Instrument(s)

Drums

Information

Email

DStenkoEl@hotmail.com

Location

Houston, Tx

Occupation

fast-food wizard, drummer

Music That Inspires Me

none entered

Films I'll Watch More Than Once

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About

Hi, my name is Elton D'Stenko, I used to be manager at the Subway restaurant down by Earl's Discount Motors on the corner of Washington and Waugh Dr....that's right, used to be. That job is just a memory now. It started to unravel about a year ago when upper management started giving me a hard time about my attitude. It seems there were some complaints and some people got sick but I didn't have anything to do with it, I swear. Well, before any lawsuits were filed that particular Subway restaurant burned to the ground in a huge inferno that even damaged some of the cars over in Earl's Discount Motors' lot. John Law tried to blame me but I had nothing to do with it and that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

At Subway I was a sandwich artist... Is that classy or what? They made us take a few drawing and art history classes so I know a few things about being an artist... Oh, and I also took art in high school so if you're one of those snobby art-fags that thinks you have to go to art college to be an artist, fuck-you! When I first started I was making all the sandwiches by the book. See, they make you watch this training video three or four times until you know how to make a proper sub and work the bread oven. Then you have to work with a senior sandwich artist to get the hang of working in the shop. I had plenty of restaurant experience so I got a hang of things pretty fast. Sure enough, after two weeks I was promoted to assistant manager! After awhile I started to loosen up and let my creativity run free, after all, I was now officially a sandwich artist. For example, while making a footlong Subway Club on wheat I would throw the meat and cheese inside randomly and put alternating stripes of mustard and mayo on the outside, thus juxtaposing the uniformity of the condiments against the randomness of the meat and cheese. This wasn't just sandwich-making , it was art that made you think!

Once while making a Veggie Delite I made it all sloppy and used toothpicks to cover the outside of the sub with a few pickles, red peppers, olives etc. and called it a "primitive folk veggie" since it reminded me of a sandwich made by some uneducated country moron .The part that I found interesting was that I was educated, so me making an uneducated-styled sandwich seemed awfully clever. The customer almost choked on one of the toothpicks but I didn't let that phase me.

I made a sub where I put all the inner fixings on the outside of the sub. and when the guy asked me to make it a ValueMeal with Nacho chips I ripped the bag open and sprinkled the chips all over his sub, creating a veritable melange of colors and textures. the guy who ordered it wasn't too happy and refused to pay for it, he said it was just a pile of crap. What the fuck? This guy was getting a work of art for cheap and he didn't even appreciate it. I'll bet sandwich collectors in New York City would pay big bucks for a sandwich like this. Like most people, he didn’t understand my work.

Some days I was crippled with self doubt about my own sandwich making skills. I would sit through an entire busy lunch hour shift contemplating my career or dreaming up whimsical sandwich creations while the other workers covered for me. I wondered where my sandwich-making career would take me. I wondered why so many people didn't want to own an original D'Stenko? It's just so damned hard being D'Stenko! With every sandwich I made, my heart and soul was stripped bare for all the world to see. You want to know what made D'Stenko tick?... Study my sandwiches, assholes. Most people just didn't appreciate my sandwich artistry. That's okay though, since most of those poor bastards didn't understand my work. They didn't understand my background, my surroundings or what went on in my head. They didn't understand D'Stenko. I wasn’t just a sandwich artist, I was a fucking sandwich genius!

I didn't just make sandwiches at the restaurant either. At night I would go home to my one room apartment and create sandwiches at a feverish pace. I tried to get the creative juices flowing anyway possible...drugs, alcohol, loud music, whatever...I was creating a lot of valuable art there, some of it was a little too intense for the general public. I was thinking about getting my refrigerator insured in case anything happened to any of those original D'Stenko's I had stored inside it..

My creative bubble burst one afternoon when in a tornado of creativity I nailed a bun to the wall of the restaurant and shot streams of mustard and mayo at it and than flung slices of turkey and ham from five feet away. It was performance art at it's finest. Well some of the meat got on the floor and then I tried to serve it to the customer and she freaked out and called the Department of Health. They gave our store a citation for poor food handling or whatever...and later that week... I cut a finished sub into smaller squares and called it my cubist cold-cut trio. When I served it up to the customer she was all like "What the hell is this?" So, seeing that this woman was a moron and didn't respect my artistic integrity I went ape-shit and tried to make her eat it, Ike Turner-style. Needless to say the authorities didn't like my aggressive approach to sandwich artistry. I was terminated and now I'm awaiting trial on aggravated assault charges.

