By Ricky Rieckert
Dear readers,
I wanted to add some humor and a hands-on life experience to last week’s article, where I talked about The Blue Lantern Restaurant.
In the summer of 1974, and soon going into my sophomore year at East Aurora High School, my brother and I were driving my mom crazy. It was only the end of June and we were getting on her nerves staying home. She said, “Why don’t you guys get a job?”
I had heard from a couple of my neighborhood friends, that The Blue Lantern was hiring, where they worked as dishwashers.
So I figured, since I was the oldest, by one year, I would answer my mom’s prayers, and set her straight. So I jumped on my stingray bike and rode all the way from my house at 727 E. New York Street, which was three houses east of the McDonald’s, there today, at the southeast corner of Union Street, and E. New York Street, to The Blue Lantern Restaurant east of Farnsworth Avenue on E. New York Street. My longest trek away from home, ever.
I arrived for an interview with John Benakis. I asked if I got the job, and he said, he was going to interview more people, for the job, but after their vacation (the Restaurant was closed for the first two weeks of July), he told me that I should be there the third Tuesday at 3 p.m.. Guess I got the job.
I was so thrilled, I raced home to stick it to my mom.
Her response was, “Right….” She didn’t believe me at all!
The day I was going to start, I didn’t want to ride my bike, because I was working from 3 p.m. to 9 p.m., and I didn’t want to ride home in the dark. That morning, I asked my mom for a ride at 2:30 p.m. to work, and she said, “You don’t have a job.”
So at 2:15 p.m. I asked her again, and she replied, “Right….”
I said, “C’mon Mom, I start at 3 p.m. and I don’t want to be late.”
She said, “Go ahead and get in the car.”
So I did, but she didn’t come out to the car. I then went back inside the house and pleaded with her, for a ride.
I finally got her into the car, and she sat there staring at me, waiting for me to tell her I was kidding. After another five minutes of silence, she finally started the car and backed half way out of the drive and she said, “You don’t have a job, do ya?
I replied, “Let’s go.”
She then backed out and drove me to the entrance of the restaurant, still in disbelief.
She asked, “You don’t really have a job, do you?”
I said, “Mom, please be here at 9:15 p.m.” I thanked her, and reached over and hugged her. With tears in her eyes, her first kid, was going to work.
I got out and went into the restaurant where John took me in the kitchen and gave me some choices for supper and said I would be a busboy.
In the kitchen, I looked out and Mom had pulled up by the old drive-up window and sat there for at least 15 minutes, before pulling away. She either was still crying or she was still calling my bluff, that she didn’t believe that I had a job.
My Mom was a great, tough (German) who’s greatness, toughness, and love were some of the many things she taught me as her first child and as a little boy, that had come around full circle, and are still in my life today.
Her son was growing into a man, and Mom, as tough and great as she was, was experiencing that feeling, the same way as I was. I truly miss her.
Well, back to work. I decided on a cheeseburger. John told me to get a ball of hamburger from the plastic container in the fridge. I got a hunk the size of almost a softball and made a patty and put it on a plate and gave it to John. He put it in the broiler and asked how I wanted it done, and I told him medium to medium rare.
John finished it with cheese and a bun. I looked at the 3/4-pound burger, which was too much for me. Worried I would get in trouble for not eating it all, I ate the whole thing, to save my job. My stomach didn’t thank me, though, I was stuffed.
I trained with another busboy and it was nice to have the best waitresses working, which always helped, and they taught me things along the way.
Within the first week, I had succeeded with the job and even the waitresses wanted me, when they worked. John even asked me to work a private funeral for one of his best friend’s daughter, who had passed away.
John gave me $50 cash for working, which I refused, because of the loss to his friends family. He said keep it and thanked me. I felt like a millionaire and he also paid me more money in my check.
I was working on a Sunday, afternoon, and the first customers were these two older women, probably in their 70s.
I brought them ice water in glasses, a bread basket with assorted bread sticks and an eight-inch plate of cubed butter and told them that the waitress would be out shortly.
Within 10 minutes, they called me over and wanted more butter. So I brought over another plate, mind you, each plate had 10 to 12 cubes of fresh butter.
Shortly after they got their meals, I got the call again for another plate of butter, No. 3. One of the busboy’s jobs was to make glass plates of butter ahead of time, and keep them in a fridge in the busboy station.
After awhile, having everything caught-up and no other customers, I looked over at the two women’s table and much to my amazement I saw the one with a round chiffon butter container she brought out of her purse, and saw her scrape the cubes of butter from the plate inside the container and put it back into her purse.
I acted like I didn’t see it.
Within 10 minutes, they called me over, and asked me for even more butter. I told the one woman, to use the butter in the chiffon container in her purse.
Busted! Her face turned red as a tomato and I went away and they never asked me for anything else, even though I still filled their ice water glasses.
Hope you enjoyed. I’ll have more stories next time.
Have a great week!