
Today I had to make Omelets to show at work. This is not a fun thing for me. I get nervous when people watch me do things. I was stressed about this for like a week. For some reason, I always think I do not remember how to make omelets. Then I think that I'll mess up. I get very anxious about this.
I'm a super shy person. My friends wouldn't say so, but I've know them forever.
So I made a few omelets before all the customers arrived, to practice. My first one, not so great. Then real customers showed up, and I got into the hang of things. No major mess ups. I was happy. Then the other guy who was working the station with me decided to leave, because he had better things to do. The next 45 minutes was constant.
Then my boss' boss Paul comes up, and this other guy Mike. Big whigs in my land. I started up Mike's omelet and was trying to change the butane flames that power the stove. The lever that allows you to easily do this was broken. I was able to get the empty can out. The full can I couldn't do. I asked one of the hired help, John to give me a hand. We heard a whooshing sound and then suddenly a huge fireball erupts up into the air. John leaps about 15 feet to the right, knocking over a garbage can. I yank the butane out and the flames stop immeadiately. There was a small fire on the table which Mike put out like a firefighter. Everyone calms down and I finish their omelets. Mike and Paul were actually pretty cool about it. I was super embaressed, though.
As soon as I leave the building my cell phone starts to go off. "What happened...etc." What a nightmare fielding all those calls was.
Later my boss Steve comes up to me. "So you want to tell me what happened?" Luckilly I work with a lot of people who have a good sense of humor. My new nickname is "Fireball."




