Kitchen Life: Prologue

Most people think that the Kitchen Life is easy. Maybe they think we don’t do much in the kitchen, or maybe they think their food just magically appears and we are there just to make sure it goes to their table before anyone one else gets their food. While I may not know what goes through people’s minds when they go out to eat, I do know what it’s like being one of the magicians that work the back end. Naturally I’m talking about the kitchen.

Today isn’t like every other day of my some what personal hell. There is no work. I don’t just mean that I have a day off, I’m talking more about needing to seek another kitchen, at least until I find something else that I want to do with my life.

I should really start at the beginning to give you a clearer idea of what my situation is all about.
Yesterday I was supervising while my kitchen manager Frank was busy doing nothing except yelling and sitting in the office. Me being in charge while there is a manager on shift seems to be a running theme in my life. Anyway, somehow I got placed as a trainer as well.

Now as a rule of thumb, any new guy, (or girl) that starts in the kitchen is lovingly referred to as an FNG. These 3 letters stand for Fucking New Guy/Girl. My trainee was no exception. He strolled up to the back door exactly one hour before we opened. I was doing my usual slacking out back when he arrived. I knew we had a new guy coming in, however at this point I had no clue that I was training him. I started a casual conversation.

“So you’re the new guy, eh?” I asked him without really caring all that much.

“Yeah! I’m...”

“First things first. You are the FNG, therefore you don’t have a name yet.” I cut him off.

“Okay. When do I get a name?” He questioned.

“Depends on how fast you learn everything on your station. Anyway, I’m Matt. I’m a supervisor here at the Cheshire. To be brutally honest I absolutely hate my job, and had done almost everything in my power to get fired from this purgatory.” I said. The cynicism was practically dripping from my tongue as the words left my mouth.

“Why do you hate your job?” He asked, trying his hardest to seem concerned.

“Frank. He’s the type of guy who you could picture hitting on the fifteen year old hostesses. Unfortunately he is the only guy our GM thinks is capable of being the KM. But Frank has a weakness.” I replied. The 20 semantics questions game I liked to play the most had begun.

“And what’s his weakness?” He asked. For a moment he reminded me of Piglet from Winnie-The-Pooh.

“Maggie. She is the type of girl who everybody knows. Fake, shallow, and above all, a slut. She would do anything or, anyone for and extra buck or a promotion. Don’t think that I’m being a dick, though. We are great friends. Then there is Shaun. He is what people call accident prone. Every time he got even a scratch he went on worker's comp, the guy spends more time at home getting paid then he does at work. It’s his first day back today.” I explained.

“Wait, how can you and Maggie be friends if you call her down? And why the hell does this Shaun guy still work here?” He questioned.

I sensed his confusion, so I tried to get him on the same page. This always the worst part of this game. Whenever someone gets confused the best thing to do is recap everything you have just said in as few words as possible.

“Because FNG, we are what is known as Lifers. Basically all of us hate it here, but are unwilling to go look for other jobs.” I said.

I hoped he would get the picture, but unfortunately his reply to this was, “I don’t get it.” I thought this would be the optimal time for one of those mottos we all invent in times of tested patience.

“Okay, here’s my motto: Just because your good at something, doesn’t mean that you should be doing it. So in my case, I’m an excellent cook, but it isn’t what I’m suppose to be doing.” Was the best I could come up with.

“And what are you supposed to be doing?” He asked. Goddamn it. Check mate.

“I haven’t figured that out yet.” I replied.

I got up from the milk create on which I was sitting, then began to open the back door. FNG had a look of uncertainty, so I motioned for him to follow me. Down the rabbit hole we went.

When you work in a kitchen, the natural laws of the Universe don’t apply. I think that all kitchen’s, wait... Restaurants in general should have a warning above the front entrance of the building. It would read:

ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO APPLY HERE.

As we walked through the door I did my best to explain the dynamics of how a restaurant works. Mostly through the people I worked with.

“Of course there are some of us who have an unfair advantage. The Foreign guy, Van Couver. He lips off in his own language and doesn’t get in trouble for it. Hey Frank.” I said.

“Yeah, same to you Matt.” Frank grumbled as he entered the office.

“We also have a quasi-superhero Dish Pig, I always try to humor him by letting him think he is fighting a constant battle with his arch nemesis: Melted Cheese and other assorted things that come on dirty dishes.” I continued.

“A super hero dish washer?” FNG asked.

Again he had that Piglet look in his eyes. He was probably wondering to himself what exactly he had signed on for. All he knew was that no good could come from this venture.
“You bet. I almost forgot about Jake.” I stated.

“Who is Jake?” FNG replied.

He looked terrified at the sheer mention of Jake’s name. Maybe it was how I had explained everyone else that made him uneasy about me telling him about yet another person that would seem to any normal sort of person as ‘unredeemable’.

“Jake is my best friend. He quit for a couple of months to try and become a porno superstar. He did all right at first, made a few titles like Gash Gushing for Cum 42, The Milkman Always Cums Twice, and a spoof porn called The Cocksucker's Guide of the Galaxy. He's a pretty good guy, but I think he is actually glad to be back.” I went on.

“Matt, I’m a little scared.” FNG admitted.

“Don’t be, everyone has to start off as the FNG sometime in there life.” I reassured him.