Last night was a pretty slow night which was much by all concerned in the kitchen – ok, all three of us.
The other line cook is on his two days off which leaves us time to talk freely about him in his absence. Granted there’s not much to say, but for the past several days he’s been bemoaning the fact that his ex-girlfriend had cheated on him many times and how he doesn’t deserve it, blah blah blah.
Well I guess the other night (on one of my days off) he was talking about exacting revenge, which is potentially scary. What are the chances this guy’s in jail right now?
Anyway, as we were discussing all this (which really only took about two minutes), my chef was to my right rolling croquettes, I was portioning out goat cheese, and the sous chef was to my right cutting green beans.
I mentioned that this line cook should be happy that there wasn’t more at stake (like children, a house, etc) when my chef ended the discussion by saying “That’s what she is. She’s a whore. Like you’re a cook, like I’m a chef, that’s her thing, being a whore. That’s what defines her”.
In other news from last night our rush was from about 10:30 to 11, during which the owner of the place stormed out because he had to run a bunch of plates out. I’m dead serious. Apparently he didn’t like having to work hard and didn’t understand that everyone else was busy (the server was busy servicing her tables, the manager was out front dealing with a valet service for another customer, and the bus boy was doing his job, which left the owner to run food).
I wish I had the option to storm out because it got busy. Oh, that’s right. People wouldn’t be able to eat if that happened. Damn.