As in 2 weeks. As in my final 2 weeks at Salvation Army. Yeah, you read that right: I m preparing to depart the SA – complete with honorable discharge (that's what she said) – in a mere two weeks. So consider this a formal 2 weeks notice for SA, Las Vegas, and the entire state of Nevada. Because I'm heading east, to ...
But your humble narrator is getting ahead of himself. Last installment I promised to recount a few stories concerning some of the characters at SA, so let's get to that. And remind me not to get out of here with telling you abut the big change in lifestyle heading my way. (But if you just can't wait, there's a clue if you follow this link.)
'Beatdown Town'
Around a month ago a fellow client and kitchen co-worker named Truck (not his real name) scored a job at Crater Lake national park in Oregon. It sounded like a great deal: Nice location, a managerial position in their lodge kitchen, and a chance to save up some money.
So a week before he's due to leave, Truck gets into a seemingly harmless argument with a guy in the SA kitchen. I witnessed the exchange between Truck (a 5'9, stocky black guy) and the other man (a younger white guy approximately the same height but far slighter of build). They got nose to nose with low, intense voices, neither of them willing to back down. At one point they actually went outside but onlookers broke up a potential fight in front of the cafe entrance.
Upon re-entering the cafe, they exchanged parting shots with the younger guy exiting. Truck was still visibly upset when the security people showed up to take statements (your humble narrator kept his mouth shut) although he tried to laugh the matter off. Apparently the younger guy wasn't supposed to be in the cafe in the first place. Taking statements is par for most arguments of this kind. Security people mainly go through the motions on this sort of thing because guys woof at each other all the time in SA and little ever comes of it.
I wasn't a witness to the next part of the story, so I can only tell you what was related to me by my roommate. (FYI accounts of the following differ markedly) According to my roommate
Hank, he was walking a few blocks from the SA campus near the St.Vincent/Catholic Charities complex. Truck suddenly ran up to him and said, “Hold this, man!” He gave Hank his cell phone, wallet and other small items. When Hank asked what was going on, Truck simply ran across the street.
The younger guy from the cafe argument was there. Hank shouted for Truck to come back, but he confronted the younger guy on the sidewalk. Shouting turned into shoving, and wild punches were thrown. Truck dove at the younger guy's legs, hoisted him by the knees and body-slammed him to the cement. Truck then used his knees to pin the guy's arms and sat on his chest. Truck proceeded to deliberately punch the guy repeatedly, connecting with solid, deliberate shots to the face. Supposedly, you could hear wet 'popping' noises as Truck's fists hammered into the guy's face.
All the while, many homeless people sat and either ignored the event or watched with detached interest. No doubt they see this sort of thing frequently. Hank ran over and managed to pull Truck away, returning his stuff and telling him to get lost as the sound of police sirens drew nearer. Truck seemed to be in a daze, mumbling, “Thanks, man, sorry. I had to do it, man ...” He walked off and Hank took a moment to look at the damage done.
The younger guy was barely conscious. His face was beaten to the consistency of raw meat. We would later learn that he suffered a shattered jaw, a fractured eye socket and cheek bone, and several other injuries severe enough to put him in intensive care. (For the record, he did survive.) But before Hank could get away, he was detained by St.Vincent security officers and eventually questioned by police.
Truck was ID'd by the guy and arrested later that night; I saw him led in handcuffs to the squad car. Hard to believe this was my co-worker and fellow student/client who was always so easy to get along with. He did have a temper, but I never thought him capable of such an action.
He would end up spending 24 days in jail (denied bond) because the guy didn't press charges and decided to move to Oregon. Most agreed that Truck dodged a bullet on that one; he could still be sitting in jail awaiting trial. His penance? Apparently no more than attending an 8-hour anger management class and he's paid his debt to society.
Truck did lose his national park gig but SA allowed him to return to the kitchen. He's presently searching again for work.
When I saw him he told me his version of the story: He was walking along when the younger guy and three friends tried to jump him. Truck “knocked the f**kin' shit out that asshole” (his words) and the other three fled. “But all them bitches know they best respect my ass. You feel me?”
