In fourth grade someone got the bright idea of cutting lunch to an outrageous 15 minutes (as if going to a year-round school without a cafeteria wasn't enough--we ate at our desks and were served by mobile carts in the hall). To get the slow eaters (me) up to speed, our teachers implemented a charming little policy called "Shovel Time."
The first nine minutes would pass normally. Then as the tenth approached, Miss Stauffer (a feathered-haired gal who drove a Camaro and loved Little River Band) would yell, "Do you know what time it is?!" The class would manically shriek back, "SHOVEL TIME!!!" Talking was absolutely forbidden the final five minutes—it was a deathly silent scarf fest.
I
don't know if I've ever been the same since. But as a nod to this classy
ritual, I've adopted the humble scooping implement as my rating system's
icon. Shovel on!
----------------------------------
1 Shovel=Passing Fancy
2 Shovels=Puppy Love
3 Shovels=Crippling Crush
4 Shovels=Serious Stalking
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I’ve been semi-seriously toying with the idea of extricating myself from office work, though I don’t neccessarily see myself as a server, cook, dishwasher, host, bartender or expediter (all available positions). I haven’t worked food service since 1990 when I was a dough maker in a delivery-only Pizza Hut.
Then again, the ad does say, ”experience is a PLUS” not a requirement.
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Working at Pizza Hut seriously sounds dreamy, as it's my favourite chain pizza. Did that make you hate it or love it all the more?
Posted by: plumpdumpling | November 05, 2009 at 04:39 PM
plumpdumpling: Well, I didn't hate it. I was a youngster and it was the only place that would hire me (my sister was friends with the manager's son) because I had crazy colored hair at the time. I'd try to come up with fun pizza combos to eat but there's only so much you can do with their standard ingredients.
Posted by: Krista | November 06, 2009 at 03:50 PM