aurevoir, chien!

yes.
good-bye dog.
kitchen dog, that is. i'm unsure of the meaning of the term, but i have been dubbed as such for almost six months now. i even googled it to see if it was a common nick-name for a girl working the line in a restaurant.

nope.

so nonetheless- on i go- wagging my tail and panting like an obese retriever to the next restaurant. (actually, the name is making more sense now that i spell it out. hmm.) but for the time being i will resume my duties as a server of fine wines and excellent feasts. and that's honestly a freaking vacation from the way things are right now.

now, i pretty much get paid about eight and change to run around a kitchen the size of a handicapped stall and sweat and bleed. because that's really about all it boils down to: drinking enough water so i don't pass out from dehydration, and thinking i've had a good day if i come home with all my fingers. which is great, really. but only if it pays the bills. which it doesn't.
there are a very select few in this world who can honestly justify the exhaustion, pain, and disgust of working in a kitchen full-time. i, myself am not one of them. maybe in the very distant future if i happen to become bedfellows with anthony bourdain or the likes- but as it stands, i doubt it. i'll stick to watching top chef and rachael ray.

don't get me wrong. i love to cook. and i love to be in a heated environment like that (no pun intended). but i'm young. very young. and i fear that i have already lost about six years off my life from this. and i think it's best if i get out with five fingers on each hand, and decent looking forearms. i took a challenge. did my best. and now i must move on.


but honestly, the only thing that really scares me is that i might get bored in the real world.
i might long for sautee pans flying past my head.
i might miss the smell of burnt oil.
i could miss being covered in grease and grill bits.
pasta water!!! vegetables!!! i need fucking PASTA WATER!!!
ohh, come on man!! i'm weeded!!
zoe! where my tongs!!? you take my tongs!!?

...but i doubt it...


so, wish me luck.
and hope that lassie doesn't come home.