Whoa. A few things happened today. First of all, it hasn't stopped raining for the past few days. Literally. It's no wonder it's so beautiful here! Because of this, there haven't been very many members at the club. We didn't have a single customer yesterday, but today we probably had 8 total. One of them, Mrs. Winegard (really, really, ridiculously wealthy woman in her 30's), asked for an egg whites omelet with tomatoes and mushrooms and Alpine Lace on top. I was already a little annoyed with the whole "egg whites only" situation, but when she said that she wanted us to use Pam instead of oil on the pan -- I got pretty frustrated. It is ferociously hard to flip an omelet as it is. Egg whites are even harder to flip. On top of that, when we can't grease a pan it's HORRIBLE! Then, she kept asking why it was taking so long. Everyone was getting a little tense because everyone knows that she's one of the most demanding members at the club. Anyway, after two attempts (one by Christina and then me), we called in Mike to do it. He was really annoyed too, but pulled it off.
The next intense event of the day was when Amanda (one of the waitresses) cut her hand. She and I were in the kitchen and she came over to me and said, "Hey, could you take the paper off this bandage? I cut my finger.". So, I walked over to where she was and she had a little cut in between we pinky knuckle and on her thumb. No big deal. Anyway, I started to clean it for her because she said she was really squeemish about blood. I put the band-aid on her thumb and started to clean the other cut when I noticed how bad she was shaking. She was looking at the blood and said she was getting really light headed. I got her to sit down and she said, "I'm going to pass out.". I thought she was exaggerating, but right after that, she was gone. Luckily, I caught her head or else it would have hit the pipe that was behind her. I called for someone to get help and then I looked at her. She wasn't breathing and had turned totally purple. A few seconds later, she started shaking but she was breathing again. It was so scary! The paramedics came and she couldn't walk. She looked awful. It's weird to think that something so small made her so sick. I think of all the horrible cuts and burns I've had and how they are common place to me now. The other day, I touched a hot iron with my hand and didn't even think twice about it. It stung, but I'm used to that feeling.
The last event was actually really cool. There is a new guy at work. His name is John Haelson. He is a culinary arts teacher and has worked at BHCC before. He only works two days a week and today was the first time I've worked with him. He is a really nice man. He's probably about 35-40 years old. We started talking and I introduced myself (that I am from Arizona, go to school in Idaho and some other things). After the conversation was over, he left the kitchen for about a half and hour to do something in the main kitchen. When he came back, he said, "Someone just told me that you are Mormon.". I said, "Yes. I am.". He said, "Wow. I've never met a Mormon before. That's really cool.". We talked about it for just a minute and he said, "Well, I've heard that Mormons are wonderful people and that they are really nice.". I said, "That's great to hear. I try to be nice.". Anyway, when I was leaving work, he asked me about my family and I explained to him that I have a large family. He was astounded by the number (11) and talked about his daughters and how much he loved them. I started telling him some things and he said, "I know this is kind of weird, but you have a really great smile. I remember when I first met you I told Chad, 'Wow. That girl's smile just radiates.'. You can tell that you are happy by your smile.". I wanted to yell, "It's because I love the gospel of Jesus Christ! Let me tell you about it!" But I just said, "Thank you. That's very nice of you to say.". It was a nice compliment that will lead to my sharing the gospel with him. I have the English Book of Mormon that I tried to give to Edvan. Maybe it's meant for John . . .
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