Sunday, June 11, 2017

#PizzaBlog Looking at the first summer

The Facebook "memories" deal showed me something from five years ago that made me do a bit of a double take. Five years ago, June 10, 2012, was the last day of operation for the "old" Pizza Hut building in Princeton. The one between McDonalds and Hardees, and across the street from the high school, shut down on that day and opened shortly after at its current location down the street in the Kroger plaza. I wasn't there when that happened.

I marked the occasion by getting nostalgic with some friends via text message, telling them that the five-year mark of "our" Pizza Hut closing was that day. We shared memories and good times, and also a few bad times.

It got me thinking about old times and things that have changed. With that, let's take a look back at how I got hired at Pizza Hut in June 2005 and my immediate thoughts on my first summer.

* * *

I sat around for the first week or so of my summer break in 2005 not doing a whole lot. I made it a point to watch Maury Povich every day. If I got up early enough I would catch "The Price is Right," but it was a chore getting up to watch something at 11 a.m. so I often missed that. I was sitting on the couch with Jed, my cat, when my mom walked past and innocently asked, "Why don’t you go get a job?" Hmmmm. A job? I’d never thought of that. Still 18 and not really being able to function on my own, I asked my mom what to do. She explained how the process worked: you go inside the building and ask for an application. Sounded simple enough. I didn’t have a car but we lived down the street from Stafford Drive, where a majority of fast-food businesses were located.

The walk wasn't long, but it was hot outside. Not prepared for that, I got a sunburn on the part in the middle of my getting-long hair. I bought SPF-80 sunscreen at CVS the next day and wound up using it literally only one day that summer.

The first place I stopped at was Hardees. I got an application and continued making my way up the street. Pizza Hut was next in line. Then McDonalds. Big Lots. Roses. On and on the application gathering continued. To this day, I’m still not sure if I imagined the following: I am positive that I saw some sort of sex shop. I remember looking at a window and seeing a pair of thigh-high leather boots and handcuffs. I walked past it without going in. I was still timid about things of that nature. The reason I'm still figuring out if my mind played tricks on me is because I never saw that place again. Now there’s a bank standing where the alleged sex shop was, but I never once saw that place again. Granted, I didn’t really look for it, but still.

I walked back home feeling accomplished. I sat back down on the couch and went back to petting Jed and watching TV. I showed my mom all of the applications I picked up. "Why didn’t you fill them out?" she asked. She didn’t care for my answer: "I didn’t have a pen." She told me to fill them out and take them back. Begrudgingly, I started writing down my name, address, and not checking the box asking if I’ve been convicted of a felony. 

I thought I was done walking for the day but I wasn’t, so I grabbed my completed applications and trudged back down the street. I walk into Hardees and hand somebody the application. They ask if I want to speak with a manager. Sure, I say. The manager’s a little busy so they ask if I can wait for a minute. Not really understanding how finding a job works, I say, "That’s okay" and leave. 

I go next door to Pizza Hut. I walk in and hand my application to an attractive, yet older woman. Her name is Janice. She is the general manager. She asks me to sit in a booth with her and conducts an impromptu interview.

"Do you have a car?"

"No, but I live right down the street. I walked here."

"Do you get sick a lot?"

"No. I don’t remember the last time I got sick."

"You’ll have to take out that lip ring. Are you willing to shave your goatee and sideburns?"

"That’s not a problem."

"Do you have black pants and black shoes?"

"Yes I do."

"Okay. Come back here tomorrow at 8 o’clock."

I went outside and called my mom to tell her I had a job. And that’s how my journey into the working world began.

Having a job was such a culture shock. I had never thought of myself as being sheltered, but I really was. Having a job was the first time I was exposed to -- for lack of a better term -- different people. And I don’t mean race or religion or anything like that. I mean different in the sense that until then all I knew was that you go to school, graduate, go to college, then go on to your career. 

I had never met a high school dropout before. I had never interacted with an old man who had no other career options aside from minimum wage. If you’ve never met somebody who society deems a "loser" then you have a negative connotation of them. Service and food industry workers have a bad reputation of being slackers and criminals and, yes, losers. 

