Living the Edible Dream

I needed money. That was the primary reason I even considered taking the job. It's the holiday season, I'm in college, and sitting at home doing nothing was getting old after just two days. So when my pal Julie asked if I'd like to work as holiday help at Edible Arrangements, I thought, absolutely. My first day was Monday. I was told only two things: bring a sweatshirt because I'd be working inside a gigantic refrigerator, and that they'd pay me ten dollars an hour off the books. Sounded good to me. Plus, does it get much better than fruit dipped in chocolate in a familiar flower arrangement? Nope.

I began my first day skewering Strawberries. Well, first I'd wash them, then pick out all the duds, and then skewer them. After a few hours of that I was promoted to skinning melons and cantelopes. I know what your thinking, how do I get a job there? It gets better though. By noon I was doing so well, they let me work one of the "slicing mechanisms." This included use a machete to chop the melons in half, and spooning out the seeds. Afterward, I'd place the halves into the slicer and pull the lever downward using both arms. Just a few chops and pulls later, it was clear I had found my niche in the kitchen.


Now there were a fair share of downfalls at Edibles. First, my shift was 12 hours. This is a long day. Especially considering I never left about a six foot radius. Imagine standing in front of your kitchen sink for 12 hours. That's it. That's what I did. My back is still feeling it. Which brings me to my second point...lack of seating. Or not so much lack of, but total absence of. There were no chairs, or stools, or even inademate objects that one could pretend was a seat. My friend michelle who was also on the holiday help team did try to make an empty cantelope box a nifty chair, but the cardboard gave out faster than she could say "cantelope." The truth was though, there wasn't even much time to think about sitting, because we were always working. Always. For 12 hours. Our lunch break was 15 minutes. Fifteen minutes of leaning, because that was how good it was going to get. Thankfully, lunch was paid for by the company. Which sounds good, but is essentially just their way of not letting you escape the premesis long enough to find a seat.

To make it through each day, I was forced to find entertainment in what was around me. My first day that entertainment came in the form of James and Maria's love saga. Never have I experienced two individuals flirt with one another so obviously and from opposite ends of a room. She was dipping apples into chocolate in the back and he was designing baskets in the front. Yet somewhere in the air between them was a raw sexual magnetism that made crossing the room to wash my melons quite awkward. She giggled about being pregant with his child, he ate one of her berries...their material was priceless. Other spectacles included a 70 year old man showing up with a convertible filled with pineapples and watching my friend Michelle have a psychological breakdown after squishing one too many heads of lettuce into a basket. You can't script these storylines.

After just two days of work, it was time to retire. I did have the option to come in on Christmas Eve, but for some reason I was able to find 1000 reasons not to, starting with my back pain and injured left wrist. I will always remember my time there. Years from now, if I'm ever a a well known American figure and Conan or Ellen Degenerous ask me about my most memorable job experience I will most likely refer back to the 48 hours I spent in that refrigerator. I don't know if I can beat Madonna's stint at Dunkin Donuts in Manhattan or Brad Pitt in a chicken suit at a fast food joint in LA, but turning cantelopes and honey dew into flower petals is something to be proud of. Edible magic in fact.