Hot!

Boy oh boy! I am SOOOO glad that I only have two more shifts at the resort. Last night cinched the deal.
When I got to work at 3:00, I found the usual pile of dirty dishes and pots left over from the day shift. I set to work on those. By 5:30, I had washed all of those items and I was ready for the big Valentines Day rush. The restaurant had called in two of my fellow kitchen helpers to work on their day off, so I wasn't alone. Jorje, was helping the chefs prepare food. Enrique went to wash dishes in another kitchen. Ramon and I were teamed up in the main kitchen.
One of our "primary directives", when the fine dining restaurant is open, is to frequently collect and clean the saute' pans that the chefs use. To do that, we must leave our work station, go to that kitchen, collect the dirty pans, carry them back to our work station, wash them and return them to the piles of clean pans. I quickly learned - the hard way - that some of the saute' pans are HOT! The first time I went to collect dirty pans, I grabbed a stack of them by their handles. YIKES! The handles were hot hot hot! One of the chefs turned to me and said, "Those are hot!" (That's how their training program works) I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around the handles, picked up the pans and left.
The tip of one of my fingers was stinging badly so I filled a cup with ice water and stuck my hand in it. Fortunately, Ramon was washing while I was collecting/putting away at that time. Otherwise, I don't know how I would have been able to cool my burned finger. As it was, I kept my fingers on ice while a rack of dishes went through the washer. Then I put a towel over my hand while I emptied the hot dishes. Then it was back in the ice water until the next rack came through or until I had to go collect more saute pans.
During one of my trips to collect pans, I asked one of the chefs if she ever burns herself on the saute' pans. She showed me her arms. There were several 1-inch long burn marks on each. She said, "you get used to it."
By about 9:45, the rush of activity started to slow. Ramon and I were staying ahead of the incoming tide. I soaked my fingers and Ramon left the kitchen to take a break. I interrupted my finger-soaking every few minutes just long enough to load racks of dirty dishes and run them through.
For some reason, Ramon didn't come back. But that was okay. By 10:15, the flow of plates, glasses, and silverware had slowed to a crawl so I was getting along well without Ramon.
Then, it happened.
With less than 45 minutes left on my shift, carts full of dirty pots, pans, bowls, baking sheets, and cooking utensils that the chefs had been dirtying all night started rolling in. I started scrubbing and washing as fast as I could but I was no match for the burned on, baked on, dried on scum that clung to the bottoms and sides on many of the containers. At 10:50, with only 10 minutes left on my shift, there was still a big pile of dirty pots waiting to be washed. I looked around for help. Obviously, I was the only one there! Oh well. Screw it.
I rolled the carts of dirty pots over to a row of big stainless steel sinks on the other side of the room. I filled them with water and stacked them in the sinks. Then I went over to my work station, turned off the dish-washing machine, and went home.
I'm pretty sure that the resort "expected" me to stay until the job was done even though my posted schedule was 3:00-11:00. But since no management person asked me to stay and no one authorized me to approve my own overtime (as if they would have paid overtime wages). I had no qualms about leaving the dishes for the day shift.
I'm off today. Then I work two more shifts before the experience ends for good. As the short-timers used to say in Viet Nam: "I've got two more wake-ups and a bag drag." I can't wait!