Working along side these people showed me that most of them were really good people who were just in the middle of a bad situation. I met a lot of nice, smart people that were just there because they didn’t graduate or they had a kid and couldn’t get past surviving day-to-day and paycheck-to-paycheck. They wanted to move up and beyond but you get stuck in a rut and then you’re there. I liked those people and felt bad for them. 

I told myself early on that I wasn’t going to wind up like them: working a minimum wage job past a certain age. At 18, I didn’t know when I was ready to move on, but I eventually pegged that age at 25. If I was still working at Pizza Hut at 25, then I’d be a loser by my standards. And that’s what wound up happening, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

Two people I met early on stick out for important reasons. The first was a server named Debbie. She was one of the first people who warmed up to me and made me feel welcome there. We also had the same birthday -- August 18, although she was 10 years older than me. I thought it was really odd that she was 28-years-old and waiting tables for a living. At one point she was asked if she wanted to become a manager. She said no, her reason being that she made more money serving. Even at 18, with no experience in life, I thought that was a bad way to think. I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t want to work her way up the ladder. Wasn’t that the point of working? To go higher and higher? I didn’t realize that there were people who just thought short-term and didn’t see the big picture. Yeah, she made more money as a 28-year-old pretty server, but wouldn’t there be more job security as a manager once those 28-year-old looks start to fade?

I don’t remember the name of the other guy who sticks out to me. He was a delivery driver. From a visual standpoint, he sticks out because he was the first man I ever saw in person who had sleeve tattoos. A New York Yankees logo that was purple stuck out on the inside of his forearm. He had worked in the past as a tattoo artist, which I thought was cool. 

He was the first guy I was around that I ever heard talk about drugs. At this point I still hadn’t seen any; we were still a few years off from that. But, he talked about when he lived in Florida and used to sell cocaine. One night he had acquired some methadone, the drug people use to wean themselves off of heroin. He was asking around if anybody wanted to do it with him. He gathered up a few volunteers. I assume they had a good time. 

On a more personal level for me, this guy was the first person I ever heard who had something negative to say about college. Until that point, my mindset was go to college, graduate, get a career. It shocked me when I heard him say, "I can’t believe I have a graphic arts degree and I’m delivering pizza." As I got older and more jaded I understood where he was coming from, but at the time it was total and utter shock to hear somebody speak that way about graduating from college.

I felt an odd sense of pride every time I put on my Pizza Hut uniform. I liked the way I looked in it and I liked the way I felt when I went to work. I knew I wasn’t making a major contribution to society, but I still felt like every little bit counts. People need pizza and it was my job to give it to them. 

I used to often wonder what kind of people were eating the pizza I made. While I was placing toppings on a slab of dough I would imagine office workers having a party or kids eating with parents or business workers working on their next big proposal. One day I spun an elaborate story in my head about a man holding a woman hostage at gunpoint and ordering a pizza while he figures out what to do next and how his life got to this point. I had a very active imagination.

At the time I was a part-time, seasonal worker. I worked during the summer, went to school, then came back each additional summer. The first summer I was still learning and getting used to everything. I recall the odd look on the manager’s face when I asked her to show me how to use the mop wringer. "You mean you don’t know how to mop?" "No, I know how to mop. I’ve just never used one of these bucket things."

The final pizza I made that summer was a personal pan with pepperoni and green peppers. I left and completed my second year of college. Coming back for my second summer at Pizza Hut was important. I met what would become the core group of friends I’d have for the next five years or so.

* * *

And there are some memories from my first summer of working at Pizza Hut. I may check back in with some more stories about the people I encountered, and some more anecdotes. And, I will may take a look at summer number two at some point.

Check out my past #PizzaBlog entries here:



Wednesday, June 7, 2017

June 2017 Wrestling Thoughts

I was so happy to see Samoa Joe win the "Fatal Five Way" match at the WWE Extreme Rules event last Sunday. That's a guy who has really paid his dues and is super deserving of his chance at the top.

Joe is one of the early stars of Ring of Honor, and was one of the most under-used stars in the history of Impact Wrestling's 15-year life. He was totally on fire as the unstoppable bad ass during his stint as NXT Champion.

He will match up well in his title match against Brock Lesnar. Joe is legit tough and looks menacing. This match in about a month or so should be a great brawl. I wouldn't be surprised if we saw a suplex or two.

