I go back and forth about writing this post. Do you all care about the new job? It is such a central part of my life, but yet I haven't really talked to anyone but the boy about it. I don't know. Sometimes this blog feels super self centered and then I remember that it is a blog about me, so that is kind of the point? I guess my life has just been void of hilarious shenanigans and I feel guilty because I keep giving you life updates instead of the time Erratic accidentally ate a live toad. That never actually happened. Yet. But it will make for a decent story when it inevitably does.
New job. The drive is shockingly cathartic. It is probably my favorite part of my day, which I did not expect. It takes me about a half hour, I give myself 45 minutes. I spend that time reflecting up on my life. Psht. That's a lie. I spend that time singing ridiculous songs at the top of my lungs and eating the various snacks I have packed for myself. I have to pay for food at new job. So, I eat in my car. There may or may not be a neighbor who I wave to every morning with an English Muffin hanging out of my mouth. Classy. That's what this blog is all about. Keeping it classy.
The actual job is, well...ugh. I don't know where to start.
First of all...in restaurants (and I assume most jobs) the first week is like watching paint dry while trying desperately to get transferred to the department that watches grass grow. You have no idea what the fuck you are doing and how to do it or where to do it or when. Yes, I have a skilled trade. But, there is a sense of respect. You don't just march in and shove someone out of the way and scream "THIS IS MY KITCHEN BITCHES" and then light everything on fire.
In hindsight, maybe that is exactly what you do. Now I really want to do that. I am going to need a fake kitchen and some extremely flammable dummies...
Unfortunately, that is not what I did. I did what I do best, I stand around awkwardly waiting for someone to tell me what to do so I stop feeling awkward. Oh, and I say weird things because I forget that these people don't know me. And sometimes, someone instantly gets that about me (one person) while everyone else stands around and shoots looks at each other that pretty much say, "Who the fuck hired her?"
On top of that, I am already kind of a legacy. The Executive Chef/Friend has talked me up to everyone (customers included) for approximately all of time. Yes, this is flattering. Yes, this is a lot of fucking shit to live up to.
On one note: I am the best chef there. Hands down. That is not bragging. That is a fact.
One another note: Pretty, pretty please will everyone like me?
Do you like the person that someone tells you for months on end is better than you? No, you in fact do not. You are super uncomfortable around them. You walk on egg shells around them. You talk about them when they leave the room. You taste everything they make skeptically and then tell everyone it wasn't that good.
That last part may be in my head. There is this super sweet 19 year old that follows me around telling me how awesome I am all the time. I am on board with him. More of him.
The current kitchen manager (my peer, even though my title is sous chef) and I were going over the current menu, which I was brought on to fix. I spent about an hour telling him that Kitchen Nightmares found their next restaurant. The menu is AWFUL. (note to self...eat somewhere before you agree to work there, no matter how much it pays.) And I was told to be completely honest. So, we are going through some menu modifications and I completely fucked up the math (math is hard!) and he fixed it. I said, "well, thankfully someone can do math," to which he responded, "At least I can do something."
Heart. Broken. I don't want to make anyone feel that way. We talked about it and the conversation basically ended with me saying the only thing I like about cooking is putting a group of people in a room to cook. It doesn't matter if one people or 10 people come up with the ideas, it is the team that makes the idea awesome. It seemed to help. I feel like such an ass.
That is the summary of my entire experience of my new job...I feel like an ass. I feel like there are so many expectations put on my shoulders and I know that I can live up to them, but I don't know if I can live up to them without stepping on every single toe that is currently there.
They have a $7.99 all you can eat menu (note to self: AT LEAST LOOK AT THEIR MOTHER FUCKING MENU ONLINE, ASSHOLE.)
The new restaurant will be different, I know that. I know that I can make the current restaurant 1000 times better. I know that I am doing good and this is good experience and eventually everyone will see me for who I really am instead of some over inflated ass hole. Eventually they will trust me and like me, because I may not have any self confidence what so ever, but I know that I get along with most people.
As far as a career move goes...is it better to be the best chef in the room or the worst? I think the answer is probably the worst.
I like it. I know this post probably doesn't reflect that, but I needed to vent a little bit. I still think it was a good career move. Or career suicide. It all depends on me. I know that I am going to do my very best to kill it and put this restaurant on the map. Fuck that. I am going to put this restaurant on the map.
What I 100% do know is that their front of house manager is a whistler. A full out, always whistling, whistler.
In case you were wondering, this is punishable by death.