Okay. Obviously, that conflicts with the version told to me by my roommate. Hank also had to tell his story to Vegas Metro detectives; he said it was like an episode of “Law & Order” (insert favorite franchise here) where he was taken to a small room and his statement was recorded. Hank was also summoned to attend Truck's court date although he never had to take the stand.
Many clients on the SA campus actually sided with Truck, supporting his actions regardless of which version of the story they believed. Some clients tried to make it a racial issue and another case of injustice for the black man. All I can say is that both parties were at fault (imo). There was no reason for the argument(s) to reach the level it did. As is often the case, the cause was something small. Here, the events stemmed from Truck telling the guy to take only one sausage for breakfast. The guy then threw a sausage link at Truck and it was on. All that grief over a sausage. Somewhere in porcine heaven, a piggie must be squealing with satisfaction.
Truck is apparently none the worse for wear. In fact he seems to be enjoying something of a celebrity status since returning from jail, telling his tale of woe to friends who listen raptly. I worked with him earlier today serving the homeless breakfast and he's pretty much the same as before: Pushy, somewhat bossy at times, occasionally annoying. As usual, I pretend not to hear him and stay focused on what I'm doing. Truck is one of those guys I like overall, just not as a co-worker. Whatever. I'll keep the peace for two more weeks and resist any urge to throw sausage links at the guy.
Now, about that new j-o-b ... Ah, but it seems I've taken too long telling you about Truck. Guess I'll have to wait til the next installment. No, let's get it out of the way before you burst from frustration. Your humble narrator has scored a gig at a small resort located in the southwestern US. Ever hear of the Grand Canyon? Yup, that's how I roll. Go big or go home is what I say.
Anyway, I'll be working in one of the lodges or restaurants there basically as a food server. Fine with me because it doesn't involve cooking and it's a tipped position. Best, it fulfills my obligation to SA's culinary program so they won't sic the debt collectors from hell upon me. And I must admit the prospect of some new scenery appeals to me. So we'll see what develops. But for all intents and purposes the GC gig is a done deal.
Next time: Eh. We'll figure something out. For now, that's a wrap!
Showing posts with label salvation army las vegas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label salvation army las vegas. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Friday, March 2, 2012
HINJFCA XX3: The Awesome Aftermath
I won't keep you in suspense. For my culinary cooking final grade I scored an 86 overall, or a 'B'. I was surprised to say the least; I was expecting something in the C or D range. Seeing that B actually made me feel a trifle guilty and relieved at the same time. My relief is obvious; I'm now assured of gaining the college credit for which I primarily took the course. But my guilt? That might need a bit of explanation.
See, I skated by with a minimum of effort. Really, I don't enjoy the process of cooking, so it's kind of a hassle every time I enter the kitchen lab. To be honest I simply didn't hand in or complete certain assignments. And to be honest, I didn't do all that great on the written final (if the Chef hadn't allowed us 20 minutes of open book reference, I would have been totally cooked). But the reason I feel guilty is because had I put forth some more effort, I might have gotten a B+, maybe even an A/A-. The difference between an A and B can be worth thousands of dollars if/when you apply for a grant.
This is the way I've always been, though, at least when it comes to school. You know the old cliche about a student 'not applying himself'? That's me. I've always done just enough to get passing grades, at least when it came to subjects I didn't like. And as you know by now I little affinity or aptitude for the culinary arts.
So it did come as good news when my caseworker addressed my concerns on this matter: Namely, how am I expected to get a job in a restaurant when I really suck at cooking? That's one of the catches about this Salvation Army culinary program. Upon graduation you're expected to be a cook of some sort (which makes sense since other peoples money has been invested in you to do just that). However, I was told -- off the record, of course -- that the main requirement can be tweaked to read thusly: The graduating student must obtain a job in a food and beverage establishment. I like that interpretation a tad better, don't you?
