Harvey's makes a hamburger...a beautiful thing

Week two of gainful employment is now history and the question that suggests itself is "HAVE i ever had a worse job?"

And the answer is, "Yes, that time you tried to learn French by working the late shift in an all-night hamburger joint in Montreal's red light district."

I'm not sure what possessed me, I guess I really did think I was going to enrich my French word power by serving "patates frites" to the Wild Billy's Circus Story of freaks and weirdos who constituted the late night clientele at a Harvey's on St. Catherine.

I knew I was in trouble the night five cops hustled a guy out into the snow and the 16-year-old Quebecois guy on the hamburger grill turned to me with shining eyes and said, "Five police for one guy, dat's not bad, but da record here is EIGHT! EIGHT POLICE FOR ONE GUY!"

I'd just finished four years of university followed by a year of French immersion and the 16-year-olds on the staff were worried about me. They didn't think there was any potential for personal growth for me at Harvey's (it's a Canadian hamburger chain, for those who don't know it). The two of them -- Luc and William -- took me aside one night and earnestly advised me to consider applying at McDonalds where there were "better benefits."

All the hookers who worked our corner (and ALL the hookers worked our corner) would hang out in Harvey's eating the food they'd bought across the street at Burger King. (One of them explained it to me one night, "I don't like the food here but they won't let me sit down in Burger King.") One of my duties as cashier was to regulate access to the bathroom. I had a button under the counter I could press to open the door. One night, I let a very drunk hooker into the bathroom then forgot about her. About 20 minutes later, I buzzed somebody else in and there was an ear-splitting scream and the hooker came storming up to the counter to inform me that she'd been "counting her money" and she didn't appreciate being interrupted and the last cashier that had worked here used to do that to her and she had had to "mess with that girl."

Having no desire to be "messed" with, I promised her it would never happen again. I was ready to promise never to let anyone else into the bathroom. I was ready to let her pee all over the restaurant. I just didn't want my attempt to improve my French to end in a fire-engine-red stiletto heel through my heart.

So yes, I have had worse jobs.