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This is a question Restaurants, Kitchens and Bars... Oh my!

Many years ago, I went out with a chef. Kitchens are merely vice dens with food. You couldn't move for people bonking and snorting coke in the store room. And the things they did with the food...

My personal vice was chocolate mousse - I remember it being very calming in all the chaos around me. I think they put things in it.

Tell us your stories of working in kitchens, bars and the rest of the nightmare that is the catering trade.

(, Fri 21 Jul 2006, 9:58)
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This question is now closed.

Finger-lickin good.
During my college years I worked for a company which sells poultry that is placed in a vat of oil in a style possibly linked with southern parts of america.

During my time there I saw many unhappy customers come and go. One stint involved my Manager and Assistant manager being off sick and I had to rule the roost for a while. One particularly arsey customer decided to whinge and moan in a loud voice about how unhappy he was with his food. It was cold. I went over to see if I could sort him out. He then proceeded to hurl abuse at my forced smiling face.
"ok sir" I simpered through gritted teeth. "I'll get you a nice warm new one"

I went into the kitchen area and told the burger chef the situation. He peered over the partition/warmer and said "that cunt again. ill sort it".

I then left the kitchen only to look back later to see the chef promenading around with the customers burger half stuffed down his pants. He then placed it back on the griddle to warm, then pulled the buns from between his arse cheeks(!) and slapped the burger in between them (after wiping his cock on it).

He then went out and personally delivered the customer's (tasty new) burger. Which he seemed to thoroughly enjoy.

His only comment on leaving.
"too much cheese"

I dont eat stuff from there anymore
(, Wed 26 Jul 2006, 10:39, Reply)
Morality? I'm shocked
I'm a lying, two-faced cheat at the best of times, but ...

To all the dissatisfied chefs and food preparers: if a mechanic buggered up your car on purpose, of if a dentist drilled your teeth just for kicks, or if an irate builder left your house unsafe, or if a teacher taught your kids untruths, or if a traffic warden ticketed you unfairly because they were unhappy with their job ... how would YOU feel?

Would you laugh and say, "Yeah! They really got back at their boss!" Or would you feel righteously shat on?

I'm thinking particularly of the knife roulette story. There's humour, and there's vindictive, thoughtless malice.
(, Wed 26 Jul 2006, 10:25, Reply)
thats not the three second rule... this is
Twotailed fox is right, all the maccy d's stories are true.

the three second rule applied to burgers too when i worked there. and anyone who has worked in a mc'ds knows how grungy the floors get!

there were ALWAYS random unidentifieable items floating in the shake mix.

i knew a guy who cut his finger off with a tomato slicer, and a girl who's arm went into the fat fryer, these aren't urban legends, they happen all the time.
(, Wed 26 Jul 2006, 10:22, Reply)
Burger King Staff 'do
Never worked for 'em, but somehow managed to lig my way into their staff Xmas do, propped up the bar slamming Metaxa and Blue Bols until the £150 'free bar' expired, wheezing heavily.

Vomited in one of the poor Bugger King staff member's pint glass and then got thrown out.

The very cheek of it.
(, Wed 26 Jul 2006, 9:22, Reply)
Fish shop shenanigans
I worked in a fish shop/kebab shop/pizza shop as a delivery guy a few years back, to fund my uni drinking habit. The guy who owned it, and did all the fish and chip frying was a right tight arse. At the end of the night, if there was any battered stuff left in the lightbox heater thing, he would peel the batter off, and keep the thing inside to re-batter an fry the next night! Saw the mucky beggar batter and fry the same jumbo sausage for 4 nights running at one point! Was as black as pitch inside.
Also, when one of the local gangsters put his trooper through the side of the shop while full of coke, ripping the pizza oven off the wall, while talking to the cops the owner made his wife keep serving fish shop stuff. Money grabbing get that he was.
I know it's long. You can afford the time though, you are here after all.
(, Wed 26 Jul 2006, 8:47, Reply)
Not terribly relevant
But interesting insight into the quality of meat served at KFC…
I once worked at a chicken killing factory during summer holidays near Melbourne, Australia. A rather unpleasant experience as a whole, but one incident turned me off chicken completely. My job was to watch the plucked, de-footed, beheaded and machine gutted chickens as they travelled past on hooks.

