So after moving out of my house and doing pretty good at the window tinting place I wanted a few more bucks in my wallet. i searched the want ads and saw Pappa Johns Pizza was hiring staff. I was the 3rd person hired before the store even opened. i helped set the place up and delivered the first day.

This will go down as one of my best jobs ever. imagine doing an eight hour shift but only being at work for maybe 45 minutes of that time. All the rest is in your car with your six CD changer and cruising campus.

The harder you work the more you make. It is all about knowing the streets, places, people, and being fast and ambitious. Group those pies. If there are deliveries to Harper, Schram, and Smith grab them all. Call the students and tell them you will be there in 5 minutes. Figure 10 pies, a buck each tip in 15 minutes and you bank. Sure you might have to take one to Surfside apts, but you drop another off on the way. Bust your ass back and keep on going.

So delivering to frats and sororities is a huge pain. Call them and let them know you will be there in 5 minutes, knock, knock, call, wait, wait, finally some person lets you in and goes and gets Buffy or Butch. Avoid frats at all costs. Easy $80 to $150 a night + wage and mileage, it ruled.

The days that ruled were snow. I had a 4X4 and could go anywhere fast. Peeps tip extra on crappy days. Oh and there is always the possible special delivery. Call it in and you get 30 minutes. Never got a special delivery though. If you need a young man to fulfill your sexual dreams call and order a pizza, please

Oh and the parties, man those were fun. If you chose you could enjoy some refreshments and know where to go after work. Everybody loves the pizza guy. There were many funny deliveries. Porn on the tube, guys hiding the bong, nighties or dudes in skivvies. Dogs, drunks, and the guy who always tips $5. We would fight for those. Let me make one thing really really clear. The pizza guy knows your phone number and where you live. Do not be a dick or not tip. Believe me. On the screen when you order there will be notes. If you rule you will get a good pie and awesome delivery, if you have a negative note, well, lets just say TIP THE PIZZA GUY AND BE NICE ON THE PHONE. it is in your best interest.

Just got a call from the Sandy’s peeps and they would like me to bartend their Xmas party Sunday eve.

It should be a hoot.

I worked at Auto Tint for about 4 years. it was a pretty neat job. i had gotten my truck tinted, wrecked it 5 days later, brought in my new one and the owner thought my girlfriend was hot. he offered me a job.

Couple things about window tinting.
- the stuff from the auto parts store is complete crap. it is too thin, creases too easy, and will not last but a fortnight.
- Even though you think you are good, you will do a horrible job. It is way trickier that you would think.
- you will get what you pay for. Quality tint costs a fricking ton. you are looking at $200-400 wholsale for a 100 ft roll. The good stuff is thick, has good pressure sensitive adhesive, will not break down or turn purple in one year. Plus usually you will get a lifetime or pert long warranty, it is well worth it. Plus it will not look like a epileptic monkey put it on the car.
- It is an art. It takes a good amount of skill and mostly experience to put it on correctly.

This is where I found out that American cars are complete pieces of shit, at least interior wise. Stupid plastic fasteners, having to remove the rear seats just to get the back deck out, piece of shit rear window triangle lights that melt, crappy screws, C clips, etc…. In a honda you needed a 10mm and a 5/16 socket to get everything out, simple.

The trick to keeping the tint from peeling on windows that roll up and down was to make sure the film went under the weatherstripping. Sometimes you could just fold it down, on American cars you sometimes had to remove the door panel, what a nightmare.

Rear windows is what it all comes down to. The sleek curves and convexes are tough. Film is not stretchy at all. back in the day you had to cut strips along the defroster lines, now they heat shrink the film. It takes bunches of practice with a paint stripping gun. One little messup that creases the film can set you back an hour worth of work.

You must make sure the glass is clean, but not only the glass, the surrounding window gaskets, fluffy upholstery and such. So think about doing a 95 monte carlo that has seen nothing but dirt roads? We soaked the crap out of the insides of cars flushing the crap out with water.

So here is the dirty info. The tinter is gonna be all over your car, in the back seat, trunk, front seat, moving seats forward and such. We get to see every dirty little bit and what you are trying to hide. I wave been waist deep in dog hair, fast food wrappers, child seats, and all sorts of unmentionables. Found a bunch of incest porn in a truck, dildoes, joints, french fries, you get the picture. Clean your car out if you don’t want us to know you are a peterast or slob.

I helped a friend make dounuts at Daylight Donuts in Bethany for about a year. It is quite an interesting job. you smell like a donut even after scrubbing with turpentine for a few weeks. I worked in the evenings, it was min wage but a bunch of fun. Pure cash and all the donuts I could eat + soda.

So I guess i will fill you in on how fricking gross donuts are.

- The oil was actually shortening, it was solid and you had to carve off hunks and melt them into the fryer many times through the night. We would go through one huge ass block a day.

- the glaze is nothing more than water and powdered sugar. We used a basket like thing that had holes in the bottom. This was in a huge bin and the donuts would be pulled from the oil placed on the rack and covered in glaze.

