It's Barely 9AM and temperature outside is reading 90 degrees. From my battery-operated radio every station is tuned into the weather. Where it will be hottest. Where it will be coolest. What to do. What not to do. It's all the same information we hear in January. Expect then they're talking about ice storms and blizzards. Snow, just the thought of it makes me feel like I've lived another life. It's hot, there's no doubt about it, and I slurp down bottles of diet Gatorade. The sweat runs down my eyes, but it doesn't sting. I lick it off my lip, but it tastes like water. This must mean something, but I have no idea what. The day is busy, in a slow kind of way. Customers take their time ordering and I don't rush to whip out egg sandwiches.
It must have been quarter to noon when the lights went out. Nothing dramatic- a deep sigh as the fans slow to a stop and the rattle of refridgeration cuts to silence. I've just finished making a wrap and he glances at my overhead lights (or lack therof) but says nothing as he waves and leaves. I move quickly to the power box, convinced that I've blown a fuse. Or rather, blown all of the fuses. I know that the refridgerators are working overtime in this heat, and I appreciate their hard work. And the freezer and the electric grill and the small portable frialator. Just please, don't quit on me now! I mutter out loud. Not when it's a hundred degrees out. Not when I'm counting on you most! But the switches aren't blown, or maybe they're so blown that it's not even registering on my power box. Cindy, my sweet landlord stops by and says that she's lost power and have we? Oh no! Could it be that I've singlehandedly powered off our take out stand and three entire rental properties? I'm in the midst of apologizing and planning an emergency rescue for the 12 pounds of (used to be) frozen lobster meat when we notice people spilling out of the surrounding buildings. The power is out all down the strip. It wasn't me. It turns out that I am, in fact, not the source of all energy, (despite my recent elation at several really nice reviews by people who are kinders than we deserve).
And so, for two hours we operate without electricity. The line is out to the road (which, for us, means about 5 people) as I make cold wraps and lobster rolls to order. Working with cash and rounding down prices so that everyone can pay and no one goes hungry. And people are incredible. There's no complaining (except for one annoyed man who thought it was "a little strange" that we had no power and I still had on the radio. I guess his doesn't have batteries). My customers are worried that I'm going to overheat. They wait 20 minutes in temperatures that are reading 104 in the shade for wraps that aren't even grilled off. They're cold, like the deli wraps you'd get at a supermarket. I'm embarrassed and grateful and we continue this way for a solid two hours until someone mentions to me that there's power again. There's been power for the last 30 minutes, he says. Didn'tcha know? I didn't. Because in my worry, I had turned the main power switch to off. We have a laugh as I switch it all back on while Rich pulls up with 160 pounds of ice. Ice that we no longer need for lobster. And the final customers pull away as we grab another gatorade and sit on top of the ice, trying to chill out.
It must have been quarter to noon when the lights went out. Nothing dramatic- a deep sigh as the fans slow to a stop and the rattle of refridgeration cuts to silence. I've just finished making a wrap and he glances at my overhead lights (or lack therof) but says nothing as he waves and leaves. I move quickly to the power box, convinced that I've blown a fuse. Or rather, blown all of the fuses. I know that the refridgerators are working overtime in this heat, and I appreciate their hard work. And the freezer and the electric grill and the small portable frialator. Just please, don't quit on me now! I mutter out loud. Not when it's a hundred degrees out. Not when I'm counting on you most! But the switches aren't blown, or maybe they're so blown that it's not even registering on my power box. Cindy, my sweet landlord stops by and says that she's lost power and have we? Oh no! Could it be that I've singlehandedly powered off our take out stand and three entire rental properties? I'm in the midst of apologizing and planning an emergency rescue for the 12 pounds of (used to be) frozen lobster meat when we notice people spilling out of the surrounding buildings. The power is out all down the strip. It wasn't me. It turns out that I am, in fact, not the source of all energy, (despite my recent elation at several really nice reviews by people who are kinders than we deserve).
And so, for two hours we operate without electricity. The line is out to the road (which, for us, means about 5 people) as I make cold wraps and lobster rolls to order. Working with cash and rounding down prices so that everyone can pay and no one goes hungry. And people are incredible. There's no complaining (except for one annoyed man who thought it was "a little strange" that we had no power and I still had on the radio. I guess his doesn't have batteries). My customers are worried that I'm going to overheat. They wait 20 minutes in temperatures that are reading 104 in the shade for wraps that aren't even grilled off. They're cold, like the deli wraps you'd get at a supermarket. I'm embarrassed and grateful and we continue this way for a solid two hours until someone mentions to me that there's power again. There's been power for the last 30 minutes, he says. Didn'tcha know? I didn't. Because in my worry, I had turned the main power switch to off. We have a laugh as I switch it all back on while Rich pulls up with 160 pounds of ice. Ice that we no longer need for lobster. And the final customers pull away as we grab another gatorade and sit on top of the ice, trying to chill out.
RSS Feed