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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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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)

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