HINJFCA Part Eight

Okay, so where was I? 

Oh yeah, wrapping up events that have led me to my present circumstances at the Salvation Army.  Well, you already know that I've been assigned to the kitchens.  This is in conjunction with a culinary program they sponsor with the State of Nevada and a local college.  You have to gain some experience in food service before they'll interview you for entrance into the culinary program.  It's evidently a big deal, as SA will pay all costs (tuition, books, uniforms, tools, etc) associated with the program while also providing transportation to and from the college.  Here's the kicker:  once you sign your name to the dotted line, there's no turning back.  That means if you accept the offer and later change your mind, you're on the hook for the full cost of the culinary program; in addition, you get booted out of Salvation Army as well.

So it's obviously an important decision, one you can't make lightly.  I'm scheduled to go in this Tuesday for a formal interview with the people who run the program.  Lord knows how that will go.  But some other kitchen workers who have enrolled say acceptance is pretty much a given since they're desperate to meet a quota:  They need at least 15 people to enroll in order to have the program at all.  So far they apparently have 6-7.  I'll really have to give this some thought because I'll tell you straight out that I don't especially enjoy the work associated with the kitchen.  One thing I didn't count on was the sheer weight of the items I've encountered in this work.  It's not uncommon for food pans and drink coolers (filled) to weigh 50 pounds.  While that weight is negligible for some of the guys who spent their days pumping iron in prison, it's a bit much for your humble narrator to bear.  And you know that saying about too many cooks?  Trust me, it's based on fact.

While giving you some updates on current events, let me tell you that it's been 30 days since my acceptance into the vocational program.  That's an important mark because many of the clients don't make it that far -- no kidding.  It's not uncommon to new new faces pop up every few days, only to have them disappear soon after.  Make no mistake that while SA is a charitable organization, to are strict in their rules and swift to act when any of those rules are broken.  Many clients get busted for the big infractions:  Caught with drugs in their possession or failing a random drug test; also known as 'pissing dirty' or 'dropping a dirty', this is likely the most common reason clients are dismissed.  Of course sheer stupidity on the part of a client is common as well:  One woman decided it was a great idea to drink a 40-ouncer right in front of a video monitor.  Obviously not ready for her close-up. 

Once an offense is confirmed SA wastes no time in getting the offender off the premises.  Even smaller offenses like failing a random room inspection can result in trouble.  The other day I and my roommates were subject to such an inspection.  One of the guys got a citation for leaving his bed messy (it was) and was given a citation.  As a first offense, likely nothing will happen.  But SA takes even the smaller details seriously, and those small infractions, if continued, can result in dismissal.  I suppose SA has the right, since they're footing the bill for all this.  Also, I think clients forget the fact that they stay and work with/for SA at the behest of the organization.  Perhaps it's human nature but I've found that many clients and homeless people get awfully picky about the things they are given (most often free of charge).  Beggars can't be choosers doesn't apply to many of these guys.  There's no law that says SA (or anyone) has to provide the services they do. 

On a much smaller scale, there was an incident with the flat screen TV in the common area.  That being, clients fighting over the remote control in order to decide which program to watch.  The shouting got so loud that it was heard by the Big Man (that being the SA Director of Operations), who later decreed a much stricter schedule for watching TV.  It doesn't affect me so much because there's rarely anything on that I want to watch (aside from football).  Besides, I didn't join the program to watch TV.  But the Big Man right pointed out that watching TV in the common room is a privilege, not a right.  Too many clients seem to forget that.

30 days is also important within the SA program because that's when the client receives their first review.  Your humble narrator is proud to announce that he aced his caseworker's review by scoring 100%.  No infractions, no write-ups, no conflicts, etc.  While I thought that was par for the course, I was told many guys can't make it that far without some sort of confrontation.  Anyway, yours truly has been a good, boring lad and so made the cut, which includes a bump-up in gratuity as well.  I'm proud to tell you that based upon a 40-hour work week I'm now making app. .33-cents/hour.  Take that, Bill Gates!  My other review was for my job performance as rated by my kitchen boss.  A bit misleading since I've only been in the kitchen two weeks or so, but 30 days is 30 days I guess. Anyway, I scored a 98 out of 100.  My drawbacks were speed in preparing food and taking initiative in finding stuff to do ... or asking what to do.  I'm not really sure.  Listening might be a drawback, now that I think of it.  Anyway, I was a good enough review.  I signed off and was feeling pretty good  about myself.  Two good reviews in the same day.  And then ... tragedy.