* * *

If you scour the archives of the blog here, you'll find a few complimentary posts about Austin Aries back in his Impact Wrestling days. I've always been a fan of his, and I was happy to see him reach the top in Impact, and even happier to see how he's succeeding in WWE.

While I do think he should have won the Cruiserweight Championship as the culmination of his feud with Neville, I am okay with him coming up short. Neville has been on a totally different level since winning the title. The "Neville Level," as he was referred to it on television. The "King of the Cruiserweights" is possibly the top bad guy in all of WWE right now.

And I'm a fan of the future of Aries. He will recover from this, eat a banana, and move on to the next obstacle in his path.

* * *

Noam Dar is going to be a star in WWE one day. Well, he already is, but he'll eventually break out as more than mid-card comedy act. The reason why that's working for him, and why he hasn't turned into a less-funny Santino Marella, is because he's still treated as a threat inside the ring. That's the key. He can be funny and goofy and pronounce Alicia Fox's name as "Alicia Fucks" due to this thick Scottish accent, but he's still a talented wrestler and that point isn't lost on the WWE audience.

He's only 23, so he has plenty of time to turn into a star.

* * *

Bobby Roode has truly been a "Glorious" champion in NXT. I've watched Roode since his Impact Wrestling days in 2004, became a huge fan of his around 2008, and he's another guy that I've enjoyed being able to see enjoy the fruits of his labors.

I feel that he will ultimately lose the championship to Roderick Strong, as that seems to be the long-term direction, but I see only good things in the future for Roode.

Sunday, May 28, 2017

#NationalHamburgerDay


It wouldn't be #NationalHamburgerDay without the funniest hamburger-related joke in the history of The Simpsons. Yes, the hilarious "Steamed Hams" segment from the 1996 episode "22 Short Films About Springfield." It takes a look at the other residents of the town outside of the Simpsons family. What's unique is that a majority of the shorts about the townspeople are all connected in some way.

The relationship between Principal Skinner and Superintendent Chalmers has always been a contentious one. Skinner is a bumbling dope trying to run his school and Chalmers is the strict authoritarian who is not amused by anything. Skinner invites Chalmers over for dinner, and as they say... hilarity ensues. And it involves hamburgers, hence the mention on #NationalHamburgerDay.

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Norm Macdonald Clip of the Week: Netflix special


Norm Macdonald is the latest comedian to have an original stand up comedy special on Netflix. Above is the trailer. He tells his joke about the irregularity about the abbreviation of "ID" for identification.

I haven't had a chance to check it out yet, but a lot of people have been tweeting @normmacdonald about it, and he's been sharing a lot of the compliments he's received.

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Unpublished PNC article: Trump lawsuit

Recently on Facebook, I posted an article from the Washington Post about constituents of Congressman Bob Goodlatte being angry at him for his lack of visits to the areas he represents. I posted it because I had been a reporter at the Page News and Courier in part of Goodlatte's district -- Page County -- and I had firsthand knowledge of that anger, and I had previously suggested it as a story idea for the PNC.




The reason why I had that firsthand knowledge was after meeting with a lady in Page County who had been planning a lawsuit against the Trump administration. Here's the short story: I spoke with her, went and interviewed her, wrote an article about her, then it all fell apart and we never printed the article.

Note: I'm not mentioning her name in any of this. She asked for anonymity after the fact. From a journalistic standpoint, I don't have to give her that. She gave me information in an on-the-record interview and I have every right to print everything she said. But, I'm not for two reasons: 1) She mentioned that all of this publicity was causing issues with her son getting bullied in school and 2) She is "out there" to put it nicely and her ideas don't need any more publicity. 

There was the short story. Here's the long story:

In early February of 2017, I was told by my editor, Randy, that he had received an email from a lady saying she was planning a lawsuit against the Trump administration. She lived in Page County. He forwarded me the email and told me to check into it -- see if she was credible and had something worth looking into.