Luckily I was hired at the McDonald's restaurant on 59 South. McDonald's is way better than Subway! A lot of people think that working in a McDonald's is some kind of a cruel joke. A job where they give you a shitty title like "fry cook" or "burger guy", a job only fit for pimply-faced teenagers, a job you end up with because you weren't good at anything else. No, see, the great thing about McDonald's is that, well, personally I think McDonald's is the greatest place to work at on Earth! Did you know that McDonald's is the largest and best-known global foodservice retailer with more than 26,000 restaurants in over 120 countries? That's a pretty huge deal if you ask me. I'm proud to be part of any organization that is that successful!

I first became involved with McDonald's during my last year of high school. I needed a part-time job to help pay the costs of maintaining a car (an old '85 Buick Skylark wagon). The people I met were great and I had a blast! After high school I could have gone on to normal university with my friends, gone to frat parties, drank beer, dated girls and finally ended up with a useless bachelor's degree. Instead, I got MY degree at McDonald's famous Hamburger University. I went to Ronald McDonald's Hamburger University in Oak Brook, Illinois for a practical education. It was there that I found my true calling. It was there that I learned the inner-workings of the fast food industry from the ground up. I also learned about what can be achieved through dedication, hard work and determination. As a matter of fact, I was the Hamburger University McScholar of the Year back in 1991, so I know what I'm talking about! Some people dream of becoming doctors or lawyers, carpenters or even brain surgeons. I, on the other hand, always dreamed of one day managing my very own McDonald's restaurant. Like a symphony conductor I would orchestrate the daily feeding of hungry rush-hour mobs. There is real satisfaction in that, let me tell you. Nothing makes me happier than knowing that I am somehow partly responsible for keeping this big hungry world moving. When the customers are happy, we are happy. Remember, the smiles are always free! However it seems a lot of people don't respect my chosen profession (not counting music of course). I recently gave a Career Day lecture at the high school auditorium and a bunch of kids in the back snickered and heckled me the entire time...if those kids had any idea how long and hard I worked...oh well. Kids like that just aren't cut-out to work in the food service industry anyway.

Even some of my old friends seem to enjoy mocking my occupation these days. My friend Phil from high school, for example. Phil thinks he's sooo good. You see, Phil graduated from a fancy music school (Julliard or Eastman or something) and now he has a job in the symphony. He just happened to come in the drive-thru window in his shiny new car the other day... just to try and make yours truly jealous, I'll bet. Sure, Phil pretended to make small talk, "Hey man, good to see you again, let's go for beers some time" and all that shit, but I had him all figured out, man. I could smell that condescending attitude from a mile away. Mr. Big-Shot picked the wrong guy to mess with on that day. I just smiled and nodded my head and told him that since he was such a good friend, I would take care of his order personally. Yeah, I took care of his order all right. I made sure that bastard's burger was extra raw and I even think Phil's meat patty may have accidentally spent a little time on the washroom floor before it landed on the bun if you know what I mean. I hope Phil spent most of that evening in the emergency room getting his stomach pumped. Hehehe. Fuck-you Phil.

And those girls from the beauty college next door that come in every day at noon. They remind me of the girls who wouldn't date me in high school. They giggle and laugh at me when they order, as if to say that I'm a loser for still working in the fast food industry...Oh, hey ladies, how about I make sure the deep fryer temperature is set so fucking high that when your French Fries are served, the searing hot oil scalds your precious little mouths! Eat that you snobby little hose-bags.

Same goes for just about everybody in this town who has ever turned me down for a gig or done me wrong . It'll come when they least expect it. Maybe the secret sauce will have an extra secret ingredient. Maybe there won't be a yellow caution sign on the freshly-mopped floor by their table so they slip and crack their skull wide open. Maybe the napkin dispensers will be empty so their faces will be covered with ketchup and mayo and shit when they get to their fancy, high paying society gigs. All I know is, if it's dinnertime, watch out cuz you're in my house now, bitch. I guess people just don't realize how much power I wield in this community, because if they did, they would probably show me a little more respect.

So next time your in my area, and your hungry, and all you can see is the Golden Arches because there's not another restaurant around for ten miles, just remember that I own your ass, you stupid hungry fucking piece of shit.

Oh yeah, I’m available for drum gigs. Call me.

Elton