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customers Hot Dog Days My San Francisco Chronicles Work Diaries

Crackheads…

Well, I guess there’s a first for everything: today was my first time serving crackhead customers. I wasn’t sure if they were homeless or not, but I was pretty sure they were on crack or some other sort of drugs. At first, I was hoping they would just peer at the cart menu and just wander off on their own. But the main, vocal woman kept saying to her friend/acquaintance, “I wanna hot dawg!” and kept eyeing the menu for which one she wanted.

This woman took her sweet time making her decision; meanwhile, there was a small line forming behind her, and I really wanted to move onto the next customer, but the crackhead was being demanding and asking for what she wanted. I told her the price immediately so she would show me her money first before I handed her her hot dog; after all, I was not sure if she even had any money on her.

“I HAVE money, thank you! Ya don’t hav’ to keep repeating the total to me,” she replied back to me. I was feeling frazzled by this point and kept dropping the hot dog buns with the tongs; I handed her one hot dog, and she took it and gave it to her friend. At this point, it looked like they were going to walk away without paying, but then the main woman ordered another hot dog for herself.

Finally, it was time to pay up, and I told her the total amount quickly and sternly. I watched her carefully while she pulled out her money; meanwhile, I had to give an apologetic look to the waiting customers since I really could not refuse the crackhead’s service, despite her being so rude to me. I did not want to go off in front of her, especially in front of young children. She finally had enough money and paid, and I handed her change back quickly.

She and her friend did not go away immediately, though. The next customer got into line and ordered her hot dog/pretzel, when suddenly the crackhead yelled loudly “BITCH I HATE YOU!” or something of the sort…not sure who she was referring to (maybe her friend?) but at this point I dropped a few more hot dog buns because it startled me and made me feel angry inside.

Luckily, the two crackheads left shortly after that outburst, and I think the subsequent customers felt sympathetic towards me since I had to endure the behavior. They ended up giving me tips, and pretty good ones at that! One guy was with his two kids and he let me keep a really big tip because his reasoning was, “You deserve it since you had to put up with those, er, ‘clients’ earlier.”

I felt like just his kindness (and the kindness of the other two customers) was enough to make my day after the crackheads left.

Actually, the main crackhead came back in the afternoon to throw away her trash…at this point, instead of feeling anger towards her, I felt a bit of pity since she seemed to be wandering alone at that point. I don’t know where her friend went, but the woman said that she had fallen asleep and that she was going to go elsewhere at that point.

Hm, the interesting life of a hot dog vendor in San Francisco….

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homeless man Hot Dog Days My San Francisco Chronicles observation Work Diaries

Cat Peddler and Mustard/Mayonnaise.

So over the course of my workdays, I have noticed certain homeless people hovering around the cart. I’m guessing in the past they have had run-ins with the cart, so now they know not to tread too closely.

Anyway, yesterday and today I worked the cart in front of Macy’s, and have found myself amused by the “cat peddler”. I’ve seen it and its owner around before; saw them back in March when I first started working. Basically, what appears to be a cat begging for money is actually its owner being “clever” and placing the cat with its catbed and a dish for money. Oblivious people walk by, see the cat, feel pity, and drop some money. Only after they drop the money do they realize that the owner had been standing by the whole time–he usually says “Thank you” after the people give money to the cat.

The past two days, I’ve noticed not as many people falling for the trick. Either people have just been overlooking the cat or they have caught onto the cat owner’s trick. To me, the guy who owns the cat doesn’t look TOO bad off–perhaps he is homeless, but he doesn’t look the part really. He just looks lazy to me–maybe low-income, but not homeless. I rarely notice when he arrives at his “reserved spot”–he comes in like a ninja most of the time.

Anyway, that’s one observation I’ve made over the past two days. Today, I was “introduced” to another “regular” homeless; the girl walked up to me and asked me for four mayonnaise packets and four mustard packets. She seemed a little doped out in some way, but I wasn’t sure–but anyway, that was all she asked for; didn’t ask for free food. She asked me if I was new, so that probably meant that she’s been around the carts a bit, too.

Last but not least, I think there’s either a homeless or crazy (or both) guy who runs around cursing/yelling. Sounds like he has Tourette’s Syndrome. I heard him this morning yelling obscenities about how “Americans should own America, etc. etc.” and he kept saying the f-bomb. I had noticed him before around another cart; at first glance, I thought he was just a normal guy walking around with his wife/girlfriend. But then I noticed him yelling loudly and cursing constantly, and that made me realize “Ooh….something not right with him.” Meanwhile, the whole time he’s yelling/cursing, his female partner walks beside him calmly, either because she’s embarrassed and doesn’t know how to control him, or she’s so used to him now that she’s become oblivious to his actions.

I’m sure there are other more interesting characters around, but I haven’t encountered them yet.

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Work Diaries

Ice machine, breaking down.

The ice machine was not working well at work today, much to our dismay. I had to keep listening to it to check on whether both ice machines were running or not.

In order to know that both machines were working, ice had to drop every 6-8 minutes.

When I listened for the ice, it seemed to drop more every 12 minutes. This meant that one of the machines was not working.

Ice is a big deal at work–we need to ice the hot dog meats, ice the drinks, and fill up coolers with loads of ice. Ice, ice, ice.

When I left work today, there was very little ice in the icebox; my boss said he would get it fixed during the week. Hoping that there’s enough ice for the next day…

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Hot Dog Days mistake Work Diaries

Mistakes at work.

Well, the first mistake at work happened on Thursday, and although it was a small mistake, unfortunately it is publicly known from this point forward.

Basically, I didn’t keep the temperature high enough to cook the hot dog meat when the health inspector came by. And although we still got an “A” score, it was not a perfect score, and it was a major offense in the books.

I felt really devastated and freaked out for a moment, but I think we all had to step back for a moment and re-evaluate things, put things into perspective. Nobody is perfect; we all know that. Despite my overall good performance so far at the carts, a mistake was bound to happen sooner or later. Thankfully, my manager and boss both realized this and said that next time I should be more careful; but in the end, we all make mistakes. Mistakes happen so that we may learn from them.

Actually, today it seemed that the issue already kind of became a joke amongst us; seems that things are okay for now again. I am going to be more careful with the temperature now, and seems that there will be new rules/procedures in effect within the next month to make sure that such a mistake will not happen again. We all learned from this incident; now we hope that it will not happen again.

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Hot Dog Days memories music My San Francisco Chronicles Work Diaries

Radio Oldies

I don’t usually listen to radio, but since I’ve started working at the hot dog carts, I have been really digging the KISS 98.1 FM radio station here in San Francisco. The station reminds me of a mix of K92.3 and Q99.1 from back east, in that it plays popular oldies and some more recent, contemporary songs.

Today while working at the commissary, I was singing along with the Jackson 5, Marvin Gaye, etc. Ah, so many of the songs on the radio give me quite a bout of nostalgia. I was only born in 1985, but so many golden oldies from the ’60s, ’70s, and early ’80s remind me of my childhood. Probably because my siblings and I used to always watch those music video shows on VH1 back when they actually showed music videos. “Whatever happened to…”, “One-Hit Wonders”, etc. We were bored a lot at home, so we ended up learning a lot of American music history.

I feel like I can listen to KISS 98.1 all day…I practically did that today since I ended up working close to 8-9 hours (was slow in the prep work today). So many songs that I recognised, so many memories…