It feels like I just graduated college or something...one job down one to go.

Today was my final eight hour shift at a kitchen in Ames...Wednesdays are generally pretty low key and uneventful...or so I thought.
This morning started as it usually did...I show up at 9am and do hardly anything until our first customer arrives. If the closers from the night before didn't scumbag me of course....if there has been some scumming then the morning is a busy time...anyhow
The first people to arrive happen to be a 15 top...no bigger, yesterday it was a 50 top. Then a few college kids sit up at the bar and I sneak out to ask what they want before the 15 orders....no reply so I shrug and go back to the dungeon.
A few tables later I am a little sweaty and made a small mess...my last day on the job I am continuously thinking about making a massive and endless mess. As I am lost in thought about throwing a lot of ice into a hot fryer the health inspector walks into the kitchen. In that instant I am torn between grabbing raw meat and throwing it everywhere or putting on gloves and acting appropriately. This is a difficult choice because I really....really want to throw ice in the fryer but that would get my kitchen shut down and me fired, oh wait I quit....but other people depend on the restaurant as a means to an end so....I put gloves on.
Four slow hours later I punch out for the last time and ride the elevator down to the basement and I get in my car. I saw one last goodbye to my kitchen and I never look back.

Except on Friday of course when we get paid!!