I did not say much for the rest of the day; I peeled my eggs and worked through my prep list—a bounty of long arduous tasks. Now the beauty of repetitive tasks is that they give you time to think and my thoughts were for revenge.
Two weeks later my time at the hotel had drawn to and end, and the end of my work experience signaled the beginning of a new mission, a mission of revenge. Taking a piping bag from the pastry kitchen I filled it with a pint of crusty béarnaise sauce that was left over from breakfast. I said my farewells to the guys and set off to the changing room. The number seven may be lucky for some, but on this particular occasion I proved it otherwise, seven was the number of Brian’s locker. I removed the piping bag from my knife box, placed the opening of the bag up against the vent in his locker squeezed it like a champ. According to eyewitnesses, when Brian opened his locker and found his clothes had been successfully napped, he was none too pleased...
There is a moral to this story, (you knew there would be). If you’re the little guy in the kitchen, keep your mouth shut and your head down, don’t get involved in arguments that don’t concern you and you won’t leave work feeling like a complete spanner… And if you’re a big cheese and you piss off the little guy, you had best know a good dry cleaner.
By Jeremy Emmerson
Related story: A Dream Kitchen
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