Just Put the Coke Straw Down

While surfing the vast array of restaurant blogs, websites and general bitch sessions, I recently happened upon a 15 page rant about someone I had the misfortune of interacting with years ago to absolutely miserable result. Apparently, if you want to let the world know you hate someone's guts in the business...there is a forum. No names here, but it did inspire me to know so many angry others had suffered through this SOB's mood swings and lack of respect.

Ah yes, I remember it well.

I was pretty new to the world of professional kitchens but I was learning really fast and had made a friend of my Chef/boss at my last position. Since he was a huge force on the scene at that time, he agreed to put his stamp of approval on me and call around for cooking trials in the kitchens of my choice. My mentor if you will. I chose one he didn't really recommend. Something about needing to reprimand the that chef constantly for keeping his right hand inside his shorts while he cooked...it seemed everyone had worked for my mentor at some point. For some reason I persisted and the call was made.

I arrived exactly on time with my knife kit and a pristine set of kitchen whites in a back pack. The manager or waitperson, not sure, looks me over, asks if I'm trying out for a position and hands me a waiter's apron. I explain I'm here to work in the kitchen and am met with the most apologetic glance I have ever seen. "You sure?" she asks. So I'm led to the kitchen and deposited in a chair outside the kitchen office where I wait, and wait, and wait. Finally I get to met the esteemed chef I have so meticulously selected.

Chef "So,(insert famous chef name here) says your gonna be a superstar. Wants me to give you a try. Hope you brought it if you want to work here?"

Walks to a metal table and throws a box of fish on it.

"Butcher these. (Spouts off some weights and vague directions) and don't fuck it up."

At this point the chef leaves for the night. FYI it's Friday afternoon.

I now have the inexplicable pleasure of working with his second in command. A tyrant trained by an egomaniac. This guy has some combination of complexes, none of them good. He informs me that I will be working lead saute station since I am rumored to be all that. At this point, its pretty clear they do not want me to work here but I decide to try my best and just get through the night. Take the high road kind of thing.

As one might expect, midway through the Friday slam, I start to get confused. Not really shocking when you consider that a carnival attendant gets more training to sell cotton candy. The Sous chef throws me off the line and inquires "where I learned to destroy food like that?" This from a guy who had just put a steak into the microwave when the orders were bogging down! Next comes a barrage of insults like "that's why there are no women in this kitchen" or my personal fave, "next time I say jump, you suck my d**k."

The icing on the cake was that I was naive enough to stay to help clean up after this nonsense. The entire crew, except me, filed off the line and got a beer but not before the sous chef brought me a bucket and scrub sponge. What an idiot, I was so young still... I actually did it.

Some time later rumors began to circulate about this property being in financial trouble due to the Chef's habit. I guess employees were jumping like rats from a ship on fire.

And guess who called to see if I still wanted a job?