The basis for her lawsuit was kind of a stretch, but I could see where she was going with it. It all started with the Trump administration's first attempt at the "Muslim Ban" legislation. An article in Politico noted that the Trump admin used members of the House Judiciary Committee to help craft the legislation. The members then signed a nondisclosure agreement saying that they would not talk about their work with the ban. The chairman of the House Judiciary Committee is Bob Goodlatte, the Congressman for Virginia's 6th District. The 6th District includes Page County, where that lady lives. She was basing her suit on the fact that Goodlatte cannot answer certain questions about the Muslim Ban because his committee members signed those NDA's and he cannot properly serve as her congressman because of that.

Here is a copy of the email. It's actually written to the writers of the Politico article, but she forwarded it to us like that. I made a few highlights and wrote some notes on there.

So, I read that and tried to figure things out. Then I called and talked to her for a few minutes one Friday afternoon. She was very happy that a media representative was reaching out to her and very eager to talk to me. We agreed to meet on Monday morning during Congressman Goodlatte's "Open House" event at the Luray Town Office. 

A couple times a month, Congressman Goodlatte has a representative from his office show up in Luray and take questions and concerns from residents. Goodlatte never shows up to these. It's never a big deal and nobody ever goes. The way she was talking about it, she was implying that Goodlatte was going to be there. So, I figured that would be interesting.

Monday comes and I show up outside the town office, where we agreed to meet. I sit outside for about 15 minutes before I walk inside and find her already at the meeting. Oddly enough, there are like 20 people there. Of course, Bob Goodlatte is not there. It's a representative from his office, who seems very overwhelmed with the amount of angry people there.

She repeatedly tells them that she cannot answer any questions, nor can she speak for Goodlatte. All she was sent there to do was to take down questions and concerns and she will bring them to Goodlatte. The people there are asking when Goodlatte will make an appearance in Luray. She keeps sending them to his Facebook and website for his list of upcoming events. That's not enough for them. The lady I'm there to meet says that the group needs to decide on a date and if Goodlatte isn't there by then, they will go to his office and protest. Another lady randomly says March 15 -- aka the "Ides Of March" -- and that becomes the official "protest date."

At one point, I noticed an older couple got up and left. Shortly after, the police chief Bow Cook came into the room. He's very personable, and a cool guy, but I noticed his hello wasn't as "friendly" this time and he was acting a little differently. He was "being a cop." Those people who left had gone and said something about the "hostile environment" in there or something.

After the meeting is over, I try to speak to the representative. She won't comment on the record, but directs me to Beth Breeding, Goodlatte's director of communications, or whatever her official title is. I'm very familiar with her, as I get her weekly "Here's what Goodlatte has done lately" PR emails, and I've occasionally talked to her.

The group of 20 has narrowed down to about 10 and they walk across the street to Gathering Grounds, the coffee shop, as the lady wants to talk to them about possibly joining this lawsuit. I come with them. As I sit down, a couple of the people in the group take a few minutes to chastise me for an error I made in a recent article, then complain about every other problem they have with the Page News and Courier.

Some of the people there are wary to speak, since the reporter for the newspaper is sitting there. The lady who brought everybody there is very adamant that I should be a part of this. Since Trump was anti-press, she wanted to be super pro-press. They were hesitant to go on the record and speak and a couple were worried about what they had already said.

To explain what was going on, and to help them relax about everything, I said "Everything we've said before is officially off the record." I pulled out my voice recorder. "I'm going to sit this here and turn it on and ask some questions. Everything during that time will be on the record, and whoever wants to speak can."

That lady was the only one who answered any questions. I took all that information and walked back to my office. The newspaper came out every Wednesday, and the deadline for the article was Tuesday, late afternoon or early evening. It was presently Monday afternoon.

I reached out to Beth Breeding, to see if Goodlatte had any comments about the lawsuit or anything that had happened at the open house meeting earlier. Then I began sifting through all of the content I had and making sense of what she said and what was happening.

Randy and I had initially thought she had already filed the lawsuit. Once I found out it was still in the planning stages, the article went from "This is happening" to "Let's talk about what could possibly happen." It was no longer as important, but still something interesting that the residents of Page County should know about.

Here's the article. I blacked out every reference to her name.


I spent most of Monday afternoon and night working on that. It wasn't much and didn't say a whole lot in terms of what was really happening, but during the writing process I realized there wasn't really a whole lot to say.

