It's been three weeks since my last post. Miss me?
It was about that time when one of our bus boys, Diego, got into a fight one night after work and got the crap kicked out of him. He's okay now. But it meant for almost two weeks that we were short a major part of the team so all the waiters had to pick up an extra shift busing tables. This meant working seven shifts in six days.
I've haven't had two days off in over a month. And so, on my day off I head to the beach and leave the laptop behind.
At the same time one of the servers, Ivette, had a few too many mojitos during a shift and was suspended for a week. The rest of us had to pick up the slack, meaning more double shifts for everyone. An eight-hour dinner rush is rigorous enough, tack on another four or six hours to that and it makes for one helluva long day.
Tack on another few hours of drinking afterward (to unwind, of course) and then do it all over again the next day. Staying sober in this town in not an easy thing to do.
And the thing is, it's pretty much been like that since I started working at Joe's. I had only been there a couple weeks when Tanque (Tank) the main bartender just upped and vanished. He's been at the restaurant since day one and works double shifts six days a week. Very important cog in the wheel.
One day, he didn't show up for work. Wouldn't answer his phone and no one (that I know of) knew where he was. The rumour is that he was in some kind of trouble and escaped to Baja to hide out. In a cave on the beach, no doubt. Ari, who's both a server and bartender had to pick up all of Tanque's shifts, leaving us short a waiter.
We only use fresh lime juice in all of our margaritas and mojitos and the bartender goes through hundreds of limes a day. Have you ever seen what prolonged exposure to citric acid can do to your hands? It ain't pretty. Ari was not only exhausted from working no-stop but her hands were being ravaged as well.
Then, 10 days later, Tanque was back. I never got the full story (or any part of it, actually) and frankly it's better not to know. In Mexico, too much information can be a very bad thing.
But somehow it all ends up working out. We all just dig in and keep the wheels turning at Joe Jacks, pumping out close to 400 meals a night. In a place that only seats about 80 people, its a fast-paced and sometimes grueling environment. And yet it's fun somehow. The insanity of it all and the constant pressure, mixed with a crazy cast of characters means there's never a dull moment.
And I'll take drama over the mundane any day. I also know that my time here is brief and in a little over a month I'll be leaving it behind. There's comfort in that. Believe me.