Other student in my class did well enough, considering their skill level and aptitude (or lack thereof). My roommate (who was convinced he would fail and that life as he knew it was over) scored a C. He was visibly relieved and remarked, "Those f**king assholes, I think I deserved a C+!" Can't satisfy some folks, I guess. Other students ranged from the B+ to C range. I don't think anyone got lower than a C-. If so, they didn't admit it (I don't blame them).
Only two students got A's: My teammate Rain Man and a girl I'll refer to as Ms Moodswing (MM) due to the emotional highs and lows incurred by her numerous medications. She's the attractive girl who once told us all about her druggie days that ranged all over Sin City. I was surprised to learn my other teammate, Pitbull, scored a B+; I expected him and RM to come in 1-2 in grading. I think PB might have had some points for professionalism knocked off because he got into loud arguments with a couple of other classmates. Otherwise he seems like one of the more adept student in the class.
(Sidebar about PB: Some of his behavior is likely due to strong medication for depression and anxiety among other ailments. He takes 1000mg of some potent pill; I don't know what it does but he said, "Man, I've got so much s**t going on I need something to mellow me out." Sounds like a dosage fit for a depressed elephant. You may also recall that PB has a bit of a racist streak (his arguments were with black classmates). Here's something to consider: Recently I saw him drive to the SA campus with his mother in the shotgun seat and a guy riding in the back. I know his parents are divorced, so the guy in the back was mom's boyfriend (this was later corroborated for me by an independent source). When they got out of the car, he hugged his mother and stiffly shook hands with the boyfriend -- a black man. Connect the dots.)
This new phase of the culinary course is conducted by a short, heavyset Filipino guy we'll call Chef Y. He seems pleasant enough and explained to us that he has 10+ years experience as a professional chef before he became a teacher at CSN. Interestingly, he was a chemical engineer before turning to cooking, his true choice of career; this seems to be a fairly commonplace story among the cooks and chefs that I've met thus far.
The focus in Chef Y's class is primarily on preparation of cold dishes, which I actually find somewhat interesting. We're also working on things like sandwiches (the little artsy-fartsy kind that look like sculpture) and breakfast foods. For instance, your humble narrator made his first ever poached eggs the other night; I never even knew what they looked like before. Eggs have been a key point thus far, but I've never been able to eat them unless they're scrambled. I've never gone for whole yolks in my eggs because they look like great, yellow eyes staring back at me. Go figure.
We had a meeting for culinary students recently concerning our final exam. It's actually going to be a grand finale dinner of sorts that we prepare for a selected guest list. The dinner occurs on our final day as students (April 4). It'll be a long day, beginning at 5-9am in the SA kitchens, then 10-?pm at the CSN campus where the repast will be completed. After that, it's everyone for themself in terms of the ensuing job search. A caseworker kept noting that this is the last time "you'll ever work as a team."
That didn't exactly cause anyone to shed tears. In fact, this same caseworker told me (off the record, of course) that my class was the worst they'd seen in terms of cooperating with each other. It was also noted that some students like RM have already begun their job searches. RM in fact seems confident he's already got a gig lined up at a local restaurant and plans to move out the day following graduation.
Well, he has a lot of years in the culinary field. I expect my job search will take longer, but I am starting to scout around potential places for employment and have begun to fill out applications online. I was talking with a fellow student about our post-graduation plans, and what positions(s) we might be interested in. He told me he thought I would make a good manager. Not to brag, but a couple of other people have told me that as well. I obviously take it as a compliment. But when I mention that I have no experience in this field and am not particularly adept at cooking they often say something along these lines:
Any establishment you go to will likely train you from the ground up because they want you to learn their system. Even grads from noteworthy culinary institutions like Cordon Bleu don't start off as chefs. Most likely they'll start off washing dishes because the management wants to see who is dependable and who is willing to do the work. Only after they're convinced of your solid work ethic (or lack thereof) will they start training you for a certain position.