Of course the machines failed to gut or behead all chickens so my job was to cut the heads off or manually gut those chickens. One chicken was green and about the quarter of the size of the others. I made the incision into it arse with scissors and turning it upside down squeezed out a strange green sludge. Anyway I spewed, and it went straight into the ‘strange bin’ where it would be cut up sent to the nearest kfc.
(we couldnt use gloves either so i had to ripthe warm guts out with a bare hand)
(, Wed 26 Jul 2006, 8:31, Reply)
Fish and chips
I only spent a year working in the local fish and chippery, and generally nothing too horiffic went on as I took a bit of pride in my work with it being my first job and all.

However...upon opening up a new box of frozen fish one day I noticed that the tasty morsel at the top of the box had an interesting pattern on it. I stared in wonder at this ornately decorated fish until a thought occurred. "Bob, lift up your foot" I called out to my boss. Sure enough the pattern on the sole of his Blundstone matched the markings on the fish.
In order to get the lid of the box to close properly, the packer at the plant had obviously stomped on the fish a little to compress them.
We found this marking on the top fish in about 50% of all the boxes we opened. It usually disappears after a few minutes in the deep fryer though. Still, I avoid dodgy chippies anyway.

Pop. Is it supposed to bleed this much?
(, Wed 26 Jul 2006, 8:13, Reply)
A little place down in Kent
McWankalds... "Bob" as we shall call him comes up with the great idea that his friend, "Dave", should piss on a burger.

Dave has a sudden concience attack and suddenly diverts his piss out of the open window (in a 2 story building).

Cue screams of "oh my fucking god!" and "aaah, shit, this is horrible!"

The fun...

Yes, by the way, there really is a 2 story McDonalds, and the kitchen just happened to be topside..
(, Wed 26 Jul 2006, 2:09, Reply)
grot, woo
I've been working in the industry for a while now, and suffice to say i've seen some, how do I put this, interesting things. Complaints about extra protein (a catapillar in a salad, rest assured there was extra protein in there when it went back out!), to women not demanding not to be charged for meals her children had ordered without her knowing.

My favorite has to be though when I was working as the duty manager in a pub with a couple of function rooms. We used to put on "disco nights" ie Dodgy Dave the Dealing DJ, some food that wouldn't look out of place at a tramps wedding, and loads and loads of sad desperate lonely middle aged people. Ocassionally we'd do functions for people leaving 6th form. Great.

To cut a long story short, They didn't realise that we had CCTV EVERYWHERE, including the couple of smaller side rooms, much fun was had copying some of the grot that we witnessed on those tapes, some of it even good enough to sell on to their friends. Hooray for "homemade porn". Oh yeah, and it did entertain the kitchen staff on the extra moniter we had installed "to help us assess if anything needed our attention"

Not sorry for length, you love it.
(, Wed 26 Jul 2006, 1:42, Reply)
I worked
in a KFC when I was sixteen. We had the three second rule.

Everyone's uniforms were too big, so they regularly dipped over into the food before it was served.

And really really don't eat the gravy. It's revolting. It's made from week-old bits of skin out of the bottom of the fryers microwaved with cornflour. You'll never see the staff eating it.

It's better to eat there at busy times, as otherwise when it's quiet the food's been left for up to an hour.

I managed seven months in that hell-hole.

*No cock comments*
(, Wed 26 Jul 2006, 1:08, Reply)
Don't go to Smorgy's
Melbourne Australia, one of their 'establishments' has a rat issue and rather than keep getting the exterminators back they have trained the rats to fulfill minor customer service roles. Vote 1 - Rat Union
(, Wed 26 Jul 2006, 0:46, Reply)
I used to work 1 or 2 nights a week at a local 'alternative'/heavy metal bar in the city i used to live in. I work there every now and then, still, but not as often as i used to.
Aaaaaaaaaaanyhow.. A guy who often came in for a beer, retreated to one of the stalls and didn't come out for at least 15 minutes. As he was occupying the only girls-toilet, i decided to knock on the door.
No reply. After 5 more minutes, i knock again.
Nothing. I get a screwdriver, and turn the lock back to white from the outside and open the door. He had to take a shit (fair enough) but while he was having a go, he had to vomit as well. Result; pants around his ankles, filled with grey/orange pasta-esque vomit. He is asleep. As i shout at him, he wakes up, and sees me standing there. Shocked, he pulls up his pants and makes for the street. I see a big brown turd in the toilet and no paper residue. Guy runs out to the street still pulling up his pants, and wanders off home.
It gets better. The next week, i spoke to his little brother, who told me that he had walked home in his vomit/shit diaper, got home and had tried to go to the toilet to take a piss. Fell asleep again, only to be found by his mother the next morning, after he had been sleeping in a pool of piss for 5 hours, with vomit and shit filled pants still on.

