Embarrassing story time again. These come around when I'm sitting staring at my computer and it's way past noon and I've got nothing posted. I have plenty of embarrassing stories to choose from for my writer's block days. We all have our go-to thing...
Warning: Not for the squeamish. Contains blood and guts and cringing.
I worked at Wendy's the summer after I student taught. (There are other Wendy's stories in my archives if you feel like searching...yes, also of the embarrassing category.) I started as “back-room closer” which meant I came in after the dinner rush and started doing dishes. After we closed, I was the lucky girl to empty and clean the frosty machine, the deep fat fryer, the giant vat we made the chili in, and the french fry fryers, the grills, and let's not forget all those individual tubs from the salad bar, which was all the rage in, yes I'll say it, 1987. It was mindless, gross, boring work, but the people were fun and we joked around a lot and tried to make the best of it.
After about a month, they started to let me run the registers and make burgers, fill orders and do less menial stuff. They hired a new back-room closer whom I got to train. One of the tasks I failed to mention was the cutting and chopping and prepping of the burger toppings should they run low at the end of the day. Onions and tomatoes, mostly. We had neat gadgets for this. Sharp gadgets. Dangerous in the wrong hands gadgets.
I was showing the new girl how to slice tomatoes with the mandolin.
(google free images, this one is basic, ours was bigger and fancier and had more blades)
She was doing OK, but at one point asked for help. I started to push down on the tomato, but it was a bit stuck, so I pushed harder. I should not have.
Her fingers were in the way. Then only her partial fingers were in the way. I'd sliced a few pieces off of them, just like a tomato. There was a lot of blood. We picked up the pieces, sorry about that pun but I just couldn't resist, put them in a baggie, and I got to drive her to the hospital. She was a bit green, I was quite freaked out, and I will admit it took me a while to find the correct entrance, even though I'd been there plenty of times before. (Most of my embarrassing stories do involve some sort of injury, but usually of myself. I don't make it a habit to slice and dice others.)
She was going to be just fine. The pieces were so small they weren't worth stitching back on, her fingers would just grow back. I drove her and her quite impressive bandage home, and returned to the scene of the crime. After all, they were now down one closer, and I had experience. Just enough to be dangerous.
Have you ever accidentally injured someone else? Yourself? Wanna share something embarrassing? It would make me feel less stupid...