44 - 3/19/11 - Marshside Storytime VIII

Initial Impressions

Christopher Setterlund

44 – 3/19/11

Marshside Storytime VIII – Cooks vs. Food

For tonight’s Marsh Storytime we go back to the most famous food fight in Marsh history.  We go all the way back to my first year there, 1993, for this one in a million story.  In my first season I was a young and naïve dishwasher, yes an American dishwasher, they went extinct sometime in the late 90’s.  Anyway, I was working the night shift with three other very famous Marsh Hall of Famers, Maui, Remi, and Craig. 

            The night was relatively slow and I was able to coast a bit with the dishes.  Being new I was pretty quiet and just did what I was told unlike today where I don’t shut up.  During the night I would get periodic requests to go across to the prep area/barn/warehouse and retrieve something needed by the kitchen.  It was slow enough that Craig had been sent across to do some night prep so I was able to ask him what exactly they needed back in the kitchen.

            At some point Maui and Remi thought it would be funny to start throwing cherry tomatoes at me as I headed across the parking lot.  Lucky for me they were pretty bad shots.  Tomatoes would skid across the rocky parking lot or splat against the barn.  The throwing of cherry tomatoes became a past-time and we even ended up having a few tomato plants growing by the prep room door after a while.

            With their first assault attempt a failure I figured they’d quit and leave me alone.  Wrong.  It seemed odd that they constantly needed stuff from next door but being new I did not question the frequency of the trips.  Each time the tiny tomatoes would come whizzing by, only one or two actually making contact with me.  The rest were a waste which would have been hell in today’s ‘food cost is all that matters’ Marsh.

            I ended up cluing Craig into what was up since he had heard a few of the tomatoes hit the wall and wondered what was happening.  Craig knew that Maui and Remi were waiting outside for me to come back and hooked me up with a large sheet pan which I held like a shield to protect myself.  From inside the prep room I could clearly see Maui standing in the kitchen doorway watching.  It was dusk but I always had good eyes.  Sadly I could not see Remi which worried me.

            The capper for me went this way.  I had the sheet pan in front of me and was preparing to head out the door into the war zone.  Craig came up behind me and told me to ‘take this to throw.’  I put my right hand back and he put something in it.  I thought that it was a tomato or maybe a dinner roll.  Wrong again.  I opened the door and stepped out. 

            Immediately Maui began firing, tomatoes splatted near me but I was untouched.  Then I saw Remi, he had been ducking down standing on the picnic table next to the dumpster.  Being concealed by the seven-foot fence he had a great surprise attack position.  He began firing and the cherry tomatoes struck the sheet pan, so having that paid off.  Then Remi made his mistake.

            He got down from the picnic table and started to run for the kitchen door.  From my angle there was less than three-feet of open space between the fences, not to mention the steps going up to the deck, and the fact that it was almost dark.  Baring that in mind I cocked my right hand back and fired what was in it.  Now, what I thought was a roll or tomato ended up being a raw red bliss potato a little bigger than a golf ball.

            With all of the things going against me it seemed like I would nail the fence.  Nope.  I nailed Remi as he ran up the stairs right in the side of the head.  The 6’3” 200+ lb. Remi collapsed in a heap on the deck.  Shocked that I actually hit him, and worried that the big man might kill me, I ran over to check on him.

            I apologized profusely as he still lay on the deck clutching the side of his head.  He was surprisingly conciliatory and admitted that he had started it by throwing the tomatoes.  So I was off the hook and we had a world famous story to tell for all eternity.  Food fights like that did not happen all that much after that, we all had learned our lesson, even though nothing happened to me so what the hell did I have to learn.  Maybe to check what’s in your hand before you throw it?  Oh well, that’s Craig’s fault not mine.  Cheers!

34 - 2/22/11 - Marshside Storytime

Initial Impressions

34 – 2/22/11 – Marshside Storytime

Snow Chance In Hell: c. 2002/03

Okay so this is a first Initial Impressions to feature Marshside Storytime.  These are pulled from the archives of my nearly 18 years at the Marsh.  They are all hilarious, although some are probably going to make me look like a real asshole.  Whatever, there is a statute of limitations on these actions.  Enjoy.

At the old Marshside we had a large barn located across the small dirt parking lot.  It was here that we had our walk-in fridge, prep area, and a large section of the barn which was filled with paper goods and a lot of random stuff.

                At one point we had a really weak intercom system put in.  It worked at first but not too long after it sounded like when you put your whole mouth over a microphone, it became just a bunch of garbled sounds.  It became more reliable to step out onto our deck and shout or whistle for somebody in the prep area if we needed something to be brought over.

                When it would snow we would take to throwing snowballs at the side of the barn.  Sometimes to get people’s attention, sometimes for fun, sometimes to throw at people.  Hey, we’re only human.

                Anyway, there was one time where this one guy Bento was in the prep room doing his thing when we needed him to bring us something.  A few snowballs and shouts brought him to the door.  I told him what we needed and he went to get it.  Of course, I had another snowball left over, it couldn’t go to waste.

                When he came back out I fired the snowball at him but missed.  He was not amused.  I enjoyed it though and decided that the game of the day would be to see how many times I could call to Bento, get him to come out, and then how many times I could hit him with snowballs.

                After a couple of times, and a couple of bad misses by me, he wised up.  I shouted to him and threw a snowball at the barn but Bento would not come out.  I was not to be denied the satisfaction of drilling him with my perfectly round ball of frozen water so I went in the prep room after him.  

                I quietly opened the screen door and the storm door and crept a few steps back to where our tiny prep area was.  There was an unsuspecting Bento chopping lettuce for salads.  Aww, maybe I shouldn’t since he has no idea?  Wrong.

                Being a sport I shouted, “Hey!”  Bento looked up and his eyes got huge behind his giant Drew Carey-like black-rimmed glasses. 

                “No!  No!”  Bento shouted as he pressed himself up against the wall knowing the end was near for him.  He acted as if I was Jason Voorhees and was about to throw an axe at him.  This scene of pure horror from him caught me off guard and I busted out laughing.  There was no way I could control myself.  Still, it was too late to turn back.  I cocked my arm back while still laughing and fired the snowball from about eight-feet away. 

                My aim was sad thanks to my laughter and the snowball sailed to the left knocking a clock off of the wall.  The snow splattered against the wall the clock spun around in the air bouncing off of the shelves on the left side of the prep room.  Bento breathed a sigh of relief and I dashed out of the prep room still laughing.  I think it took a few weeks for him to trust me enough to come outside when I whistled for him.  Ahh, good times. 

Altered to protect the innocent.