Another bit of philosophy I've been hearing time and again from those with management experience: The best managers aren't always the ones with the most technical know-how. The best managers are the ones who make their employees want to work for them. I've seen this play out even in the SA/CSN culinary course. My teammates RM and PB, as noted, are among the most proficient students in the program. But I've also come to realize that, on a personal level, they are not particularly well thought of as individuals.
I know this because I tried to switch teams with some other people in my class. While they all respected the skills of RM and PB, no one was willing to switch positions with me. Basically, it boiled down to the fact that no one wanted to work with RM or PB. Now view that in managerial terms -- do my teammates evince the quality of making people want to work for them? From what I've seen, RM is so convinced of his skills that be can hardly brook any disagreement, even to the point of contesting the chefs opinion when they point out a mistake he made. He does tend to be thin-skinned and impatient. PB likely comes off too abrasive for people to warm up to.
And then there's your humble narrator, who seems to get along with everyone. Am I really such a great guy? Not necessarily. I'm just to lazy to get agitated and argumentative with anyone; personally, I find such aggravation a waste of my valuable energy. And besides, I'm not looking to get punched out. Anyway, maybe I'll raise my sights and expectations a bit higher. Who knows, maybe I can 'charm' myself into a decent position (one that hopefully does not involve grabbing my ankles).
'You Made God Angry'
The other night I was talking with a fellow student in the SA client dining room when a strange-looking fellow ambled in. He appeared to be in his mid-late 60s, was dressed in tattered clothes was bald headed with a bushy gray beard, and at over 6 feet tall appeared to weigh about 135lbs. He looked like a homeless scarecrow. As he walked to the microwave to heat up a can of soup I was about to make a sarcastic comment to my classmate when his face lit up and he jumped out of his seat, ran to the strange guy and said, "Hi, Clay!"
Turns out my classmate knew this guy from earlier encounters on the street. As I discovered, Clay is something of a homeless celebrity, having been featured in local newspaper write-ups, and on local TV coverage of the homeless problem. Some of this media attention led to his getting an apartment and all kinds of donated food, clothes, and apparently lots of money. I don't know why he's at SA right now, but he said something about accepting these donations that stuck with me throughout the night. I'll pass it along to you.
Clay said that in his 15+ years on the streets, he once lived in a broken down van near a church in Bakersfield. The minister and his wife would occasionally bring him food and vital supplies. They passed on his story to a local business owner who arranged for Clay to get a job, and apartment, and the chance to start over. But Clay turned it down. He said he just didn't want to give up his freedom (on the streets). he later saw it was a selfish thing to do.
Later, the minister's wife stopped by the van and told him he'd have to leave. They thought he was ready to leave the streets, but apparently they were wrong. Clay had never seen the minister's wife so angry. When he asked why she was so harsh, she explained. "You made God angry. Someone tried to give you a blessing. When you refuse someone's blessing, God won't bless them." By refusing someone's blessing (gift, donati on, etc), you rob them of the chance to be blessed by God. I had honestly never thought of that.
Clay said that every since he has always graciously accepted any gift (help, assistane etc.) offered to him. In that way he is blessed and so is the person offering the gift.
Makes me wonder how many gifts/blessings I have turned down over my lifetime. How many times have I refused offers of help or assistance because of pride or a willingness to admit my weaknesses? And how many people were robbed of their own blessing due to my refusal? Guess you could say that when you count your blessings, you should count the blessings of others as well.
That's a wrap!
See, I skated by with a minimum of effort. Really, I don't enjoy the process of cooking, so it's kind of a hassle every time I enter the kitchen lab. To be honest I simply didn't hand in or complete certain assignments. And to be honest, I didn't do all that great on the written final (if the Chef hadn't allowed us 20 minutes of open book reference, I would have been totally cooked). But the reason I feel guilty is because had I put forth some more effort, I might have gotten a B+, maybe even an A/A-. The difference between an A and B can be worth thousands of dollars if/when you apply for a grant.
