Before I made bad life decisions. I got a job in a restaurant.
While continuing to make bad life decisions, I got better at my job.
Trouble with the law? Whatever, I nailed 300 covers last night.
I drink in the morning every now and again. I also cooked my months wages worth of tenderloin, 8 ounces at a time, in 2 hours.
Even the guy that wanted medium plus, was happy.
So what if I hit a parked car on the way home. Hopefully it was the guy that ordered medium plus.
Every cynical dick of a cook, whose skills are dwarfed only by their sarcasm, and intolerance of others, had a beginning.
This is what we are when we start...
Then we work with a guy like this...
We do a little more of this...
Until guys like this...
Have us thinking we're now this....
And we cook and plate shit like this...
Every time, exactly like this, over and over.
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