- Bavarian cream, strawberry filling, and some other fruit type things came in buckets. The white cream was really really gross though. It is W-4 shortening and powdered sugar whipped to a froth. Yup sugar and fat whipped, that is why it tasted so good.

- Frostings were powdered sugar (seeing a trend here?) and mixings. You take the donut out of the oil, wait for it to cool a bit, plop it into the frosting, twist and decorate or put on the rack.

So you have two types of donut, yeast risen and cake. Cake is pretty simple, add water, mix, and use a dropper right into the oil. Raised yeast ones are a bunch of work. All donut flour came in big bags pre-mixed since it was a franchise. Water, mix and yeast. Let it rise, punch it down, let it rise again, then roll it out and start cutting. Put them in the proof box which makes them rise. gotta watch them closely, other wise they can go bad fast by getting to poofy.

- 1st dough. This would be the staple for all donut places, your standard glazed donut. What you figure 2 cents worth of product, almost pure profit. Then donut holes, twists, and knots. Take all the little bits of dough left over and knead it again and let it rise. it is now 2nd dough.

- 2nd dough. Since it has been manhandled and kneaded again it will be a bit tougher and not as poofy. This is where your more sturdy goodies come from. Bismarks, longjohns, and variations of that theme. They are the filled ones. Filling was not too bad. You have a container with a hand lever and a spike with a hole. Stab, squirt, and put on the cooling rack. filled donut holes are awesome. Take leftover bits, knead…… 3rd dough.

- 3rd dough. This is tough stuff, it is where cinnamon rolls come from. Take bits, knead….

- 4th dough. Only one thing is made from 4th dough, apple fritters. Fritters are the loneliest donut, they are made up of all their friends. They are so dense they almost sink in the oil.

7 fricking cavaties during that year of making donuts, and I still smell like a donut.

Dam those stupid uniforms. being a server is almost an art. You gotta be thinking in the proper mindset and not get distracted by the horrific side boob of a large woman at table C7. Multitasking is the name of the game. Got trained by a cocky bastard, took about 10 minutes. The PLU#’s are on the ticket, punch it into the puter, pretend to give a crap and hope you are either busy or get off early.

Your section was determined by the time you came in. “Oh please PLEASE dont put me in the smoking section. Seriously smokers are a whole different breed when it comes to working in a fricking Village Inn. Fricking scroads. Sit there and drink 4 gallons of coffee whick sucking down a pack of the cheapest smokes they sell. Total bill $0.85, no tip (yeah not even the 15 fricking cents change), and my table was occupied for 3 hours. Plus scroads like to be with their own kind, that means a whole fricking section of NTMF’s (Non Tipping Mother Forkers).

Lucky for me I worked the night shift mostly. There was a country bar down the street, when it was 1 AM they would come in in droves. i fricking worked it like a pro. Getting people coffe cups so they could pour their beer in them that they snuck in, little extra things to get a good tip.

Sat and Sun mornings were awesome. You could easily make $100 or pert near it on one good morning shift. Remember I was young, and hungover. This money was fricking awesome. The paychecks were horrible though. See you make $2.13 an hour currently. Don’t even remember what it was back then, then you pay taxes on your tips, min is 8% so you figure out 8.01% and claim that. So you get tiny checks. I used to just get the whole paycheck in quarters, serious. There were times where I would not even get anything checkwise. $0.00 man that sucked.

Being a host fricking sucked. Walking people to their table because they dont know what C3 means and pretending to care sucks. Oh I took their money as well. Oh cept for the servers who tip you so you will seat them more often. It is a very powerful position in that respect.

So drug use: You ever find yourself with some drugs you need to get rid of, go to a village inn and the employees will buy all of them. Bottles stashed in back, pipes by the dumpster, lines on the toilet, and the beer run at midnight before the drunks come in for pancakes. It never seemed to end. Your busser, host, servertron, dishwasher, and specially the cooks were all on something. Remember that when you order your #71 VIB with wheat toast.

So I am like 16 during this time. I am doing an outside trash pickup and find a pipe. I show it to another busser and my boss sees me hiding something. I get taken into the office and questioned, he takes it from me and sends me on my way. Did not get into trouble, but it scares me good. About a month later my boss asks me to go out back with him. He sparks up a bowl of nummy stuff and asks me if I can stay late so he can go to the football game. It was the pipe I found outside.

Every night we would head over to Johnny’s house, or Lanny’s trailer, or Jeff’s house and get fucked up. I learned so much from those late night parties that went into the morning hours. Watching the one eyed diabetic cook chug the bong water on a dare was something I will never forget. Gluing a beer can on the dorky server’s face after he passed out was cool too.
It is a good thing I eventually got out of there. I am glad I did not turn into a lifer, the people who will never move up in life, just keep getting loaded and go back to the min wage job.