The whole point of the article was basically "Lady thinks she can sue Trump administration, talks to a group of people about it."

By early Tuesday afternoon, I was basically done with that article and working on the other things I had for that week's paper. Randy calls me and asks if I've seen the email that lady sent both of us. He tells me to take a minute and read it, then come into his office and we're going to talk about it.

Here's the email:

I spent most of my Monday talking to her and writing about her, then she emails us to say that it turns out she can't file that lawsuit she was talking about, and she doesn't want to have her name in the article.

He was reading over my article, since he hadn't seen it yet. And, I was going over this email again. We were both stumped by this lady. She was so intense about getting all of this started and wanted all of this publicity, then within a day she no longer wanted anything to do with it.

I was taking notes on the paper about what we were going to do. We initially talked about holding the article for one week, but then decided to use the term "permanently on hold" and he wanted me to make sure when I talked to her to emphasize that if we chose to run the article that we would not do so anonymously.

I called her and left a voicemail. She called me back. She was cool with the not being anonymous part, since I made sure to emphasize the "permanently on hold" part. 

We had our weekly staff meeting that Wednesday and talked more about the article. That's when we decided that we were never going to run it, because there was nothing there and it wasn't worth looking into further.

A couple weeks later, I had noticed the national trend of Republican elected officials skipping town hall events and their constituents getting upset with it. That was happening here in the 6th district. While some of those people weren't on board with that attempt at a lawsuit, they were all angry that Goodlatte wasn't showing up.

I suggested doing that as an article. I was told no. I was trying to explain that it was a national trend and this was our local tie to it. I think the thought in the room was that it would involve that lady again, and we wanted nothing to do with her.

So, the Page News and Courier didn't get to write about Goodlatte not showing up to the 6th District in February. The Washington Post wrote about it in April. 

But yeah, that was an interesting couple days with an interesting lady. I have one other "never published" Page News and Courier article. It's not as interesting of a story, but maybe I'll tell it one day.

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Two months in Charleston


May 2 is the start of the 2nd month that I've worked at the Charleston Gazette-Mail newspaper. I'm still the lowest person on the totem pole there and I feel out of place 95 percent of the time, but I'm getting closer to fitting in. My assessment of my work there so far: I'm not a master of anything, but I'm getting pretty good at the stuff I do. If anybody reads the Dear Abby page of the paper each day... you've seen my work.

Navigating things is different in Charleston. It's different from what I've always known. I lived in Princeton, WV for 15 years and Luray, VA for 16 months. They were both so small that I knew where things were, but I couldn't navigate the street names. Here, I don't know where anything is, but I know the main streets in Charleston. I go to the street I need, then walk up and down it until I find what I need.

I'm trying not to use Google Maps as much. I want to make sure I actually know where things are, and that I'm not just looking at a screen telling me to turn left and right.

I don't drive much in Charleston. I'm doing a lot more walking. Which reminds me that I hate walking. But, it's a necessary evil. And, it could even wind up being healthy for me.

For those wondering, I think my next trip to Luray will potentially be sometime in the next two months. Luray does the "Summer Concert Series" things, and I've been talking to a few friends in the area, and that seems like a decent time to head out. That way, I don't have to make a lot of plans to see people -- most of them will all be in one area, and I can mingle and catch up without having to make a huge effort.

That's still in the planning stages. I'll make more of an official announcement once things come closer to fruition.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Pizza Blog: Why are we still using fax machines?

An inmate at the Southern Regional Jail, in Beaver WV, killed himself in his cell on April 13. According to a report by the Charleston Gazette-Mail, he was supposed to be released one day earlier, April 12. Why, then, was he still in jail? Apparently the fax that was to signal his release didn't go through.

The fax to signal his release didn't go through.

One more time, in case the people in the back didn't hear.

The fax to signal his release didn't go through.

Fax.

The fax didn't go through.

A fax machine.

The year is 2017, by the way. And, we're using fax machines.

For those who don't know, a fax machine is basically an email without a computer. A contraption is set up next to a phone line. You put the paper in there that you want somebody else to see. The phone line sends a signal to space, that signal goes back to the other person and they get their document.

