The Lost Art of Flipping Burgers
This particular post probably has little or nothing to do with zen or psychotherapy, and more to do with a case of writers' block. That, and sometimes you just recall stuff about your life at odd times.
So the other night I was remembering that I got my first job at sixteen working the grill at Burger King. In those days there was no shame attached to flipping burgers, it was just something a lot of average kids did to make some extra spending money.
For some reason, I fell in love with the job. There was just something about the repetitiveness of the process that appealed to me. No thoughts, no feelings, no memories, just a continuous flip, flip, flip. I caught on so quickly that after working the grill for only a week, they offered me a part-time management position. Unfortunately, my family decided to move away at that point, and I had to turn down the offer.
I picked up where I left off at the Burger King in my new city. By this time I had refined my burger flipping prowess to a new level. I had to in order to keep up with what the fast food business calls "rushes." Typically lunch rushes would start at 11:30, but they could be incredibly unpredictable. One minute you could be looking at an empty lobby, turn away for a minute, and then out of nowhere be looking at a huge crowd of hungry people. When that happened, I'd shift into gear. As orders came over the loudspeaker, my hands would fly to the warmer, I'd grab a couple of burgers and go to work. I could put pickles, ketchup and mustard on a regular burger, wrap it, and jam it into the microwave in around five seconds. Then I'd rip it out and slide it down the chute to be bagged by the cashier. Bigger burgers took a little longer because they required lettuce, tomatoes, mayonnaise, onions, ketchup and pickles. Probably around eight to ten seconds for one of those. If we were shorthanded in the kitchen I'd also be cooking french fries and making chicken or fish filet sandwiches. I didn't waste a second in that kitchen. Just kicked ass from start to finish.
There might be one or two people in the world who still remember how fast I worked in that kitchen. Other than that, it's just a memory. I also remember falling in love, hanging out with everyone in the parking lot on slow summer nights, being silly and listening to rock and roll on the radio. Such a long time ago! Life just flies by. Where have the years gone?
So the other night I was remembering that I got my first job at sixteen working the grill at Burger King. In those days there was no shame attached to flipping burgers, it was just something a lot of average kids did to make some extra spending money.
For some reason, I fell in love with the job. There was just something about the repetitiveness of the process that appealed to me. No thoughts, no feelings, no memories, just a continuous flip, flip, flip. I caught on so quickly that after working the grill for only a week, they offered me a part-time management position. Unfortunately, my family decided to move away at that point, and I had to turn down the offer.
I picked up where I left off at the Burger King in my new city. By this time I had refined my burger flipping prowess to a new level. I had to in order to keep up with what the fast food business calls "rushes." Typically lunch rushes would start at 11:30, but they could be incredibly unpredictable. One minute you could be looking at an empty lobby, turn away for a minute, and then out of nowhere be looking at a huge crowd of hungry people. When that happened, I'd shift into gear. As orders came over the loudspeaker, my hands would fly to the warmer, I'd grab a couple of burgers and go to work. I could put pickles, ketchup and mustard on a regular burger, wrap it, and jam it into the microwave in around five seconds. Then I'd rip it out and slide it down the chute to be bagged by the cashier. Bigger burgers took a little longer because they required lettuce, tomatoes, mayonnaise, onions, ketchup and pickles. Probably around eight to ten seconds for one of those. If we were shorthanded in the kitchen I'd also be cooking french fries and making chicken or fish filet sandwiches. I didn't waste a second in that kitchen. Just kicked ass from start to finish.
There might be one or two people in the world who still remember how fast I worked in that kitchen. Other than that, it's just a memory. I also remember falling in love, hanging out with everyone in the parking lot on slow summer nights, being silly and listening to rock and roll on the radio. Such a long time ago! Life just flies by. Where have the years gone?
posted by David H at 9:45 PM
1 Comments:
it was a dishwasher at a vegetarian restaurant in Providence Rhode Island who started me off down this path (zazen)
he liked the way I stacked my bus tubs and must have seen something in me for zen or something in zen for me
he gave me my first book...seeds were planted...
25 years later...
I used to think there was a way to explain it (zazen)--"it's like taking life straight up, no mixers, no chaser, no olives or umbrellas"--but as much as I like metaphors, zen is also olives and umbrellas, cherries and salted peanuts
the best I can do is give instructions for sitting to someone who is interested enough to want to try it for themself. I can urge them to practice with a teacher (just like I'd caution a new swimmer to swim where there's a guard on duty)
For all my teachers, past present and future, I am grateful and give a deep bow.
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