. I know if he could have moved and caught me he would have crushed me, but it is still funny today. The man may never be able to walk through a metal detector, but he could check out the field stunt double for Lou Ferrigno.
Good gravy, Laura, that’s hysterical! You paint a pretty hilarious picture – I can totally see it.
Again, not me, but a coworker from when I was a manager:
I am NOT squeamish. I am also the person who responds quickly and calmly when there’s an emergency situation, and blood, even buckets of it, has never really bothered me (of course, if you put a spider in front of me I turn into a quivering mess).
I worked in a restaurant in Westport called The Souper (the best place I ever worked – not the best job, but the place was wonderful, with great food and ethics and coworkers and customers). One of the dishwashers’ duties was to wrap trays of mousse in snifters after they’d cooled and we had permanent plastic wrap dispensers made from steel that had a row of teeth. They were aptly called “Jaws.” You may know where this is headed by now. So this DW was doing his duty and had the Jaws set on top of one of those linen hampers that’s just a wire stand to hold open a large cotton bag – very unstable surface! And it wobbles, the Jaws starts to slide off and he reaches for it.
Nothing was severed BUT, there was a jagged cut across his fingers and he walked into my office, came up behind me as I was standing at the locker where we kept recipes and other precious items, and he said, “Hey Becky!” and I turned around as he held his hand directly in my face. I saw meat and goo hanging from his fingers, smelled blood and instantly saw stars. He had to grab ME as I started to faint and instantly recovered.
I ran him to St. Luke’s and he had 25 stitches. It’s one of two episodes of vasovagal syncope I’ve experienced.
Well, my husband isn’t in the business of serving, but he is the most accident prone person I know. Most of his accidents at work aren’t funny and he will pay with pain for the rest of his life. He has pins, plates and screws in 3 fingers (two different accidents), shoulder, leg and foot as a result of 4 emergency room dashes. Hydraulics, ladders, motorcycles and him don’t get along well. The funniest accident didn’t involve work at a place of employment at the others did nor a hospital trip, but it did involve a table saw and oak. Of course when you put him anywhere near power tools, I try to stay close and ready with the keys to make the next run. He was cutting oak trim and it got stuck. Instead of turning off the saw and pulling it out, he opted to push it with another piece of wood. The backlash was frightening and I grabbed my purse. The piece of oak flew backwards at a high rate of speed and hit him square in the chest. I screamed as he went down. I figured when he stood up the wood would be sticking through his chest. It wasn’t (knock on wood), but when he rose from the ground, he was trying to fight off the pain. His chest was instantly bruised and he was flexing and growling to keep from crying like a baby. He looked like the Hulk bringing his fists out and in. Now that I knew he wasn’t crucified like a vampire, I began laughing hysterically. I had the Hulk GGGGRRRING and stomping around the garage. I know if he could have moved and caught me he would have crushed me, but it is still funny today. The man may never be able to walk through a metal detector, but he could check out the field stunt double for Lou Ferrigno.
Good gravy, Laura, that’s hysterical! You paint a pretty hilarious picture – I can totally see it.
Again, not me, but a coworker from when I was a manager:
I am NOT squeamish. I am also the person who responds quickly and calmly when there’s an emergency situation, and blood, even buckets of it, has never really bothered me (of course, if you put a spider in front of me I turn into a quivering mess).
I worked in a restaurant in Westport called The Souper (the best place I ever worked – not the best job, but the place was wonderful, with great food and ethics and coworkers and customers). One of the dishwashers’ duties was to wrap trays of mousse in snifters after they’d cooled and we had permanent plastic wrap dispensers made from steel that had a row of teeth. They were aptly called “Jaws.” You may know where this is headed by now. So this DW was doing his duty and had the Jaws set on top of one of those linen hampers that’s just a wire stand to hold open a large cotton bag – very unstable surface! And it wobbles, the Jaws starts to slide off and he reaches for it.
Nothing was severed BUT, there was a jagged cut across his fingers and he walked into my office, came up behind me as I was standing at the locker where we kept recipes and other precious items, and he said, “Hey Becky!” and I turned around as he held his hand directly in my face. I saw meat and goo hanging from his fingers, smelled blood and instantly saw stars. He had to grab ME as I started to faint and instantly recovered.
I ran him to St. Luke’s and he had 25 stitches. It’s one of two episodes of vasovagal syncope I’ve experienced.
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