On Friday night before service really picked up at the restaurant, I was wiping down my counter for the umpteenth time when Tyler called my name quietly. I looked up. He was standing over a piece of tilefish on the plancha, and he just cocked his head, calling me over wordlessly.
Oh my god, I thought. [read more ...]
When Roy pulled me into the walk-in last Friday and began yelling at me, I leaned against the cranberry beans and let my eyes glaze over.
A few minutes earlier, Tobias had sent me to work in the basement prep area while he manned our station during service. Roy was, apparently, extremely displeased with this turn [read more ...]
The first thing you should know about Carl is that he does not like his fake name. “Oh, it’s so lame,” he said upon reading about it. “I know only like, two Carls, and one of them is a gay hairdresser. It is so not cool.” He would prefer his pseudonym to be something more [read more ...]
One of the first things Tobias said directly to me, on our second day of working together, was: “You all call everything ‘guys’ here, don’t you?”
I stopped what I was doing to think about that (Carl glared at me, and I quickly resumed cutting leeks into squares). Did we call everything guys? I guess I [read more ...]
I certainly don’t want to paint an unfair picture of my coworkers, as I’m afraid the last piece might’ve. I am, of course, encountered with an unhealthy amount of skepticism and eye-rolls regarding my abilities, but then again, I make an unhealthy amount of errors on the job. I’ve said it before: as a stage, [read more ...]
Tobias started working at the restaurant two days ago. He comes from within the industry – unlike me, who, my coworkers are convinced, comes straight from a Hello Kitty warehouse. On his second day, we were paired together on the garde manger station for Friday dinner service. It was an intense rush, with two hard [read more ...]
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