pizza gluten free

Tales from a Summer at an Amusement Park Food Line

- While attempting to close on my very first shift, I accidentally dropped an entire container of Italian dressing on the floor. Most of it went into my socks. It made for a very unpleasant ride home.

- The line I worked in served personal pan pizzas, club wraps, carved turkey sandwiches, salads (side salads as well as Mediterranean salads), very large pickles, and a variety of desserts made in store. We were allowed to alter recipes as people requested, within reason. One person requested a pizza without sauce. I respected her decision. A surprising number of people requested pizzas without cheese. I questioned theirs, especially since they got pepperoni.

- We offered a gluten-free pizza that took twenty minutes to cook (ordinary pizzas took five). There was one man I came to recognize who showed up at least every other week to order a gluten-free pizza. I very much hope that he had a season’s pass, or he was spending upwards of $70 a week for the privilege of waiting on a pizza.

- A child came in with his parents one day and they began asking about the ingredients in all our food. As my coworker began to answer, I stopped him and asked if this were an allergy question; when told yes, I asked them to wait and went to hunt down a manager, as company policy stated that only managers or higher could answer questions regarding allergies. My coworkers did not understand why I was wasting people’s time like this. I attempted to explain to them that I had no desire to kill a seven-year-old because I thought I knew better than the allergen manual. They continued to ridicule me. The mother made a point of thanking me in front of my supervisor when she arrived for apparently being the only person who was concerned about the well-being of her child, who was evidently allergic to everything.

- This was far from the only argument I had with my coworkers about allergen safety. I fear for the customers.

- A man came into my line one afternoon, looked at me, looked at the salads, looked at me, looked at the salads again, looked at me, pointed directly at the salads, and said, “You sell salads?” I expended every ounce of willpower I had left not to respond, “No, sir, those are small ornamental shrubbery.”

- Victoria Justice came to give a concert at our park one afternoon. I have never heard any of her music, but between the fact that she was apparently an elitist bully to the ride attendants (and other guests) when she was enjoying her day at the park and the fact that the park was sold out that day with mostly girls under the age of twelve, all of whom wanted pizza for lunch, I have decided that I hate her.

- A couple came through my line. We recognized each other. They were parishioners at the church I had worked for prior to the amusement park. I left the church because I was fired in a very underhanded and unprofessional manner. I cheerfully told them to say hello to everybody for me. They left very quickly.

- Part of our job was to engage any guests waiting in line in conversation, especially the children. I was exceptionally good at this part of my job. My coworkers were either in awe or jealous.

- The number of people who did not understand that I did not have their special orders ready before they thought to order them was mind-boggling.

- A toddler came into my line and began chattering with me. This would not have been unusual, except that his parents were nowhere in sight, nor was any other adult, as they were all in the other room watching the show. I leaned as far over the counter as I could to keep the little guy talking and in sight until an adult came to take responsibility for him. To this day, I sincerely hope that the adult who came for him was actually his mother.

- While attempting to close down our second line, I used one of the four doors to the small refrigerator cases to support myself as I pushed myself from a squatting position to a standing one. I ripped the door off its top hinge.

- My coworker made a joke one night about something she would like to do. I explained how it would be possible. Her eyes filled with fear. I had to explain that I am a writer and had done research for a mystery novel and that I have not, in fact, ever cut someone’s feet off at the ankles with a cake knife.

- I became somewhat well-known among my coworkers for knowing all the words to the songs in the shows that went on in the dining area while we were cooking/serving. Strangely enough, my coworkers were less confused as to how I, a 23-year-old, knew ‘80s pop songs than they were as to how I, a 23-year-old, knew German drinking songs.

- Three days before the end of the summer, having been friends with one particular colleague for nearly five months, I had to pull out my ID to prove to her that I was in my twenties and not, in fact, nineteen.

16.2.17.

Still very very upset about the pornbots that are targeting me. I just blocked and reported another five comments. Like, why are they here? There is not a single person on my blog that wants to find porn through it. Can I not share mental illness recovery related art without porn bots attacking me?! How low do you have to be to post spam on art that is trying to make people not hate themselves and not kill themselves because they are mentally ill? I am just trying to make people feel they are not alone in this stigmatized lonely fight that is mental illness. Why is this happening to me? My blog isn’t even that big compared to other art blogs.

Bonta d’Italia pizza with added chicken (cooked with oregano, garlic powder, cayenne and black pepper), artichoke, finely chopped courgette and extra mature cheddar cheese. {gf}

Commission note!

Thank you to everyone for their patience! This week I burned the fingers and palms of both hands (I…punched a pizza….), not badly, but enough to set me back a little. I’m back on the horse today and tackling the remaining third!

Hopefully by the middle of march I will be opening up a new commission list! Think of what you’d like, and help me not get evicted ;)


Thanks all!

This is just a thought I had but, Blanche and Spark would be the best parents and they would raise the best kids. Spark is so optimistic and nurturing and Blanche is so intelligent and mature. They’d be so loving. Wisdom and Intuition hand in hand. Their kids would be bomb. Smart, altruistic, resilient, determined, and caring. I WANT.