Wednesday, September 9, 2009

I took a beating today. Not physical--no that was yesterday when I burned my arm on the oven door, and this afternoon actually, when I biked against wind uphill to relieve the stress of the day--but mental. And as a highly overanalytical and very sensitive person, mental abuse is worse than the physical; allow me to explain.

All summer we have recieved mixed salad greens from Little Creek Organic Greens. Dale, the farmer of these, takes such care as to have employees harnessed to wires so as to hover above the delicate leaves while weeding to avoid trampling them--as legend has it, at least. The last few days have been frosty though, and this weeks order was a little de-thawed looking. I assumed however, considering how fresh they were and that we had never had a problem from the farm before, that it was our cooler, and I relocated all four boxes to a less fan-directed spot in the walk-in. This, apparently, is reason enough for a chef to lose his cool. Not only did I get yelled at as to where the greens were, then why they were there, and then how could I be so ignorant as to put them there, but our dishwasher did too, for she assisted in explaining the lettuce situation. And then out of the cooler comes chef number two, also yelling about where the greens were and, well, you get the idea. Again, I tried to explain why I moved them but more yelling only ensued, some in German, some in English, until finally I was told that this was a "yes-chef" moment. Furthermore, I found out, there would be only "yes-chef" moments to come, and if I could learn this and other regulations of my position than we would have no more problems to come. This was behaviour, apparently, he would no longer tolerate.

I am not notoriously a disrespectful person. Quite the opposite actually, especially when it comes to my job. And after spending the last moments of my day wondering if I was out of place to defend my lettuce moving, I have decided taht it was all too ridiculous. And hurtful coming from people whom I thought had alot more respect for me. Id sooner have kept biking, in pouring rain and with an anvil in the basket of my bike than feel as questioningly (is that a word--im sure you understand) about my career and my job (different things, believe me, veryvery different) as I do now.

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