Well, that's a strong word.  More like 'unnecessary annoyance set in'.  I'll be detailing these co-workers in upcoming installments but for now let me say I like the kitchen boss.  He's one of the loudest individuals I've ever met, but he's a good guy overall and really knows the food service industry.  Because he oversees the entire kitchen he's not always around to train me, so that duty falls to his second in command.  This is a hulking Hawaiian dude who, no surprise, is an ex-con.  His backstory of dealing drugs and fighting with various gang bosses in Los Angeles sounds like a Miami Vice episode; Michael Mann would love this stuff, very crime noir.  That aside, this Hawaiian dude is a good guy, but a bad supervisor.  He knows his stuff in terms of food preparation, but his people skills are about as delicate as a boulder rolling downhill.  In short, he has a tendency to tell me 3-4 things to do, then walk off without showing me how to do any of the tasks(!).  Or he lets his emotions come to the fore and show his anger by giving off looks and vibes like he wants to run a knife through my throat.

My guess is that that kind of approach worked well in prison.  But in the 'real world', I have the feeling he'd get a lot of employee complaints about his manner and approach.  Then again, maybe it's me.  I'm the first to admit I have a lot to learn about the culinary trade.  Maybe it's just not my thing.  Yet it seems my inexperience might be taken into consideration, at least to a degree.  From what I can tell, most of the guys there have at least some small previous experience in the food industry.  I'm supposed to know everything in two weeks time?  I will say, though, that I kind of like serving food along 'the line.'  That is, taking orders, putting the food together, serving the customers.  I think I like it because it's fairly nonstop and I get a chance to talk with people; time seems to go by quicker when I'm in that position.  Could be it's the only thing close to performing the SA kitchen provides.  I actually think my sense of humor might be one of the things that keeps my situation as bearable as it is.

Anyway, the Hawaiian hulk dude and I have a few words.  No strong, no shouting or anything like that.  But it's the closest I've come to having an actual 'confrontation' as such. Basically he said I was too slow.  He was upset because another area of the kitchen I'd been working in -- along with 3 others -- was left unmopped.  My 'punishment' was to mop the whole area myself, so that it would 'never happen again'.  Yeesh.  There are times when I like to make smartass, offhand comments when confronted by such self-important, petty blather.  I didn't this time because A) I didn't want to get squashed like a bug; and 2) I actually wanted to hear what he had to say; which as it turned out was nothing memorable.  I inwardly rolled my eyes. 

He said something to the effect of "You may think I'm harsh, but I'm a good guy."  I said, "I do think you're a good guy.  You're just not a good supervisor."  Since I'm here writing these words, I didn't get squashed.  More interesting, he didn't reply even though I know he heard me.  Maybe his reply was in not speaking to me the rest of the day.  And do you want to know something ironic?  I later checked with the people I was working with and found that they had already mopped the floor hours earlier(!).  It made me wonder if Mr. Hawaiian Punch wasn't making the matter personal.  Funny, isn't it.  A few weeks ago I was writing about trying to keep a roof over my head and stay off the streets.  Now I'm writing about petty confrontations with co-workers.  I wonder if I'm taking too much of my SA experience for granted?  It seems to easy -- too easy -- to slip back into familiar patterns of human behavior, regardless of how serious our circumstances.

Hmm.  This session is coming to a close, and I still haven't managed to wrap up some loose ends of my tale.  Hang loose, my brethren.  We'll certainly tie up those threads in the next installment, or my name isn't Bullwinkle J. Moose!  It isn't, but so what?