That same guy (couple of years later) walked out in his hoody sweater. His hoody sweater that had been in the bowl of the men's toilet from 10 pm till 3 am.

Oh boy, the memory's of that place.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 23:26, Reply)
Oo another one,
my mate told me this about another pub.
All the staff suddenly began getting really bad sunburn and a few ended up in hospital. The pub was closed for 3 weeks before they worked out why.
The fly zapper (you know that thing with the blue light that kills insects) had been repaired recently, but for some reason the bloke had decided to replace the original light with a UV lamp from a sun bed...youch

*insert length joke*
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 23:01, Reply)
Not funny but true
I have been told loads of weird stuff when working hotels and the like.

One time i got told by this woman all about her miscarriage that she had not told anyone else about.

And the other time i got told by this chef about the threesome's that him and his wife enjoyed, as i was only 16 at the time i did not know whether to be nervous or very excited
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 22:57, Reply)
The local chippy
I worked at the local chipshop during, and just after secondary school. As my boss was the laziest pig in the western hemisphere, he left me to run the shop 95% of the time. This turned out to be pretty cool as he used to make me a list of chores for the next week, and he took off to go to the beach or hang out with his friends and family. As he was lazy, the list of things to do was such that i would have easily finished it (and a lot of other stuff i deemed necessary) around 3 p.m monday, saving some 'work' for tuesday. A friend of mine was unemployed at the time and mostly spent his days either in my shop or in the bar across the street. After some time, we found out that no one was going to find out if we got milkshake cups and filled them with strong beer (think belgian or dutch cousins of Special Brew or Tennents Super)
This more often than not resulted in us downing 10 or 12 pints of this berserker fuel between the 2 of us and thus making me easy money.
Another benefit was that i always knew when lots of money had been lost in the slotmachines, which usually resulted in me calling friends, investing a tenner each and ending up with the big jackpot.
One time i had the sunday off (for the first time in weeks) but guess what, the cunt starts calling me at 10 am sunday morning. Never picked up the phone ofcourse. 20 minutes of ringring later, it finally stopped.
3 minutes later, the doorbell starts ringing. After 5 minutes of ignoring the a-hole, i retreat to my sister's room in the attic (sis and parents were on vacation at the time)to get some welldeserved sleep.
After 10 minutes of ringing the doorbell and flicking twigs and stones at every possible window i finally gave up.
"What do you want?" i shouited through a window.
"i'm off to the beach, you're on till 10 tonight, bye"
Went back to bed, slept till about opening time, closed the shop and went to sleep for another couple of hours in the shop kitchen.
Other guy who worked there once projectilevomited his entire spaggetti-diner up against the wall of the kitchen while the shop was crowded as it was saturdayevening dinertime. That was cool.
By the time the shop finally went bankrupt, the fukcer tried to scam me by not paying my last couple of weeks wages. Unfortunately he was too lazy to even work the last couple of days in his own shop, so i took the till home on my last day of work. He went completely berserk and ran into every bar in the village, only to be laughed at by the locals and landlords who were good friends of mine and ofcourse had heard all my stories about Lazy Boss Deluxe.
I heard he later became assistant manager at Mickey D.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 22:55, Reply)
First Post!
Ive got loads of mildly interesting kitchen stories from working in my local pub, my favourite being the long and animated argument I had with my chefs and bosses that you couldn’t catch aids from camels, even if they are “dirty and spit” (they still don’t believe me)
Oo also just this week 2 polish people came to work with me. Trying to impress them with my worldly knowledge I text my mate to ask her for some polish phrases, unfortunately her reply was “er dunno, ‘magicky’ means ‘gay’ in Russian” which didn’t have quite the required affect. However one of them was very amused by the oddly shaped rolling pin and mimed fwapping with it while giggle insanely.

Its my first time so im sure length is the least of your worries
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 22:52, Reply)
McD's and the Stories: All True.
I have many a story on McShits. Does anyone ever notice their salads are a bit manky? Well, to save food costs, we redate them for 24 hours after the secondary shelf life.

Then, we have the "3 second rule". Toss a bun onto the floor? If it's there less than three seconds, use it. Oh, and I have one particularly nasty story of my own....