So there is a reason cooks are in the back of the house. Mostly they are really sweaty cuz of the heat, but they are usually tattooed, pierced, unclean, and generally high on drugs. My friend Chris was known as the walking pancake. he kept his work clothes in his car and never washed them, it was horrible. Grill grease has a very pungent smell after it has been on clothes in your car for three weeks. So much food covers the floor, it makes the floor slimy and has to be hosed down, scrubbed, and squeegeed every night. There is no 3 second rule. It is only a concern if someone sees it, serious. you think a cook gives a crap if little Jimmy’s sausage hit the floor?

In the food service industry you learn to despise people who come into eat and make you work. Believe me your host, busser, waiter, and cook only pretend to like you. They will talk shit about the second you are out of hearing distance. And if you happen to have some severely nice cleavage out look into the kitchen for some cook hats popping out. People get names. marlboro man, scruffy, bacon burger man, loose Linda, ketchup guy, standing man, lactose man, brittish fuck, boy who loves his hair too much, and many more colorful names. Golden rule: never mess with or piss off the people who serve you your food. If you are a good tipper, you will be rewarded with excellent service, food, and extra stuff. We all fought for garbanzo burger guy, he tipped $5 every time. That extra dollar means a bunch to someone making $2.13 an hour.

*beerorkid does not endorse drug use, nor has ever used drugs*

This was my first real job. At 14 years old I got in as a busser from a friend Jeff. They hired me on the spot and I was trained on a busy sat morning. It is a pretty simple job, clean off tables and set them back up. But there is an art to it, and a way to make extra $. So you have your buss cart, two lower shelves, and the top that all have buss tubs on them, and a silverware tray. There was one way to fit all the different plates on the top tub so they would all fit. Middle for glasses, and the bottom tub for trash.

It all came down to speed, faster you did your job the better you looked to the boss man, and the sooner you could take a smoke break or goof off. I was fast, I mean the fastest. I could do a table in under a minute. So the trick was to work the servers, get them to tip you. It all started from a guy named Davin, he would tip me to clean his tables first. Funny thing was he was a dick about how he gave me the tips. jam it in some pancakes, put change in an ashtray, in syrup bottles, but I still made extra $. Eventually turned all the servers on each other and I benefited. Those were the days.

So you know when you get to a table that has just been wiped off and it is still wet, it is pure bacteria. Sure times have changed a bit, the health department makes you use specific levels of sanitizer and it gets used when the inspector comes in, but all other times it is gross. You think I am gonna go re wet my rag in the sanitizer or spill some water on it from someones glass when I can clean Marcy’s table and get a tip from her? Seriously, they are gross.

Oh and this was my first experience with dish cleanification engineers (dishwashers). There is a reason it is the absolutely lowest job on the totem pole. You do not have to be sane to wash dishes. In fact let me introduce you to the first two I met.

Chicken Fucker- yup that is right, chicken fucker. Guess how he got that name? Dude was batshit crazy old guy who smelled horrible. He would throw fits, and cuss, and never smiled. If you called him chicken fucker he would freak out. I befriended him, as I always do with crazy people, and he actually admitted to me he would fuck chickens on the farm. It took me about 15 years to watch something the internets that made me know it was possible.

Mark - he was mentally challenged and on medication. Big guy, and pretty gullible. The cooks (will talk about them in the next section) were mean to him. Once gave him grill oil and told him it was OJ. They also had a plate of speed pills (more on drug use later) which they told him were candy. He did not like the candy. He would be covered from head to toe in water, he would even pee himself. To stop him from peeing himself they made him wear garbage bags to keep dry. Seroiusly dude, he was a hoot. His mom and dad came in all the time, pure WT iffin you know what I mean. His dad died and not a week later his mom was fucking a scroad (person who comes in and only drinks coffee wasting a table that could turn over and make the server more $). Mark stormed out and started beating on the guy, was funny. He later got fired for masturbating in the bathroom.

So I have had my share of jobs during my years, some have been normal and some pretty cool. I was asked about my food career and strange things involved in it over at lincolnite.com, and decided to make a post on it. It gonna be fricking huge and probably go in sections. I promise to make it interesting and let you in on the dirty little secrets of said jobs.

So back in the time of the Journal having an evening paper, I delivered to some apartments, 32 of them. Pretty easy gig, took about 30 minutes. This was when you had to collect the money yourself, that sucked. But it kept me in candy and video games.

I used my bike for a while, then I started skateboarding. i would skate down the halls, was fun. Best part was how I would fold the papers. i would fold them as small as I could, it must of been horrible for the sucka’s who had me deliver to them. MWAHAHAHAHAHHhh.

So I did the football games a few times as well. They give you 25 or so papers and you stand near the stadium and try to sell them. “hey you in the red, buy a paper”. The trick was to go to a paper machine, spend 35 cents, grab all the papers and when you turn them in you get to keep the extra money. Tricky mwahahahahahaha…….

Some guy gifted me a ticket one sat morning, prob thought he was making my dreams come true. “Geeee tanks mistur” I sold it for face value a few minutes later, mwaahahhahaha…..