For the safety of my job, I have decided to take the full name of the restaurant out of these blogs.

If D---'s ever reads this, I'm sure someone will get fired over the next little story I have to tell you.

At work yesterday, the dishwasher didn't show up. He's a kid about my age, tall, skinny as heck, and he looks about 16. He shuffles around quietly doing his job. Since he wasn't there, the manager on shift called one of the other dishwashers and had him come in for a while. He's probably mid 30s, big guy, football player type. He came to the restaurant and hung around for a while because just after he got there, the dishwasher kid showed up. But anyways. So he walks back into the kitchen and talks to everyone because he's been working there forever, and apparently everyone knows him. I mind my business by the register for a while and I seat a table for one of the servers who is nowhere to be found. So I go searching for her through the kitchen and the back of the restaurant by the back door and the manager's office. I round the corner and there sits the called-in dishwasher, half naked in the middle of the little space back there by the ice machine. He's got his shirt off, his lovely beer belly hanging out, and one of the cooks is buzzing his head. Yes. The cook was giving the dishwasher a hair cut in the back of the kitchen. It wasn't right where they cook the food, but it was within 5 feet of food prep areas and stored food. I didn't say anything, but I had to think that this couldn't be within D----'s food prep regulations. Doesn't it make you feel good to know that your food was made right after the cook buzzed some guy's head?
"You found a hair in your food? You should've seen the guy at the next table over! His pancake was furry!"

So -- if anyone needs a haircut -- apparently the swing shift cook at D----'s is giving them for free in the back room. Walk-ins welcome.