The scar

On my right wrist, there sits a light pink slash. It could almost be mistaken for an attempt I might have made against my own life, yet it is off center a bit. Every time I look at it I have flash backs of the most difficult 6.5 years of my life.

Being a deli manager is definitely not for the weary and it consist of handling multiple tasks at a time. One of the many tasks is working with a large fryer and a very hot oven that has pans of chicken going in and out of it all day long. When you have a rush on football Sunday, those pans are flying like you have never seen before. There is no amount of safety training that one can take to properly prepare for the amount of chaos that goes on behind a deli counter.

There is very little room to maneuver around the other clerks as you quickly take two large pans out to feel the hot case as the last eight pieces is sold. Customers do have the time to for you to be as careful as possible and you can feel their impatient eyes burning into the back of your head. Because of your many years of experience you can handle those hot pans like a pro eye skater as you slide across the grease lined floor, well almost. Every once and awhile your nerves are too heightened and the stress is too high. One of pans slips off the hot pad and you feel the sting on your wrist but you have to bear it as you find an open place on the counter to careful place your goods. Unfortunately, once the pan is removed you can’t attend to your fresh burn but have to continue your work.

Whether or not you received a wound in the everyday chicken battle, you felt beat by the end of the day. The scar on my wrist was not the most painful affliction I have ever received, but it is a reminder of one of the most painful jobs that I have ever had.