Closing

It is interesting to be one of the closers on the nights I work. It is endlessly fascinating to me to see the store when all is quiet and humming, the produce covered for it's nightly rest, the cases stocked, endcaps squared, meat kitchen shiny and frigid, and then there is what we face. There is little shift changeover cleaning done. The AM crew comes in and sets up the kitchen and sort of wraps up their projects and wipes down their stations before going. Garbage, compost, recycling, overflowing linen bag, salt on the floor from the spilled oil suddenly are invisible; it's time to go home. Since there is the inevitable overlap it is clear they do not see what it all looks like at 9 pm. How long has that case of squash and carrots been sitting out? Where did it come from anyway and what was the intent in pulling it? Oh, look, here is lasagne (or something no longer identifiable) in the oven. Good thing we opened that on a whim... Pastry, of course, is wrapped and polished in their drive for perfection and willingness to actually measure everything.

It really does not take long to clear it all up. For me, it's the principle of the thing. Kitchen ownership? Big one for me. I have decided to own the walk-in and it's the first thing I tackle each day. Thanks, jefe, for showing me years ago that it is ok the throw things on the floor during this process. There is something soul satisfying to me about making order out of the chaos (and those of you who know me know about my affair with chaos). Next up is chosing one spot each night to give some love hoping that others will notice and take it up too. I am fully aware of the ending to this story however. Hopefully I can use it as leverage to have the KM show me how to drive the forklift.

We have a staff meeting tomorrow. Should be interesting.