Retired… and Working as a Deli Cook

Life on Social Security is not for the weak of heart.

See this photo? It’s not me. I do live by a lake in the mountains, but for the time being my days are spent cooking at a deli a few hours a day, five days a week.

You might ask (my daughters did), “Why would you do this (cook) if retired? Well, not because I want to, that’s for damn sure. I was doing fine until the price of everything skyrocketed upwards. Then our property taxes increased by 25% over the past 2 years. Of course, my old pickup needs some work also, so I need to have something saved for that… just in case, don’t ya know.

Let’s be honest and cut to the chase. It’s all about money. This is why I need my friends and family on Medium to read and comment on my stories. I don’t want to cook, and you don’t want me to cook because you’ll feel guilty knowing I need to make an income from Medium.

Anyway, I’ve been doing fine for several (seven) years on my Social Security every month because I have no debt. Well, I had no debt. Then my AC went out on my truck. The parts were covered by a warranty. The labor is not. Go figure. So $450 in labor later, I have a new AC system.

Then I got to thinking, that I also should work because there are some other things I would like, and using my Social Security would take several months at least, saving to afford them. I want to build a structure to park our camper under. The camper was not my idea either. That falls into the “happy wife, happy life” category.

And then there’s the need to replace furniture in the house. I want a comfortable recliner to fall asleep in at night. So there’s that. She can buy her own.

Last, I want a motorcycle. I’ve been riding motorcycles for 50 years but had to sell mine 2 years ago when we moved to Georgia. No room in the trailer. “I’ll just buy another one”, I said. Right. Now half of my girlfriend’s stuff is sitting in boxes in the basement. Neither of us knows what’s in them. I knew I should’a bring the motorcycle. What’s that they say about hindsight?

Back to this job. I haven’t worked as a cook since I owned my restaurant from 2001 through 2003. I have well over a decade of experience as a professional broiler cook, saute chef and kitchen manager. It’s hard work, for those who’ve never done it. You are on your feet the entire time, non-stop, on concrete floors. Now here I am years later, and I find that at the end of the shift here, my back hurts, my legs hurt, and my feet hurt. This is the first time I’ve felt “old”.

What’s just as bad as hurting all over from being on my feet for half a day every day, is working in a kitchen that is so far removed from “professional” and what I was used to in my past restaurant positions that I want to yell “What the hell are you people doing?”

This business is a case of absolute chaos, of the blind leading the blind. It starts with a nice woman who’s the kitchen manager. She’s never cooked, has no idea how to cook or where anything is, and as best I can tell, has never managed a kitchen.

The best I can determine is she must spend all her time filling out schedules. Admittedly, this could be a daunting task in and of itself, since she has so much trouble finding help. She has almost 40 people on a schedule for a deli which should require half of that. There’s a lot of overlap. She admitted she has trouble getting people to show up and work. So she’s forced to rely upon those who do show up, and they are lost.

Every day, people are standing around like kids before class in high school, laughing, on their phones, and getting in the way. Except they aren’t kids. In fact, the only people actually working, doing their jobs, are older people like me. They are slow but they are working. And they smile. The younger ones in their 20s and 30s all walk around like zombies, acting like they’re pissed off at the world. One guy actually said, “I hate this job. I may go back and get my GED.” Yup, that’s what he said.

Now this definitely needs a mention. I have to. I have worked in restaurants of all kinds, from fine to casual dining, in resorts, and in so-called high-end dining facilities. Two days ago in this deli, the “head cook” (a kid maybe 25 years old) brought seven one-pound packages of ground beef out of the cooler and told me to open them up and put them in two metal pans. Fine.

Stupid me. I had to ask what he was making. “Nothing,” he said. “They need to be frozen before they go bad.” So I ask “Why not just freeze them?” He responded, “The meat needs to be cooked before freezing it”. “Really”, I thought to myself. He ignored me when I asked him why. He proceeded to fill both pans, with the meat in them, with water! Then mooshing it all up into gray-colored gook. Now I’m really curious. “What the hell are you doing?” As he continues smashing the ground beef in with the water he responds, “Cooking the meat so I can freeze it, of course! The water will make it cook faster!” I’m incredulous. “Why?” I asked. “You said you don’t need it for a day or two.” “This is what we do to save the meat”, he said.

I was both amazed and nauseated at the same time. And incredulous! But mostly nauseated. He just destroyed seven pounds of meat. Whatever that mess gets used in, it will taste like cardboard, free from nutrients and free from any taste or flavor. It was absolutely sickening to look at, let alone to imagine eating it. Yet that is going to get thawed, used, and at some point… god forbid, eaten by some poor soul.

Never in my life as a cook, chef, and/or kitchen manager, have I ever seen anything like that. Not ever.

This is my life. I’m a ‘professional deli’ cook. It’s been humbling, if not frightening. I leave there every day now, shaking my head at what I see. I’m not sure how long I’ll be there, but probably not very long.

My entire life I have worked for myself, at my own businesses, so I always have been happy at work because I enjoyed what I was doing and took immense pride in what I did. I fail to understand why people continue to show up at a job they hate. Life’s too short. I stood there today for a minute watching the other people there, trying to understand, “Why?” I couldn’t. Nobody takes pride in what they do anymore it seems.

As for me, I will be taking my own advice sooner than later regarding my comment about enjoying what you do. What I have witnessed at this place has made me realize, that it is truly time to retire. If I can make it a few more weeks, I think I’ll be good. And done.