When I get angry, I cut myself

Well, tonight was the first night that I got to work on the line with Chef Nick. I'm going to admit that when I woke up this morning, I was more than a little nervous. I didn't want to mess up in front of chef, especially since he is the one who decides whether or not I get the job there. I got to work 20 minutes early, put on my apron, and got to work. We didn't expect many people to show since it was labor day, which turned out to be correct. Most of my day was spent cleaning or making Caesar rolls. Chef was out of the kitchen for most of the day working on the Fall menu that we're going to switch too soon, which left me alone for most of the day. I played my music while doing odd jobs around the kitchen, singing along with Starfucker and Asleep in the Sea while straining beef stock.

around 8:30-9:00 we got busy fora while, but not enough to really stop us from cleaning. Near the end of the day chef was talking about a show he watched over the weekend called "Lock up" or something, he told us that it's a show about prisons, and how one of his favorite quotes from the show was "When I get out of prison in 20 years, how am I going to tell my kids that I cut myself when I get angry?!" Chef's response was "Maybe you would tell them why you were in prison for 20 years, and not why you cut yourself, you dumb motherfucker." We all had a jolly guffaw at this remark.

Cleaning went by super fast today, chef showed me how to clean the flat top and the french top, which was useful. I basically did all the cleanup today though. I swept and mopped the floors, I wiped down all the counters, I broke down the line, I took out the trash/recycling/linens and I cleaned the fryer. I finished all the cleanup by myself before we were technically closed for the day. At 10:00pm I left the kitchen, walked into the park across the street, called my sister, and waited for her to pick me up. While I waited in the cool night's air, listening to Danger Doom, and looking out into the water, a strange looking man with a flour in his hair asked me for a cigarette. I told him sorry, and that I didn't smoke, wherein he replied "Dammit" and walked away. This isn't the first time I have been asked for a cigarette, and it got me thinking that maybe I should carry around a pack of Marlboro's, just in case someone asked me for a smoke. I always feel bad when I don't have any cigarettes to give out to people when they ask me for one.

Well, tomorrow I am working with Chef again, but this time I won't be so nervous. Chef told me that we might talk Wednesday about me getting a job there, so we'll see how that goes.

nighty-night.