This is the way I've always been, though, at least when it comes to school. You know the old cliche about a student 'not applying himself'? That's me. I've always done just enough to get passing grades, at least when it came to subjects I didn't like. And as you know by now I little affinity or aptitude for the culinary arts.
So it did come as good news when my caseworker addressed my concerns on this matter: Namely, how am I expected to get a job in a restaurant when I really suck at cooking? That's one of the catches about this Salvation Army culinary program. Upon graduation you're expected to be a cook of some sort (which makes sense since other peoples money has been invested in you to do just that). However, I was told -- off the record, of course -- that the main requirement can be tweaked to read thusly: The graduating student must obtain a job in a food and beverage establishment. I like that interpretation a tad better, don't you?
Other student in my class did well enough, considering their skill level and aptitude (or lack thereof). My roommate (who was convinced he would fail and that life as he knew it was over) scored a C. He was visibly relieved and remarked, "Those f**king assholes, I think I deserved a C+!" Can't satisfy some folks, I guess. Other students ranged from the B+ to C range. I don't think anyone got lower than a C-. If so, they didn't admit it (I don't blame them).
Only two students got A's: My teammate Rain Man and a girl I'll refer to as Ms Moodswing (MM) due to the emotional highs and lows incurred by her numerous medications. She's the attractive girl who once told us all about her druggie days that ranged all over Sin City. I was surprised to learn my other teammate, Pitbull, scored a B+; I expected him and RM to come in 1-2 in grading. I think PB might have had some points for professionalism knocked off because he got into loud arguments with a couple of other classmates. Otherwise he seems like one of the more adept student in the class.
(Sidebar about PB: Some of his behavior is likely due to strong medication for depression and anxiety among other ailments. He takes 1000mg of some potent pill; I don't know what it does but he said, "Man, I've got so much s**t going on I need something to mellow me out." Sounds like a dosage fit for a depressed elephant. You may also recall that PB has a bit of a racist streak (his arguments were with black classmates). Here's something to consider: Recently I saw him drive to the SA campus with his mother in the shotgun seat and a guy riding in the back. I know his parents are divorced, so the guy in the back was mom's boyfriend (this was later corroborated for me by an independent source). When they got out of the car, he hugged his mother and stiffly shook hands with the boyfriend -- a black man. Connect the dots.)
This new phase of the culinary course is conducted by a short, heavyset Filipino guy we'll call Chef Y. He seems pleasant enough and explained to us that he has 10+ years experience as a professional chef before he became a teacher at CSN. Interestingly, he was a chemical engineer before turning to cooking, his true choice of career; this seems to be a fairly commonplace story among the cooks and chefs that I've met thus far.
The focus in Chef Y's class is primarily on preparation of cold dishes, which I actually find somewhat interesting. We're also working on things like sandwiches (the little artsy-fartsy kind that look like sculpture) and breakfast foods. For instance, your humble narrator made his first ever poached eggs the other night; I never even knew what they looked like before. Eggs have been a key point thus far, but I've never been able to eat them unless they're scrambled. I've never gone for whole yolks in my eggs because they look like great, yellow eyes staring back at me. Go figure.
We had a meeting for culinary students recently concerning our final exam. It's actually going to be a grand finale dinner of sorts that we prepare for a selected guest list. The dinner occurs on our final day as students (April 4). It'll be a long day, beginning at 5-9am in the SA kitchens, then 10-?pm at the CSN campus where the repast will be completed. After that, it's everyone for themself in terms of the ensuing job search. A caseworker kept noting that this is the last time "you'll ever work as a team."
That didn't exactly cause anyone to shed tears. In fact, this same caseworker told me (off the record, of course) that my class was the worst they'd seen in terms of cooperating with each other. It was also noted that some students like RM have already begun their job searches. RM in fact seems confident he's already got a gig lined up at a local restaurant and plans to move out the day following graduation.
