Alright,

*sip*

I’d say it’s the white coat only that can’t be it ‘cause lotsa folks wear white; painters, nurses, doctors, pharmacists, scientists, that guy that develops your film… it ain’t just chefs and bakers that wear white, ya know?

But fer some reason, when ya put on a white jacket, some checked pants, and slap a toque on yer head, tha’s that, man, yer a Servant.   Lower than low, the slimers slimer. *sighs*

You see a Nurse decked out in whites making a mad dash down the hallway, hell-bent on getting’ there with serious purpose in their eyes and no one in their right mind would even Dream of staying that person from their appointed rounds, right?  Professional dude, on a mission, stay away, don’t fuck with them…

Slap a chef into the same scenario and yer average bozo not only doesn’t mind, but actually feels Compelled to fuck with you *rolls eyes*  “excuse me, can you tell me who’s buried in Grants Tomb?”  “pardon me, but is that a phone I see over there in that phone booth?”  “hi, could I get you to stop whatever it is you’re doing and have you personally wipe my ass for me??”

mmmph.

the freeks.

My wife took the car and headed up to Maine last week for a much needed get-a-way.  She also took alla me in-laws with her so I ain’t minding alla that much but it Does mean that me bed has been empty these past nights and I’m back ta takin’ the train ta school.  And there I’ll be, standing on the platform, along with a buncha other bozos, waitin’ fer the train, and sure as shit, every fuckin’ day now, some freek walks up, and out of ALL of us bozos standing there, I’M the one they come up to… and they don’t even ASK, they just snap “what time is it?” or “which train do I take to go to such and such?” and so on… like, I look like a conductor or something?  Gimme a break.  Conductors look like mailmen.  Chefs look like rocket scientists.  Rocket scientists do NOT look like conductors… ergo *shrugs* you do the math.

Most of the time I just tell ‘em what they want to know, but if they’re Really Snooty and Lordly then I Really Tell them, know what I mean? *smirks*  So far this week I’ve sent four people who were firmly convinced that the world revolved around their sphincters and who it was Vitally Important that they Be in Manhattan NOW to Albany *grins*  Express no less.  Go Amtrak!

*sip*

Then there are the non-total strangers… the in-laws, quasi-friends, and semi-casual acquaintances.  These are the folks that know my Name and for some silly reason think that means that they know ME *rolls eyes* These are the folks that actually go beyond merely lagging me and somehow feel it’s their god given right to Expect me to serve them in some way *sighs* I have yet to have a total stranger ask me “when are you going to make ME some tasty comestibles?”  But a lotta the semi-quasi people have asked me that *sighs*

And it’s not like they’re flashin’ green, ya know?  There’s no “here’s fifty bucks, how ‘bout whippin’ me up some culinary delights” nawww, it’s more the “I’m ready. Do me.  Do me Now” kinda attitude.  mmmph.

Maybe they consider that ta be “jokey”, I dunno, *shrugs*  Sending assholes ta Albany is pretty fucking “jokey” too, *smirks* but I’m sure those bozos felt differently about it, ya know?

The first class they have us take here at Culinary is something they call “Food Safety” but in reality is a better title would be “101 ways to effectively and thoroughly poison your customers in the privacy of your own kitchen in ways that can never be traced back to you”

*sip*

Nice class.

I got an “A” in it *smiles*

*sip*

Over the years--

I’ve heard stories about life in prison,,,

I’ve heard stories about life in the military,,,,

I’ve heard stories about life on the sheep camps,,,,

I’ve written stories about life on a rock in Alaska,,,

And I’ve noticed a common theme among alla those:

Don’t Ever Piss Off The Cook.

*grins*

I gotta go
Torbjon