When you meet someone mean and I mean really, really mean. Someone who would cut you for fun, someone who could turn in an instant, well, you soon appreciate all the people you meet who are pretty much on your side - all those people who aren't out to cut you, or rob you, or spit on your kids.
One of the boundaries I gave myself on starting off with these pieces was that they should not descend into some sort of infantile and angry character-assassanation-collections. I am both angry and infantile as a person but for a change I thought I would share the love - concentrate on the unique and interesting points that people may have rather than their faults. And it is perhaps on this note that before I should apologize to Dave for any confusion over the mention of beers in the last post. I'm afraid he might have taken a metaphor to heart when all I should like to indicate is nothing but respect, both for doing a job I am unable to do and for the fact that I still have some respect left for a few of my experienced elders.
Boom with the fist Dave, I know you don't want to cut me.
However, tonight that's by the by and so lets cut to the chase and say Baz came back into the kitchen this evening and I could almost immediately feel the space become more sensual.
Danny was happy because he had someone to torment in his immediate vicinity and Barry was happy because he hadn't yet been worn down by the relentless stream of orders.
I was busy but I'm pretty sure someone touched someone else's bum.
Barry is a handsome and enigmatic man - he had his hair in that "just woken up" style and if one was a of homosexual tendencies, one might find him quite attractive.
One could easily describe him as a young priest in chef's whites.
Before his baby shift started at 6 o'cclock, though, I found Sleepo crawling about and scratching with a butter knife at the back of the walk-in.
I had known Sleepo from the Boathouse when I had worked there years before, just as I had known Jo and Jams and Fayfay.
For the whole time we have been acquainted, Sleepo and I have never shown any great interest in each other, other than Steve likes anchovies, relatively spicy food, chicken and Caesar salad. We have never been phoney with the serious-talk small-talk and I don't believe we will get that way in the future either.
"Nyee, nyyeee," Sleepo said as he scratched away at the back right-hand corner of the walk-in, under the racking with this cream-handled butter knife, on his hands and knees.
"What are you doing Sleepo?"
(Reader be aware that if there is any fault in either of our voices it is that mine might be slow, deep and sounds like I have learning difficulties, while Sleepo's might be perceived as slightly nasally and irritating.)
"There's a world beyond here," Mr Kleinhorn said, "we just have to break through to it."
He was scratching frantically and a fractal appeared in the back of the walk-in wall, shining a brilliant light through.
"You see, there is a whole world of little people through there - two tribes to be exact."
"Are you on the mushrooms Sleepo?" I asked.
"Nye, nyyee, no, no he said, not tonight, there are two tribes you see: The Arbeiter and The Belles Personnes. The Arbeiter tell The Belles Personnes what to do, and they give them food for doing it. They're all about a tenth of the side of us, but they don't live as long.
"The Arbeiters have one representative in the Grand Hall of The Belles Personnes who has to answer to the council of The Belle Personnes and explain why jobs allocated have been done too slowly or inadequately.
"The Arbeiters spokesman generally explains, 'But we have not enough time or resources.'
"But The Belles Personnes always answer, 'Well it is still not good enough, you shall receive no faith, favour or bonus from us.'
Sleepo knew all about the two tribes, the Arbeiters and The Belles Personnes - he had seen before how The Belles had exploited the Arbeits, their use of deception and self-doubt as tools of power and control.
"Let's gas them out Sleepo," I said, "if I throw chilli flakes on a red hot pan I can make tear gas."
"Nye, nyyee, no, no," said Sleepo, "lets just kill them all, set them on fire, nye, nyyee wong chong - set them on fire - napalm, nyyee."
"What the fuck are you on about Sleepo?" I said.
"What the fuck are you all about? Napalm them? Napalm indeed."
Barry is back and I feel a sexual tension in the kitchen.
Maybe it is all back on.
"Nye, nyyee," said Sleepo, eye to the hole.
"The Belles Personnes were wiping out the Arbeiters, but now the Arbeiters are fighting back and they're kicking some fucking ass too - come and look through the hole, come and look..."
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