Well, he has a lot of years in the culinary field. I expect my job search will take longer, but I am starting to scout around potential places for employment and have begun to fill out applications online. I was talking with a fellow student about our post-graduation plans, and what positions(s) we might be interested in. He told me he thought I would make a good manager. Not to brag, but a couple of other people have told me that as well. I obviously take it as a compliment. But when I mention that I have no experience in this field and am not particularly adept at cooking they often say something along these lines:
Any establishment you go to will likely train you from the ground up because they want you to learn their system. Even grads from noteworthy culinary institutions like Cordon Bleu don't start off as chefs. Most likely they'll start off washing dishes because the management wants to see who is dependable and who is willing to do the work. Only after they're convinced of your solid work ethic (or lack thereof) will they start training you for a certain position.
Another bit of philosophy I've been hearing time and again from those with management experience: The best managers aren't always the ones with the most technical know-how. The best managers are the ones who make their employees want to work for them. I've seen this play out even in the SA/CSN culinary course. My teammates RM and PB, as noted, are among the most proficient students in the program. But I've also come to realize that, on a personal level, they are not particularly well thought of as individuals.
I know this because I tried to switch teams with some other people in my class. While they all respected the skills of RM and PB, no one was willing to switch positions with me. Basically, it boiled down to the fact that no one wanted to work with RM or PB. Now view that in managerial terms -- do my teammates evince the quality of making people want to work for them? From what I've seen, RM is so convinced of his skills that be can hardly brook any disagreement, even to the point of contesting the chefs opinion when they point out a mistake he made. He does tend to be thin-skinned and impatient. PB likely comes off too abrasive for people to warm up to.
And then there's your humble narrator, who seems to get along with everyone. Am I really such a great guy? Not necessarily. I'm just to lazy to get agitated and argumentative with anyone; personally, I find such aggravation a waste of my valuable energy. And besides, I'm not looking to get punched out. Anyway, maybe I'll raise my sights and expectations a bit higher. Who knows, maybe I can 'charm' myself into a decent position (one that hopefully does not involve grabbing my ankles).
'You Made God Angry'
The other night I was talking with a fellow student in the SA client dining room when a strange-looking fellow ambled in. He appeared to be in his mid-late 60s, was dressed in tattered clothes was bald headed with a bushy gray beard, and at over 6 feet tall appeared to weigh about 135lbs. He looked like a homeless scarecrow. As he walked to the microwave to heat up a can of soup I was about to make a sarcastic comment to my classmate when his face lit up and he jumped out of his seat, ran to the strange guy and said, "Hi, Clay!"
Turns out my classmate knew this guy from earlier encounters on the street. As I discovered, Clay is something of a homeless celebrity, having been featured in local newspaper write-ups, and on local TV coverage of the homeless problem. Some of this media attention led to his getting an apartment and all kinds of donated food, clothes, and apparently lots of money. I don't know why he's at SA right now, but he said something about accepting these donations that stuck with me throughout the night. I'll pass it along to you.
Clay said that in his 15+ years on the streets, he once lived in a broken down van near a church in Bakersfield. The minister and his wife would occasionally bring him food and vital supplies. They passed on his story to a local business owner who arranged for Clay to get a job, and apartment, and the chance to start over. But Clay turned it down. He said he just didn't want to give up his freedom (on the streets). he later saw it was a selfish thing to do.
Later, the minister's wife stopped by the van and told him he'd have to leave. They thought he was ready to leave the streets, but apparently they were wrong. Clay had never seen the minister's wife so angry. When he asked why she was so harsh, she explained. "You made God angry. Someone tried to give you a blessing. When you refuse someone's blessing, God won't bless them." By refusing someone's blessing (gift, donati on, etc), you rob them of the chance to be blessed by God. I had honestly never thought of that.
Clay said that every since he has always graciously accepted any gift (help, assistane etc.) offered to him. In that way he is blessed and so is the person offering the gift.
Makes me wonder how many gifts/blessings I have turned down over my lifetime. How many times have I refused offers of help or assistance because of pride or a willingness to admit my weaknesses? And how many people were robbed of their own blessing due to my refusal? Guess you could say that when you count your blessings, you should count the blessings of others as well.
That's a wrap!
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