#4 Restaurant Depot
This is a multi-edition short story series about a teenage boy who works for a food truck that traverses New Jersey summer after summer. Ryan is a 17 year old who works for Food Wagon LLC, a traveling food truck run by Eli, a 40 year old entrepreneur.
Every great Food Wagon sandwich, every great Food Wagon salad, every great Food Wagon truffle fry begins its journey with Eli at the store. Ingredients are sourced not just from the regular grocery store, but from the megaplex that is Restaurant Depot. Before every day at the beach with the truck and before every run to a party with the trailer, the crew must make their pilgrimage to Restaurant Depot. The membership only, buy in bulk grocer is located in Neptune and has served restaurantors and the like for years.
In the car Ryan, Tip, Smokie, and Eli, were stacked into the GMC towing the trailer. The crew was going to split up, leaving Tip and Ryan at the beach and Eli and Smokie to a private event. In the parking lot the crew prepared for battle, the store was often crowded and it was full of distractions that could drag someone’s trip out longer than it needed to be.
They grabbed two carts and planned on splitting into teams in order to get everything done, one of the carts always had a bum wheel and this time there was no exception. So, you would push it and it would try to jerk left or right and make you hit an innocent old woman or knock over a pallet of Coca-Cola can boxes. Eli’s list of items he was interested in buying was either drawn up on butcher paper, or on the back of an envelope. Sometimes, though, the list was just in his head and it changed as the time in the store went by.
“Alright, how many buns do we need?” Eli said to everyone.
They were stopped at the initial display once you entered the store where there are about 10 metal racks with different types of bread. Eli was referring to hamburger and hotdog buns. His preferred brand is Martin’s and if not those, then store brand.
“Umm, maybe like 10 bags” Tip said.
“Let’s do 8, 8 hamburger, 7 hotdog, do I need white bread? Should I have stopped at Costco….” Eli was not really asking anyone but himself.
“Ok, here”. Tip passed the many bags of breads into the cart.
Restaurant Depot carts were very similar to hotel luggage carts, they had a long bottom shelf about 6 inches off the ground and a long top shelf separated by 3 and half feet from the bottom. The carts were all blue with brass colored wheels. The one cart they were using had a front left wheel that was sideways and made the cart want to go left, so the driver (Ryan) had to apply some resistance to it.
“Let’s go look at the frying oil” Eli led the group with him, they had not exactly achieved the splitting up goal yet.
The selection of oils for such a comprehensive store kind of seemed minimal.
“Oof, the price of this oil, it went up again.” Eli put his hand on his head and had a grin on his face.
“Yeah, it just keeps going up” a woman standing with a buff looking man spoke up.
“Yes it does.” Eli agreed.
“I am so angry.” Buff man said in a semi-intimidating tone. “If it keeps going up” he did not continue.
“If it keeps going up, I don’t know what I will do.” Eli finished his own version of it for him. “It is a lot for a 5 gallon jug like this” Ryan tried to make sense with his oil talk, muscles and the woman began to move on.
“It is not just this, it is lobster, fries, pork, beef,.......” Eli listed many random foods that he had noticed price increases in over the past year. Ryan just nodded in surprise with him.”
Every now and then someone with their cart would pass you while you were standing and looking at something in the store, usually they wpuld narrowly miss running your foot over or nailing you in the back. Why don’t they give some space?!
“Just get one.” Eli told Ryan with a tempered voice.
“One” Ryan knew the answer, but his forms of interaction included asking unnecessary questions.
“Yes” Eli answered.
Ryan hoisted the jug into the cart. Lifting things was becoming easier and easier for Ryan because of his recent and frequent visits to the gym. Ryan was hoping to build out that “Summer Bod” that is required to work at the beaches. Ryan actually, believe it or not, moved up a shirt size because of his compounding muscle mass.
“Drinks, drinks, what kind of drinks do we need?” On to the next stop for Eli.
“Umm, some Pellis (San Pelligrino Seltzer, Smokie just likes to abbreviate things to make them sound more Cali style), I think we need more Coke, some Sprites.” Smokie gave off his list of the thirst quenching concoctions Food Wagon would need.
“We need water too.” Eli got to the end of the aisle where pallets of cases of tasty Poland Spring water lay on display. He bear-hugged-picked-up a case and let it semi-toss onto the bottom shelf of the cart, then he did another hug and drop of another case. For some reason, the drink stop was one of the more fast paced events of trips to Restaurant Depot, even though the containers could be easily damaged.
“Waxies and Boats” Smokie was ready to move on.
Boats are the paperboard trays to-go food is served in. Waxis are the wax paper that usually cushions and tidies up the tray, going between the paperboard tray itself and the food. Smokie Slang conceals the product’s purpose sometimes. These supplies are used for every single order and are expended very quickly and run out very quickly.
