an insanely large machine

So I work as a busser in The Cheesecake Factory in Waikiki. 21 million in annual sales, and in the last year, as tourism receipts and room occupancy rates have taken a serious hit here, our store has increased sales by 10%. There are 340 employees (plus the 18 of us that got hired when I did), 17 managers, 140 servers... I thought I had been working in restaurants for the last 5+ years, but I was totally wrong - I may have worked in businesses that sell food to make money - but not in a real restaurant. It's truly an insanely large machine.

There is a guy, Oscar, whose job it is to clean the back of house. He sweeps the line, he sweeps the prep kitchen, he mops, and then he does it all again. It takes him a little over an hour, and he does it all day, from 10 in the morning, until his relief comes in at 5 in the evening, when it all begins again. The dish room does not have stress mats in it... it is literally one giant floor drain with one inch by one inch plastic grates covering it, such that all the debris and liquid just goes into the floor. The dish machines and the sinks drain into it, it smells a little nasty, but it's effective. The last prep cooks leave at 2am and the first of the next day are in by 6. All of the managers have CIA style earpieces with microphones on their collars so that they can communicate with each other and the hosts, the expediter has a microphone that pumps into the speakers in the back of hose to give commands and sports scores to the prep cooks, dishwashers, and Oscar. "White rice to sautee." "Salad side bus-cart pickup." "Oscar to the pasta side, broom and wet mop." "Go Phillies!"

I bus. We turn tables in less than two minutes from when they break, or we get our knees broken. We are so busy (a 1 hr.+ wait every night) that the only limit to the amount of money we (the restaurant) can make is how quickly we can reset a table. It's a very important job in the grand scheme of things. We are table setting mercenaries. There is no such thing as a break - not if you want to make money... and we all do.

Money is what makes the machine run. 340 people who have come together to make awesome food, offer exceptional service, and be be total badasses which in turn, makes us all a ton of money. Well, I don't make a ton yet, but mark my words: I will. Because I am a badass. And this is a place that is custom made for badasses like me.

job hunt/tuberculosis/cheesecake

I never knew how hard it could be to get a job. I know that the economy sucks, that it's the slow season here, that most places are still overstaffed from the summer, but Jesus Christ, I have a damn MBA and I'm applying for jobs as a line cook, busser, or host. I know... you might say that that is the problem... that I'm over qualified for those jobs, but I'm under qualified to jump directly into a management position in a high volume restaurant.

After two weeks of button up shirts and khakis, craigslist, monster.com, and unsolicited walk-ins, I finally managed trudge through all of the lip-service interviews and into a place that appreciated my talents and understood my goals: The Cheesecake Factory. I had waited a while to apply there even though they are "always hiring great applicants" due to the fact that my cousin works there. I got the job (busser) at my second interview, have now completed my training and am an official Certified Cheesecake Factory Busser. Now to begin my unrelenting quest to be the best, to get to the top, and to learn as much as possible from the insanely large machine...

Oh yeah. TB. Hawaii has twice the number of tuberculosis cases (8.5/100,000) as the rest of the U.S. and as such, they require TB testing for all students, restaurant workers, and caregivers.) They put a little bit of liquid under the skin of your arm and then two days later you come back. If your arm has a dime sized discoloration/reaction in the spot where they injected you, you have TB. I do not. I imagined that I did -- that I would wake up in the morning and see the splotch and have to get lung x-rays and treatments and not be able to work for months and how amazed everyone would be that I had consumption. I could become a public speaker, telling people how important TB prevention and treatment were, while quietly coughing blood into my handkerchief for dramatic effect. But I do not in fact have TB.