Hurricane Isaac reveals mystery ship at Fort Morgan

Hurricane Isaac reveals mystery ship at Fort Morgan

Breakin' up not so hard to do.

Ronald and I call it quits

Too old for "Go, Grill Team"?

At the staff meeting this past friday I found out my designated position was to be on the Grill Team. it is a position that although I have never been a cook I did well enough after a days training to be assigned to. It is a frenetic paced position, working with experienced staff (Russian Andrew, Peruvian Adrian, and Caleb), some who have been there as long as 6 years. However, I wonder if although I can do it, can I keep it? Specifically, I'm exhausted after 6hrs, and some days I'm scheduled for 8hrs. I'm working part time, but my schedule is going to to be three days in a row, 4 off.

McDonalds offers one break during a shift, when I start at 7AM I get a 30 min. break at 9:30AM and thats it until I leave. No 10 or fifteen break every 2 1/2 hours to sit and have a Clif bar and recover. I have had to approach my managers and ask for a break at 2PM, they said ok, during which I'm required to clock out. I'm wondering if because I have the same build as the younger staff its assumed I can maintain the same pace. At 50+ I am very aware that I do not have the stamina I had 30 years ago. This past weekend after 3 days working in a row I exhibited mild flu-like symptoms, cough, sore throat, upset stomach and body ache. I called in sick on Sunday, feeling miserable and having no energy. Had it been a funeral home job I would have gone in, knowing that I could sit down and rest as needed. I'm back at work this Friday for three days in a row, will see how I do.

I got a new tattoo, (still working on sleeving my left arm) do those colors look familiar?,lol.

McDonalds is different in Japan

http://youtu.be/Hgw5lwehNK0

longest day yet

Worked from 7:15 AM to 4:30PM...oy, are my feet tired.

Was trained about McWaste today. That is the food products that are thrown away for various reasons. I had been directed to throw overcooked, old, dropped, broken, etc. food into a specific tub. I wondered what the follow up on that waste was and today I found out. Training consisted of a manager (who was not wearing gloves)and I (who was wearing gloves) inventorying and listing the contents of the container. I'm sure you can guess what my part consisted of (remember, I was wearing gloves). Yes, I would take out similiar looking food items, determine what they were and how many of them there were, and the manager, (very pregnant Krista) would list them on a piece of paper. Ugh. That really says it all.

I attended my first employee meeting today. The two managers, Candace the store manager and her assistant Justin did a good job holding the meeting, keeping control and not letting it turn into a bitch session. I spoke up once, when Candace was complaining about someone draining the nitrous off the whip cream canisters. I knew from my F&B Manager experience in the Nat'l Parks that the culprit typically is the most recent hire. I knew it wasn't me, (yes really, that stuff gives me a headache, lol) so it was probably Mike, the "I keyed my managers car when he fired me from Arbys" guy I met at orientation. When I commented it was probably the new guy I got punched on the shoulder, laughs, and a knowing nod from a shift manager. Mystery solved

Many of the staff attending were in their civilian clothes, as the mandatory meeting was held 15 minutes prior to the designated hour on the day of paycheck distribution. The fashion choices were revealing, specifically the international staff were dressed the hippest, tan, with a "I live at the beach" look. The Americans had poor fashion sense, ill fitting clothes on pale overweight bodies, and mixed their work clothes (nasty shoes) with their off work clothes. To me the immigrant staff treat McDonalds as a hip place to work, and the Americans should take a lesson from them, if only to raise their self-esteem.

I ride a motherf*cking bike too!

<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hgCqz3l33kU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Yea, I ride one...



I rise in the morning, and greet the day
pull out the bike and I’m on my way
The transportation shows I care
Every turn of the pedal - cleans the air

Greener than green, I’m saving the planet
just like my friends Daryl, Sean, Toby and Janet
no greenhouse gas, a tiny carbon footprint up your ass

I’m on a motherfucking bike

Sharing my aggression is what that I do
Every day I’m riding the ‘Tour de Fuck You’
Banging on hoods and kicking in fenders
a right-of-way-aholic on a permanent bender

Runnin red lights at the fat intersection
Cutout seat protects my erection
You like the bird, in my hand?
Take two from a motherfucking track stand on my bike

I’m on a motherfucking bike
I’m on a motherfucking bike

Skinny-ass pants, the ‘stache is fat
the canvas kicks, the ear-flap hat
Got no gears so you best not dis me
yeah bitch, it’s a motherfuckin fixie

Middle of the street is where you’re gonna find me
a shitload of traffic backed up behind me
Critical Mass is a Facebook “like”

I’m on a motherfucking bike
I’m on a motherfucking bike
credits

Mr. Scott

That's me. I started hearing that 10 years ago when working at a funeral home in New Mexico. It is said with respect, I'm treated well, but when my co-workers first start addressing me that way I wasn't sure how I felt about it. It made me feel old, and clearly marked me as from a different generation than the majority. Now I feel I understand it, there is such a age difference between myself and my associates they feel comfortable adding the "Mr." as opposed to the familiar "Scott". So, I now answer to "Mr. Scott". I better get used to it.

Speaking of hearing, I'm havin' a helluva time hearing clearly while working in the kitchen. Some timers I don' t hear at all, and others I cannot determine which oven/machine is emitting it. This has created some problems, once Russian Andrew walks up to me and says, "Do you hear something?" "No" I replied, "thats the problem!" another time I asked the manager Candace how to tell which fryer was beeping, she says, "Just turn off the one you hear", and I had to explain that I could not distinguish which of the four timers was going off. Oy vey.