La Mujer de Tortillas no le gusta frijoles y pollllllloooooo.

I am starting to hate chicken...and beef...and rice...and fucking beans...and jalepenos...and onions...and salsa. Fuckin-A. Mexican food used to be one of my favorite foods ever. Dude...I feel like a burrito. Not any more. I hate em. I don't ever want to look at sour cream, tortillas, or taco beef again.
And this is my first week. Good God, what am I going to do? Working alongside food all day truly makes you not care about it. A steak doesn't look good when you have to cut up about 50 pounds of it and cook it all. And visualize your fingers getting chopped in the process. Rice doesn't have the same appeal when you make a vat of it that is half your size. This could be a great diet. Want to learn how to hate food? Fucking work in the kitchen of a restaurant. It's just a matter of time before you look at all of your favorite foods with a painful grimace.
Today I got to work the grill. I fucked up on some of the meat, but successfuly came home with ten fingers. I spilled a shitload of oil all over the back of the kitchen (ha) and cut open like 3 huge bags of veggies (only needed one) and started mixing chopped veggies instead of shredded fajita veggies (OOPS). I felt bad at first and then was like, what the hell. Not my money, I'm not getting paid by the hour, so fuck it.
Yesterday I drove one of the managers to the hospital after he sliced through his finger (to the bone). Keep in mind that this is the same guy that always jumps to my aide whenever I look like I am fucking up on anything. And to him, I am fucking up with EVERYTHING. It was dark humor-odd that he'd be the guy to dice too far and I was so sick to my stomach watching his finger bleed. I think I'd be the one to pass out if anyone hurt themselves on my watch. Anyway...I drove the dude to the hospital, he got all fixed up, and is still trying to help me in everything I do, despite his huge finger cast and bandages.
I feel like I am an adult now, with a shitty work schedule as I get up at 6 and work all day until 6. But then I feel like a fucking reject for the fact that I am in a restaurant. And a half assed one at that, due to the semi-fast/semi-sit down existance.
Every once in a blue moon I see a hot guy walk in...not going to meet anyone cool working at the burrito shack.
My future flame's friend: "Who's that swell girl you've met that you are going out with next week?"
Flame: "Oh...she's so cool! I met her at the Burrito Burrow. She works there every day. I guess the jeans and Tortilla hat are what really did it for me. That and she smells like my favorite food! I was smitten."
I am so screwed.
It's kinda hard to smile at the hot guy next to you when driving home, when you are covered in sour cream and wearing a black Taco hat.
I think I am going to pretend that I don't know English during my stint in the back of the house for my training. It works for all the Mexicans, they TOTALLY know what I'm talking about, but they act like I am a bumbling idiot. Even when I say, "Me GUSTA frijoles y quessssssoooooo." They look at me all funny.
Fuckers know what I'm talking about.
Whenever I pop out of the back it is quite odd to see who comes in to eat. And they always give me looks of pity. I wonder what they are thinking.
Taco Eater: "Wow...look at that, a 20+ white girl scrubbing dishes and scooping out beans and rice...what is she doing back there?"
Burrito Eater: "I wonder if she has a criminal? Can't speak English? Can't read? Failed out of school? Has a crack problem?"
I don't really know how long this is going to pan out, but I can pretend that I am 15 and hope for the best. If I get a shitload of acne like all the stereotypical meat flippers then I am high tailing it out of there.
ahahhaha. I am watching a weird movie, Die Mommy Die! This dude just told his mom that he was kicked out of school for starting a homosexual orgy...etc. The mom (guy in drag) is like..."Be honest. I'll be there for you 100% of the way...Are you a cocksucker?" =)