A Boy Named June*
So on my second day of work, I show up at my appointed hour, and, as the chef/owner, Theo, seems to expect, June is late.
I met June on my first day of work, when I remembered him as the sweaty, slow-seeming guy who took my order on that fateful day when I first visited the restaurant. He failed to alert Theo of my order (or so someone else said), turning a long wait into a very long wait. Fortunately for me, the waiting area of the joint was well-appointed with comfy chairs, books on Buddhism, and a thumb piano.
When June does arrive, he sets to work immediately, but something is amiss. Theo, calm and focused even with a dozen orders demanding his immediate attention, is snapping at June. Something about using the wrong cutting board. "OK, Theo, I got it." "No, not OK! You need to remember! I already tell you!" "OK OK." "No, not OK, you do it the way I tell you next time!" Jeezum, Theo, take it easy. June's a decent bloke and diligent prep cook/delivery man/stock boy, everyone makes mistakes.
A little while later, I'm standing next to June as he cuts broccoli. From across the central prep table, Theo turns and looks at the cut broccoli. June explodes.
"Fuck this shit!" He throws down his towel, knocking a large chef's knife onto the floor, and makes for the front exit. "You get the fuck out of here now!" Theo yells back. "Give me my fucking money!" June stops and moves back towards the cash register. "No, you stay out there! You get out there now!" Pointing towards the front exit. Theo goes to the cash register, asks me when June arrived. 5.15. Theo pulls out a ten and hands it to June through the window, June leaves.
"I glad he gone. He make me nervous. I have to watch when he cut to make sure he not make mistake." Well, Theo, now we don't have a delivery guy. "That ok. I feel better now, less nervous. June make me nervous. I can't trust him. He lazy. He don't know how to learn." Ok, Theo, but when people call and want delivery, I have to tell them we can't sell them food. "Oh, man, look at this broccoli. I teach him how to cut, but look at this shit. Too small." A catastrophe of unprecedented proportions.
Calm Theo has returned, but apparently he brought some need for self-justification with him. The rest of the evening Theo explains what a bad guy June is. "We worked together for ten years. He did lots of little jobs for me. But I glad he gone now. We find somebody else. Maybe I find hispanic woman who want to learn to cook Thai food."
Good luck, Theo. I'll just stand here, slice this red tofu, and re-adjust my opinion of my new boss.
*Names may or may not have been changed in protect the innocent, the not-so-innocent, and the currently unaffiliated.
I met June on my first day of work, when I remembered him as the sweaty, slow-seeming guy who took my order on that fateful day when I first visited the restaurant. He failed to alert Theo of my order (or so someone else said), turning a long wait into a very long wait. Fortunately for me, the waiting area of the joint was well-appointed with comfy chairs, books on Buddhism, and a thumb piano.
When June does arrive, he sets to work immediately, but something is amiss. Theo, calm and focused even with a dozen orders demanding his immediate attention, is snapping at June. Something about using the wrong cutting board. "OK, Theo, I got it." "No, not OK! You need to remember! I already tell you!" "OK OK." "No, not OK, you do it the way I tell you next time!" Jeezum, Theo, take it easy. June's a decent bloke and diligent prep cook/delivery man/stock boy, everyone makes mistakes.
A little while later, I'm standing next to June as he cuts broccoli. From across the central prep table, Theo turns and looks at the cut broccoli. June explodes.
"Fuck this shit!" He throws down his towel, knocking a large chef's knife onto the floor, and makes for the front exit. "You get the fuck out of here now!" Theo yells back. "Give me my fucking money!" June stops and moves back towards the cash register. "No, you stay out there! You get out there now!" Pointing towards the front exit. Theo goes to the cash register, asks me when June arrived. 5.15. Theo pulls out a ten and hands it to June through the window, June leaves.
"I glad he gone. He make me nervous. I have to watch when he cut to make sure he not make mistake." Well, Theo, now we don't have a delivery guy. "That ok. I feel better now, less nervous. June make me nervous. I can't trust him. He lazy. He don't know how to learn." Ok, Theo, but when people call and want delivery, I have to tell them we can't sell them food. "Oh, man, look at this broccoli. I teach him how to cut, but look at this shit. Too small." A catastrophe of unprecedented proportions.
Calm Theo has returned, but apparently he brought some need for self-justification with him. The rest of the evening Theo explains what a bad guy June is. "We worked together for ten years. He did lots of little jobs for me. But I glad he gone now. We find somebody else. Maybe I find hispanic woman who want to learn to cook Thai food."
Good luck, Theo. I'll just stand here, slice this red tofu, and re-adjust my opinion of my new boss.
*Names may or may not have been changed in protect the innocent, the not-so-innocent, and the currently unaffiliated.
posted by Takeout Lawyer at 10:32 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home