Working late on a Friday, we got the late-week Chav Rush. As usual, an obnoxious bunch of wankers walk in, shouting and swearing... and of course, pissing me off in the process. Manager says, "Serve 'em, they'll leave quicker". So, still more swearing later, they ask for a McFlurry. I take the money, and disappear to the side to make up the McFlurry. While they're talking amongst themselves, I carry out my little surprise...

I basically, take my thumb and forefinger, and wipe it on the gap just below the inside of the bridge of my nose, getting a fair bit of gooey residue and then smearing it across both sides of the McFlurry spoon, before mixing it in, stirring it and then serving it with a straight face.

Never piss off a Minimum Wage Worker.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 21:30, Reply)
Neon Blue's Story reminded me...
If you're ever at Wimbledon, and you hear a tannoy for 'The Secretary' to go to a particular area eg. the conservatory buffet...don't go there, it's on fire.

Also, if 'secretary' = 'SP', then 'it's on fire' = 'May explode shortly'
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 20:28, Reply)
KFC was simultaneously my best and worst job
The job was nasty, especially in the kitchen in the summer. Free soda at 100+ fahrenheit makes one naseuous, and grease burns were plentiful.

But as some have noticed, a good kitchen staff makes all the difference, and this was filled with people with a sense of comradeship and some utter loons.
One high school employee was the son of a psychologist, and as with all therapists' kids, was bonkers (do they experiment on their own kids?).
One day he grabbed a handful of ketchup packets, cupped his hands around them, and told the young counter girls that he'd caught one of the mice. He turned to the spoiled daughter of a self-made millionaire (she was slumming by working there) and squeezed fast and tight, making the packets burst and the red squirt through his fingers. The girls, especially this princess, screamed horribly.

He didn't last -- I think he was taken away to a institution after being expelled from school for instigating fights. But I always did like him. He gave me all his George Thoroughgood albums because he figured CDs were the wave of the future.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 20:09, Reply)
mmmm waspy!
At a picnic, my dad once made me a ham sandwich with a wasp in it. I took a bite and it took me a few seconds to realise what the weird texture against my palate was, before I spat out a bemused wasp that was too thankful to be alive to do anything.

Good times.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 19:45, Reply)
aaah, McD's tips
I used to love my job at McD's - it was comfortably one of the best paying jobs I ever had.

McD's always had offers on - employees get cheap food, students get free burgers, that kind of thing. I always worked drive thru - no one else wanted it because you had to enter the order at one end, and someone else served it, making it impossible to rob. See where this is going yet? Yep, nearly every meal I sold was an employee meal (£1.20 off), every cheeseburger/hamburger that was sold with a meal was for a student (60/70p off). Occasionally someone would, ahem, present a £10 voucher (these were never accounted for). This money lived underneath my till until I had enough to swap it for a note, at which point my till would inexplicably be noticed to be a right mess and need a good sorting out. I also found out that the tea stirrers, when bitten in just the right way, work brilliantly as a managers key, so when managers changed over, meaning I could do my own refunds etc when it got quiet.

Overall, I used to pull in about £150 a night on this scam, and never got caught. Student life was good.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 18:20, Reply)
Who says gravy is harmless?
The place I used to work catered for wedding receptions mainly, and we had to be right classy (or at least pretend to be, with silver service and all that Jazz) which meant we served real gravy.

Real gravy has to be kept hot, otherwise it goes all funny. Where I used to work, it was kept in an tea-earn sized vat, which sat on top of an industry sized hob, bubbling away to its self smelling gravyish. It’s all well and good, until you have to serve the bloody stuff.

Now most kitchens tend to have those pushy door thingies (that swing both ways) now for some reason our kitchen had a super heavy one. Cue me walking backward through the door with full boiling hot gravy boats. Couldn’t see the door swinging towards my arm, door connects with arm and relocates boiling gravy all over my hand.

The guests didn’t see, however they did hear a very very loud “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKK” it was the first and last time anyone managed to get an echo in that building.

On a side note, don’t eat dipping sauce that is served in bowls. I can guarantee that it is not the first time its seen the light of day. The containers we use to store ours in had a ring of mold that formed the air tight seal with the cap.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 18:05, Reply)
maccy d's
Sorry, but is anyone else getting pretty fuckin scared by the amount of McDonald's stories there are on this QOTW? I mean, everyones heard the rumours and stories but theres people admitting it on here.

