So, I am a cook again. I swore I would never work in a kitchen again, stress, no money, and some major roadblocks preventing me from getting my papers. But I lost the job I got when I quit cooking due to some health problems, and tonight found me back in the white suit and funny hat, banging burgers and nacho's at a local Pub.
It is not so much that I need money, I have 3 months left that I could keep sucking up the medical unemployment insurance and playing guitar, civ4, and a few other diversions. But without work, time off is meaningless, and I needed to do something. A couple of calls got me in with a good buddy of mine who is trying to turn a local pub into a "gastro pub", still with most of the usual pub food, but with some more interesting items thrown in. It was nice to work again, and when we got hit with 30-40 covers for the hockey game rush, I got the same feeling I always get when I rock my job, I am the culinaryoverlord, bitches!
So, ITT; have you ever gone back to a profession you swore you would never return to? If so, why?
C/O
"I need 3 grilled veg filones, 2 fry, one greens with herb vinagrette, I need 2 bacon cheese with fry, I need one yellow beet salad, appys; may I call?"
Comments
I returned to selling pills now, just to make ends meet and support a minor opiate addiction/buy a few necessities now and then.
I was damn good at it, but man did I hate dealing with the customers....It was just one big clusterfuck of loonies, urban legends, and just plain retards.
Until you throw a drunk out, dont tell the owner and the drunk gets back in. Fighting and walking away from it time...
People really underestimate the patience, and hard work it takes to be a good drug dealer. A good drug dealer is never out of product, a good drug dealer delivers within the hour if they are a dial up, and home dealers must keep hours appropriate to their clients, a weed dealer can call it a day at 10 or so, E dealers can book off at midnight, but coke and speed dealers have to be on the clock till the wee hours.
Then there are the custies, you don't want to sell to strangers, but you need clients, and knowing each person you are introduced to could be a rat is stressful to say the least. Then they want to pay you tomorrow for dope today and get all out of joint even though they know damn well they shouldn't have wasted your time in the first place. Never mind that you might have to roll armed depending on how hardcore you are. It's actually a pretty rough job, and the dream of most dealers is to jump up a notch, and be the guy they buy their dope from.
C/O
"sympathy for the devil?"