“Oh, yes we need those.” Eli said real quick like he had to get it now.
“How many boxes?” Tip began walking to the aisle.
“Get like 1 large, 2 small of both things.” Eli told him.
“Fries.” Eli started moving again.
For some reason the store was not laid out in a cart friendly way. In theory, there is enough room, but that is if you subtract people and displays from the aisles. So, you had near misses of hitting someone's cart with your own as you passed by. As they made their way to get the fries Ryan had to fight the cart’s urge to swerve left. Getting to the fries, which were in freezers in a wall behind two rows of pallet displays, was hard. Ryan usually brought the cart all the way, which blocked the aisle and was a tight fit. Eli retrieved two big boxes of ‘shoestring” french fries and waved Ryan to move back out.
“Gloves.” Eli just remembered.
Tip was back with the waxies and boats, and turned around to get gloves. Eli began walking towards the fruits and vegetables, sorting through cases of tomatoes, trying to see which batch was the least rotten. The section had some fruit flies and smelled bad often. Every box had at least one tomato that was past its prime. Ryan tried not to gag at the sight and smell, and refrained from touching the tomatoes to avoid a swishy, nasty surprise. Tip appeared in the background with gloves. They all started moving to the refrigerated section of the store. Kept there were meats, more delicate vegetables and fruits, dairy products, seafood, and desserts. The divider between those two sections of the store were huge plastic flaps that went from ceiling to floor and broke when you walked into them. The person in front of you should hold them back, because, if they don’t, you get slapped in the face with a germy flap. Also upon entering, you get acquainted with the lift operator. In Restaurant Depot, if the forklift comes by, WATCH OUT! They fly at max forklift speed with some type of load in front. With huge, wide turns they went around the store delivering whatever they needed delivered. Ryan usually put himself in some awkward position that caused the operator to stop and wait for him to force the cart out of the way.
“Spring mix, ohh, dates. My son loves dates.” Distracted! Eli had found cheap snacks to bring home. “I am getting dates.”
Eli stared at the price and stared at the box of dates and smiled for a little bit and then looked at the cart and put them in. Finally the group was going to divide and conquer. Tip and Smokie went to get cheese and chicken tenders and Ryan and Eli looked at the meat.
“I need a box of beef, they are down this way,” Eli led Ryan past all the fruit and vegetables and to an aisle with big brown boxes stacked on shelves to the ceiling. It was all boxes of beef from different brands. The two hoisted a box down and over to the cart, it was extraordinarily heavy, full of cow chunks. Next, they went to the hamburger meat section and retrieved two weighty bags of ground beef. The bags were clear and you could see the pink product with blood on the bottom.
“Ok, let’s go find these guys.” Eli pushed on. By the cheeses Smokie could be seen checking the prices and searching for the heaviest feeling chunk to get the best deal for Eli. Smokie was particular like that, like you have read before, he could spend upwards of 10 to 15 minutes squeezing in search of the best avocado. Tip was standing behind him rubbing the back of his head.
Their cart had a few boxes of chicken tenders, bacon, and some cheese.
“We got the tendys” Smokie told Scott with a proud voice.
“Ok, good. Crab meat, I have this gig coming up where they asked for crab cakes, I need crab meat, I hope they have some for a good price.” Eli picked a chunk of cheese up without much thought and put it in Smokie’s cart.
All four of them marched towards the crab and seafood. The forklift whizzed by carrying nothing, the operator liked to ride around all day, even if it was purposeless. Every employee in the refrigerated area had a winter coat on, sometimes with the hoods fastened around their faces as well.
“This guy.” Eli was laughing and looking at Ryan, who was also laughing.
Crab meat, delicious canned crab meat laid before them in all of its aluminum sealed glory. Only one brand, only one size, only one color, only one smell, only one glisten from the shiny metal. Canned crab meat, a Jersey Shore traveler’s heart swoons when that can hits the table. Behind the crab meat was a sad tank filled with even sadder looking lobsters, the top was not capped so water spritzed over the sides and touched your face, oh that salty ocean spritz. Aside the model ocean, was the fishes. Tables of clams, other shellfish, salmon, and flounder were spread out on ice. The corner of the store smelt NASTY!
“I need three cans, ah so expensive, but I need them for this gig.” Eli looked for dents, looked for scratches, looked at the expiration date, licked it (just kidding).
The others looked on as Eli studied the display, eventually he selected three cans and placed them on the top shelf of one of the carts.
“We need plastic to-go containers.” Eli said.
“Yes.” Smokie perked up.
“It would be nice to have them for our salads.” Eli talked with desired interest.
