Box Man

Earlier this week, for three days the kitchen was running on one of our two hot water heaters. While one giant water heater is enough to run all the sinks and taps in the building, it cannot handle our industrial sized dishwasher, (who had been loving dubbed Enrique many years before I began working here). So the dish monkeys have been washing the dishes without the aid of Enrique and his wonderful, magical cleansing cycle. All. The dishes. That's over 400 complete sets of cutlery, trays, cups, and bowls at every meal. Don't even get me started on how much I hate oatmeal. This also doesn't factor in the dishes created through food prep and cooking.

Needless to say, the dish monkeys are a little tired. And extremely loopy. One broke down into hysterical laughter for a good minute. Another teared up and hugged EVERYONE when they discovered we were using disposable plates for the one meal.

Last week brought the world "The List". This week, I bring you the next evolution of bored kitchen workers: Box Man.

There's a face on the box, you just can't see it.

A small attempt at moving (Hopping was the only option) left Box Man helpless.

And then Box Man freed his inner child.

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When life takes away your dishwasher, shove a coworker into a box and watch him fall over.

Toodles!