It was very popular in the late 80s and into the 90s, before high-speed internet became a thing over the last decade-plus. Anyway, I'm sure you can do a quick Google search for the rise and fall of the fax machine.

Except... there's still a large majority of people in the business world who still use fax machines. These West Virginia jail people still use it. When I was a reporter in Luray, Virginia, I inquired about a document via email. The response said "We faxed it to you." I didn't even know where the fax machine in the building was. Luckily, somebody had sat it on my desk the next day.

2017 isn't the first time I thought that fax was an outdated technology. Why, that brings me back to my days as a member of Pizza Hut management...

In 2011, there had been a shakeup in Pizza Hut management. The 2010 happy-go-lucky story of friends Bob, Mark, Chris, and Robbie running the Pizza Hut together was in for a rude awakening as Bob was out in early 2011 and we were left with Mark in charge, Chris (me, btw) trying to hold it all together as the longest-tenured employee who wasn't the 15-year server, and Robbie doing his part. All of that is a good story, and fodder for a future #PizzaBlog one day.

So, 2011 was filled with three men doing the job of four. We were all in a constant state of exhaustion. The Pizza Hut corporate management didn't care - they were happy that they didn't have to pay a fourth manager. Profits were good, the "numbers" were being reached, and they didn't have any issues with us. Again, another future #PizzaBlog, as all three of us were gone by the end of the year.

That's the state we were living in. One of our more confusing days was when our fax machine was installed. We had a Pizza Hut computer system and an email program, which really wasn't utilized that much. We had to fax documents to the old men telling us how to do our jobs. We didn't have a fax machine for the longest time, so once a week or so we would have to go to this printing place in town and fax things.

An inefficient and obsolete method made further inefficient by the fact that the manager had to drive down the street and pay 25 cents per page, when he could have sat at the computer in the back and attach a document to an email.

Two Pizza Hut fax machine stories come to mind, one professional and one personal.

We needed to order more uniforms for the employees. Mark delegated the task of filling out the forms to me. It was basically a shopping catalog full of Pizza Hut stuff. You could order from like 10 varieties of uniforms, a couple styles of hats, aprons, those bags the delivery driver puts your pizza in, etc. 

We didn't really have that many options - we were told the cooks wear this specific uniform, and the managers can do this one or that one. I asked Mark if me, him, and Robbie could get this specific one I thought was cool. He said no, that his bosses wouldn't like it. 

What I've learned in life is that it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. So, I checked the box for the uniforms that I wanted - that we weren't supposed to have - and the other ones we were supposed to get.

I gave it to Mark the next day to fax, since I didn't know how to use the fax machine, and if we're being honest, he really didn't either. He sent it. We waited for the confirmation. It didn't go through. He got the original sheet and looked at it again, at which point he noticed the improper uniforms and changed the order.

Around the same time, I had a court matter. A minor traffic ticket turned into a big deal and I ultimately do a bunch of stuff before it was ultimately dropped. One thing I had to do to finalize it all was fax a paper to the DMV. I went to Pizza Hut on my day off and used their fax machine to send the document. It took a while, since I wasn't really sure what I was doing. After a few tries, a piece of paper printed out that looked like a confirmation sheet. I went home.

About a month later, I'm driving on Stafford Drive in Princeton, which is sort of the main street in the area. I had just gotten some food from Sheetz and was preparing for a long night. I had an essay to write for a college class.

Not knowing a lot about how these things work, I looked in my rear view mirror and thought "That's odd, that cop is following me really closely." Then he turned his lights on and pulled me over.

"Do you know what the speed limit is on this street?"

At that moment, I realized I had no idea and told him so. I had been speeding and didn't realize it. He was cool and accepted that. He took my license and walked back to his car. He came back a couple minutes later.

"Do you know your license is revoked?"

To make a super long story slightly less long, the fax didn't go through. So, the DMV never got confirmation that my minor issue was fixed, and as such, my license was revoked without my realization.

He was understanding and told me I could call somebody for a ride home. I called my mom. She drove over a couple minutes later, and parked at the opposite end of the parking lot the cop and I were sitting in. My phone rang.

Mom: "Where are you at? I don't see you?"

Me: "Look to your right. Do you see the police lights?"