“Yes it would, this is a great idea.” Smokie was excited.
“Let’s go look.” Eli took off.
The container aisle was long and the second to last in the far flung edge of the store. Opened boxes were strewn about, lids and containers were on shelves. People often opened boxes to see what they were actually looking at, small business owners love them samples.
“I need something not too small, and not too big.” Eli’s eyes lit up with the choices.
“Look at these.” Smokie was on container crack or something.
“Yes.” Eli picked up a box, “Too big.”
Smokie’s eyes twitched.
“How about these?” Ryan was pointing at a big pack of medium ones.
“I don’t know.” Eli gave it a glance.
“Look at these down here.” Smokie had his counter offer.
“Or these.” Ryan was back again
THIS WAS WAR
Ryan did not care what container Eli picked, but he liked playing this weird game with Smokie.
“I don’t know.” Eli was somehow getting farther away from a choice.
“Let’s open this” Smokie manhandled a box open, tearing the flaps with a key dagger Eli unleashed from his pocket.
“Ohh, wow, look at these.” Eli was smiling. “Clear tops with a black bottom, that is what I want.”
“Well, these are clear tops with a black bottom.” Smokie was preparing for victory.
“Hey, look at these containers.” Ryan was not out of it yet, this was not the final battle, not the final moments of the war.
“Yeah” Eli put the open box he was holding down and went over to Ryan’s find.
“I like these, lets get these.” Eli was happy.
Ryan kept his victory celebration to himself.
The crew grabbed two boxes, and placed them in the carts. Down the cluttered aisle they traveled.
“Onions.” Eli moved to the two tubs of onions.
Ryan watched Eli observe the tubs for a while, then Eli decided to explain his fixation.
“There are two different types, I want a specific one.” Eli was eyeballing them onions like a teen on SnapChat.
“Ok” Ryan pretended to look, but did not understand what was going on.
Eli picked up a sack, placed it back down, shook another sack, put it down, twirled another with his hands, put it in the bin, it was a vicious cycle of onion indecision.
“What about these?” Ryan tried to help.
“These are good.” Eli grabbed a different bag and walked off.
The Wait -
Lines at Restaurant Depot were almost destined to be long and filled with varying selections of ingredients in carts from the different customers. You could guess by looking at the cart what type of restaurant it was: Lots of soy sauce buckets; Asian Cuisine - Lots of flour and peppers; a Latin restaurant - Flour and sugar only; Bakery.
So, that was about the most interesting part of waiting in line. The group huddled around the two carts that partially blocked the main aisle of the store, people with small boxes and bags squeezed through the breaks in the carts. Eli had his last moments to ponder if he missed anything on his list, and guess what, he did (if you got that question wrong stop reading this and go cry or something because that was a softball buddy).
“Should I grab…………” Eli was there and then he wasn’t.
“Ummmmmmm” Ryan said in concerned thought.
Smokie and Tip were grabbing something else and now Ryan was standing there manning the two carts by himself.
The line moved up a customer and Ryan was just standing and looking at the “Impulse Buy” display; 6ft social distancing stickers, tiny tupperware, knives, “As Seen On TV” goodies, and weird spoons.
To his right came Smokie and Tip.
“Where is Eli?” Smokie asked.
“I don’t know, he said ‘Should I grab’ and then walked away.” Ryan said with a grin.
“That is Eli.” Smokie was laughing.
Foot stomps and sloshing sounds came up behind them, it was Eli carrying another 5 gallon jug of frying oil.
“I got another oil.” Eli let out some breath before telling the group that. “Just in case. Why not? I will need it eventually.”
Eli reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, opening it. The leather accessory had once lived in its glory days, but was now cracked and crumbling. Pulling out his Restaurant Depot membership card, you could see it was worn, still legible, but stained and faded, issued in 2012. The customer in front of them was almost done being checked out. Eli scanned the cart and probably his brain list one more time. The person pulled away and the crew’s two carts moved up. The attendant greeted Eli, and scanned his card, then walked out of the stable and began scanning and counting everything in the compilation. The bill was like $680, nothing crazy or anything. Parting, the attendant and Eli said bye to each other and the group moved onto the receipt checker who counted for a couple seconds and then waved them away and let them leave. Getting out the door and through the parking lot, Eli contemplated how best to get everything to fit into his GMC.
“Now, how are we going to do this?” Eli lifted up his tailgate.
The trunk had manuals, oil bottles, a spare tire, and a mechanic’s lamp in the back, all of which was moved to one side. In earnest, boxes were lifted, small containers were stuffed, packages were stored. It all fit, but blocked out the back windshield and forced the two in the second row to be squished in with some feta cheese packages and bags of bread. But, it was all good, everyone hopped in, and they were off on the road again.
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