You better watch out Ginger Fuhrer, its well known how much that clown faced twat Ronald loves a lawsuit.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 17:07, Reply)
My Local Chippy...
...once served me a battered horse cock!!!

All I wanted was a fishcake.

True Story.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 17:04, Reply)
Cheers Dumbmonkey
While I'm here...

Two more McD stories. There was a container of cola solution in the storeroom that leaked. We only noticed when it started coming throught the kitchen ceiling, it had eaten its way right through the industrial flooring of the storeroom as well as the ceiling...teeth? Nothing!

Also, during the night shifts when we got hungry and the grills were all off, we'd put on one of the electric bun toasters and fry up burgers on that. I became very partial to a double 1/4 pounder with pickle and Mac-Sauce, i.e. the stuff they put on Big Macs. I once asked for a 1/4 pounder with Mac Sauce rather than mustard and ketchup at a different store, but was told that it 'wasn't allowed'. I tried to get them to change their minds for about five minutes but no go. Why not try it next time you're bored, getting them to justify it is quite fun, and if you succeed, you'll thank me.

Oh yes, one more. We had a guy who worked the tills called Dan. He was an accountancy student and very quick. Now, in case you didn't know, McD uniforms have no pockets, to discourage thievage...Dan was sacked the night they found his till was UP exactly £40. He'd found a way of fiddling the till but obviously didn't get the chance to palm his £40 'bonus'. God knows how much he skimmed off during the 6 months he'd been working! Anyway, caps off to him.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 16:43, Reply)
Oh ...
... and another one, also from the Selsdon Park hotel. I did a spell on porters for a while, and part of the job was parking guests' cars and looking after their keys, if they were too lazy, or just plain pompous, to do it themselves.

One night there was a big storm. It was huge and devastating, and made the whole building rock. In fact, it turned out to be the biggest hurricane the UK had ever seen - the great storm of 1987.

One guest (a particularly patronising, arsey American) came down in the morning and asked for his car. I personally took him out to see it, and savoured every second as he beholded his brand new BMW. A large oak tree had fallen on it lengthways, and it now resembled a very expensive length of drainpipe. It was completely flattened. I wish I had a pic - it was truly a sight to behold.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 15:37, Reply)
Oh yes
Never in your life try and blag a meal just before closing-up time. It adds a good hour and a half onto the kitchen staff's shift and they will not thank you for it. Retribution expected.

EDITING: Also, i'm not sure whether Dumbmonkey's deliberately got that wrong and is being silly, or is a tool and thinks half the world doesn't know the correct definition.
EDITAGAIN: Wait, hold on...
FINALEDIT: Yeah, so grammar and punctuation and stuff really aids in reading comprehension. Sorry, never mind.
You may continue.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 15:24, Reply)
I have many, many catering stories..
..apart from this one:


When I was working at a place called the Selsdon Park (big 4* hotel) quite a few years back, I was in charge of the bar. The rule of thumb was that at night, as long as there were at least 20 residents in there, we stayed open.

This obviously led to all sorts of late night free bar conference shenanigans, with sad twats who couldn't hold their drink.

The one story which sticks out from all the rest is when we had a big fashion retailer called Pamplemousse (do they still exist?) in for a conference. They had a free bar, and were still in there at 5am.

I finally decided enough was enough when one of the table staff caught one of the senior Pamplemousse staff giving someone a blowjob underneath a jacket in the corner. We shut the bar, and sent everyone to bed.

Obviously not content with this, the same staff member proceeded to go upstairs to the man's room, do whatever she had to do, and then lock herself outside in the coridor naked. To cover herself up, she pulled down a large and very expensive curtain and wrapped it around herself. This classy and sophisticated lady then decided that she needed a shit, so she curled one off in one of the ashtrays beside the lift. She then went down to reception, smelling of turd and with a curtain wrapped round her, and angrily demanded in a pissed-up drawl to be let back into her room, indignant at the fact that the hotel had somehow got her into this predicament.

She was let into her room, and then presented with a ma-hhooo-sive bill by the duty manager the next morning. Funnily enough, she apparently didn't utter a single word of complaint, and sheepishly got out her chequebook.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 15:17, Reply)
Che Grimsdale
Vinegar Strokes - When you have a bag of chips, its the way you shake vinegar over them. But, not with vinegar. With spunk. And not on a plate.
(, Tue 25 Jul 2006, 15:03, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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