I still don't know how she missed that. She gave me a ride home and told me that tomorrow she would come get me and we would go get all of that fixed. I waited a couple minutes until she was gone, then I made the 20-minute walk back to my car and discreetly drove it home. Then I sent that fax the next day again and made sure it went through.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

The slowest day at Pizza Hut ever

Spring 2009. I'm a 22-year-old 5th year senior at Concord University. I have long hair, which is usually in a bun because I'm too lazy to really have long hair. I had been working at Pizza Hut off and on since 2005. At this point, I'm working during the school year, on Saturday and Sunday, the opening shift - 9:30 until 4-ish.

It's about a half hour drive from Concord to Pizza Hut. I live my life in a perpetual daze, especially when I have to get up early. So, it's around 9:15 a.m. and I'm driving to Pizza Hut one Sunday morning. I pass a church and notice it's packed. I pass another one, and notice the same. And, so on. So on, and so on. There are a lot of churches in Princeton.

By the sixth overflow church parking lot, I realize that it's Easter Sunday. That's never been a holiday that's meant much to me, so I never really celebrated it. 

When I was younger, we would do the egg hunt stuff at my grandpa's house. Me and my two cousins would color eggs the night before. I both liked and hated it; I enjoyed the creativity of it, but hated the smell because vinegar was involved in the coloring process. This was back before Google, so I couldn't search "Ways to color eggs that don't smell like absolute shit," so I just had to take my grandpa's word that it was the best way. 

I show up to work and it's the first time I'm working with Tommy, the new manager. He had been a delivery driver for the longest time before. He was a huge stoner and really didn't know what he was doing. I was still 6 months away from becoming a manager myself, but just from being around it, I had an idea of how things worked, so I helped him do his opening stuff; counting money and computer work and whatnot.

Sunday was always a busy day. It was the only time during the weekend that there was a buffet. And, it was very popular with the church crowd. We wondered to ourselves how the holiday would affect things. There was a possibility that it would make things a lot busier - there are more people at church today, so more people could come to the buffet. Or, it could go a little slower - it's a special day, so maybe some of those people have other plans.

Pizza Hut opens at 11, and the buffet starts at 12. The server shows up at 10, and delivery driver shows up at 11. And, usually right when we open there are a couple orders immediately. By the time the buffet starts, there are usually 10 orders. A busy buffet shift could see 40 tables in a 90-minute span. For a small Sunday crew, that's an overwhelming, hate-yourself-during-it shift.

How did Easter affect us in 2009?

We did not have a single order until 2:30! TWO THIRTY! THREE HOURS AND THIRTY MINUTES AFTER WE OPENED! 

What were those church people doing? Who knows... they certainly weren't eating pizza.

Interesting note: Tommy didn't stick around long after that. One day his till came up $50 short. When questioned about it - not even in an accusatory manner - he got defensive and quit on the spot.

Saturday, April 15, 2017

Newspaper Awards


I'm still getting settled into my new life in Charleston. Before I started working at the newspaper here, I had only ever been to the mall or the hospital in Charleston. I still don't know where a lot of things are, but I'm slowly learning and finding my way around.

One of the reporters at the newspaper won a Pulitzer Prize recently for his investigation into over-prescription of pills in the state. That's so crazy to fathom. It is the first for the Charleston Gazette-Mail, and only the 2nd West Virginia newspaper to receive a Pulitzer. That was in 1976 and had something to do with school textbooks. 

I haven't asked around, but one would assume that the 1976 Pulitzer winner is deceased. I feel like there would be a comment from him or a feature looking back at his work, or something to commemorate his moment in relation to this moment. 

* * *

While on a much, much, much smaller scale, I can also say that I am now an award-winning journalist. I picked up a couple 2nd place certificates at the Virginia Press Association awards ceremony for my work with the Page News and Courier.

Feels good to be rewarded in some fashion for my work there. I had a mostly-good 16-month run at the PNC. The PNC also won something called "Grand Sweepstakes." That basically means we did a really good job overall.

* * *

I don't miss the Page News and Courier at all. Some people have asked me about that recently. I had decided in January that it was time to move on, and I did that. It was no longer a beneficial position for me to have, so I looked for one that was.

It was time to move to a bigger challenge, and I did that.