Once upon a time in Minneapolis

Once upon a time in Minneapolis, i was a dishwasher in a dreadful corporate chain restaurant.
Just a punk from Texas trying to get rent and beer together.
 I never had it together enough to hold on to my ID . Come payday I would have to ask my co-worker to help me cash my check by signing for it at the bank. Upon seeing his id I noticed letters after his name. Like PHD. He told me a little bit about his extensive schooling.As time went on I noticed he was just a normal guy who did a fine job at dishwashing but also kept to himself.
One day I had to ask him "Hey John, wh, w w why are you washing dishes with all that science cred? Why aren't you making aspirin in a factory or something for the big bucks?"
He said "I'm an anarchist. I don't want my tax dollars going overseas to fund a war so I'm keeping my income at the bare minimum. He was a chemist making great money. At some point the government upset him so much, he made changes to not be as available. He was happy to pay for roads and libraries though so he didn't go full off the grid. I was dumbfounded. Then he gave me a bit of advice that I use all the time. Advice that makes me think of him long after the memory of his face has faded...he said
"If you soak those lasagnia bowl in hot soapy water for about 10 min. that  baked on cheese comes right off.". Epic.
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Impostor of the dish pit.

I was standing around jaw jacking on Alberta street. 
Suddenly someone wearing an apron said
 "Hey Dingo, your shift is starting hurry up." It quickly dawned on me that
 (A). He knows who I am, but doesn't know I don't work there. 
 (B) I look a lot like a kitchen worker.
I walked into the darkish kitchen. My eyes adjusted and I saw all the line cooking positions occupied but no dish monkey. That must be me. 
In my life I have worked in restaurants from Florida to Oregon, Gulf Coast, Deep South, Midwest. I worked all the jobs from bottlewasher to bar tender. 
The dish pit was no mystery.
The night went on and I just worked it up. I may be an impostor but I'm gonna do a good job.We had a blast. Cook humor and kitchen radios are always fun. I love watching the cooks kick out tons of food. 
At the end of the night the same guy who told me to start told me to clock out.  
I said (after waiting and working all night for this moment) "I'm sorry, I never clocked in because I don't work here."
"Wait...WUT?"
"Yeah man, about seven hours ago, you told me to start working. 
 I didn't want to disappoint you."
"Dammit Dingo! Now I gotta pay ya cash, we hate doing that." 
He walked off laughing and the crew got a good chuckle when they found out.


In the end they didn't get too sore with me.
I washed dishes, made some child support money and it was so fun working hard and making some new friends.
Glad they didn't mind. They invited me back if the clown thing ever goes South.


In other news. My friend Anestasia went back to Alaska yesterday, she works on a pleasure boat.
I wanted to hang out with her and practice tango but I'ts not in the cards.