The thing that’s hard to contemplate if you’ve never done it — and even now I can’t imagine how I used to — is looking three and four orders ahead to see what you can do at the same time.

The first ticket up may have three different sandwiches, A, B & C, but the second ticket has two A’s and the third ticket has a B and a C. A & B are both on rye bread and C is on pumpernickel. A & C have turkey, B is veggie, all three have cheddar.

Once you’ve made all of them a few dozen times you don’t have to think much about it. Deal out the bread like a Las Vegas blackjack dealer, slap the mayo and mustard down — oh, one of the B’s is hold the mayo — and start adding toppings with both hands.

I could assemble all seven of those in less time than it would take to describe it all. And in the minute or two they’re under the broiler, I’ve got another five ready to go.

Our menu was the size of a broadsheet newspaper, but cutting it down wouldn’t have made us any faster. We could make sandwiches faster than the grill could cook them.

Add in the loaded nachos, six kinds of salad, two pasta dishes, four kinds of potato skins, 2 soups, mac & cheese … yeah, it got hectic.

Good times … good times …