1300 !!!!!
It feels so good to be paid, to have my own money for the first time in a year. Anyone who says money doesn't matter has never been without it, or has no pride either way they can go fuck themselves.
Speaking of fuck. The restaurant I'm working at is a high volume 300 covers a night kinda place, the trouble is fuckall happens untill 8, then all at once, they start to sit and Sous chef Helen calls out from the pass, "Assume the position!" and the next thing you know you are buried in checks, swearing at the polish food runner who keeps asking for that mixed salad when you are in the middle of starters for tables 901, 903 and 803, all of which have between 10 and 20 people seated and I'm having to do double work because my commis has a hangover and is doing one plate to my five. I scream at him and he looks at me like I've grown a second head. Meantime that scummy fuck from the hot side is sneering because I've fallen behind and he likes to make other peoples buisness his own, so I stop plating, go over to his section, look him in the eyes, "Do you ever shut the fuck up?!" I return to my station and finish my plates as the waiters snigger and point at him, scum of the earth they call him.
I have missed all of it. It's who I am.
It feels so good to be paid, to have my own money for the first time in a year. Anyone who says money doesn't matter has never been without it, or has no pride either way they can go fuck themselves.
Speaking of fuck. The restaurant I'm working at is a high volume 300 covers a night kinda place, the trouble is fuckall happens untill 8, then all at once, they start to sit and Sous chef Helen calls out from the pass, "Assume the position!" and the next thing you know you are buried in checks, swearing at the polish food runner who keeps asking for that mixed salad when you are in the middle of starters for tables 901, 903 and 803, all of which have between 10 and 20 people seated and I'm having to do double work because my commis has a hangover and is doing one plate to my five. I scream at him and he looks at me like I've grown a second head. Meantime that scummy fuck from the hot side is sneering because I've fallen behind and he likes to make other peoples buisness his own, so I stop plating, go over to his section, look him in the eyes, "Do you ever shut the fuck up?!" I return to my station and finish my plates as the waiters snigger and point at him, scum of the earth they call him.
I have missed all of it. It's who I am.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
I'm sure I'll have tons of fun in NYC !