Okay, in case you haven’t noticed by now, I tend to overdramatize things at the Gr1llé. Even going so far as to tell the tan-shirts, “A Eruchin, ú-dano i faelas a hyn, an uben tanatha le faelas.” during any lulls we may have. My own perfectionism and obsessive compulsiveness have blossomed into loyalty and dedication. Huh. Who saw that coming?
So imagine my surprise when I see that all but one of the freshmen enlistees who trained alongside me three semesters ago have ditched for other operations or off-campus co-ops. Apparently they failed to see the Gr1llé as I have: more than a place, but an idea. And the idea is to make money.
So I propose my idea for retaining more workers: jargon. Jargon foments acceptance. By speaking our “language”, you are informally initiated into the Gr1llé family. Jargon is catalyst for loyalty and invites one to all manner of even more inclusive inside jokes. 懂了吗? Everyone still with me? Shiny.
Examples:
| “bunker” | The dock freezer, so called because it is sound-proof and explosion resistant with plenty of shrapnel protection. |
| “Code Red” | The entire screen is red, meaning we have a crap ton of orders. |
| “Slammed” | A line out the door (~40 ft), meaning we are priobably about to have a Code Red. |
| “sitrep” | situation report |
| “Black Cauldron” | the large soup kettle in the front wherein we hold tomato soup. |
| Earl | The freezer across from the office where we keep bacon and ham and turkey that has few other distinguishing characteristics. |
| “in the trenches” | back in the kitchen behind the serving window. |
| “Drilling teeth” | making shakes aggressively/efficiently causing the mixer head to grind the sides of the cup |
| “Slimed” | If you worked the shakes station and got slammed. Originates in that if you make shakes too rapidly, or contour the ice cream scoops just right, the half&half will be propelled up into your face. |
| “The Hammer” | Sunday night mid shift |
| “Defcon 4″ | running out of nachos |
| “SOP” | Standard Operating Protocol |
| “Big Bertha” | The large 40-qt bins of chopped chicken |
| “Front lines” | Wraps and expediting along with register/cleaning tables. |
Nicknames, too. Nicknames foment camaraderie. e.g. “The Reverend”, which is taken by Doug who, despite the name, is ironically neither a clergyman nor a professional wrestler. Audrey is “Coolie”. “Hightower”, “Ro-Ro” and “Luke Skywalker” have been retired. As has “Tank”, whoever the hell he was. The following are open.
The Kid
Flounder
Skipper
Captain
Domino
Trigger
Rabbit
Ice Cream Man
Goose
Badger
Bubbles
Murderface
Quizno
Gandalf
Dino
Dizzy
Meathead
Zippo
Frosty
Sarge
Sideshow
Ender
Wheeler
Fish
Soap
Quailman
Pinky
Twofer
Boomer
This is important now more than ever. It has also come to my attention that many blackshirts are leaving for either graduation or jobs elsewhere. Which leaves the Grille to very few supervisors and supervisors in training. Well. We’re boned.
I was a infiltrator in the hordes of UofI students. With forged papers, I rode the buses, studied in the libraries and sat on the grass. Neal & Peter among others, took turns swiping me into dining courts. Neal also got me hooked on the fruit smoothies from LateNight, the local after-hours food source which every college seems to have. 
Econ is more an annoyance than anything. Thrice weekly lectures are required thanks to daily quizzes, but softened by index card cheatsheets. Weekly homework assignments are frustrating but seldom impossible. It doesn’t cause the brain any pain, but it still is an unwelcome presence. It achieves the level of icepick in the lower back. 
