The Sexual Anarchy of Working in an Industrial Kitchen
As mentioned in my relentless self indulgent blogging, I work a lot of jobs right now. The idea was, to move out of the urban hellscape and retvrn/go insane living in the woods. Something I’ve talked about for a long time.
Things were all going smoothly until I suddenly found myself with the amount of liquid cash that, according to the plan, I was first supposed to have in a couple of months. I can’t go into details, but lets just say that every time things in my life seem to go bad, I’m always saved at the last minute by miraculous intervention. Lets just say the sweet baby Jesus saw fit to manifest REAL CASH into my life. I refuse any responsibility for turning things around, I accept no responsibility for anything good that happens, ever. Anything good that happens is the benevolence of God, anything bad that happens is my personal responsibility, forever, no exception.
Anyways, and I met a girl who will 99% certainly become my gf in ~September. All of a sudden, I’m finding myself thinking about not moving after all. All of a sudden, I’m finding myself thinking about, just sticking with this and making more money, maybe seeing how this girl thing plays out, you know.
One of the things I do is short shifts washing dishes in an industrial kitchen. I’ve been thinking a lot about internet poster “Grendel” and his misadventures as a line cook, his catchphrases about seducing waitresses, many things. I get it now. I’m flirting with waitresses too. The industrial kitchen is a highly sexual environment. I think it’s the humidity.
Today was the first time I had a bad day at work. Through no fault of the kitchen, or the people there — all of a sudden, during the shift, I just found myself feeling really fucking depressed and gloomy. Really destructive — self destructive, murderous, you name it.
How I got upset
One of the waiters was making conversation, said something about how things were moving along pretty fast. Complimenting my work. I just made some affirmative human noises. A couple of minutes later I saw him again, said “I thought of something funnier to reply. Tell me that again.”
