Food for Thought

The other day I was taking out the trash when I watched a city bus drive by, noticing the advertisement on its side. It was for Gordon Ramsay's, Hell's Kitchen. Personally, I've never watched the show. I do like Ramsay though. He makes a mean scrambled egg with creme fresh. Anyway, For a moment, as I watched Ramsay pass by with his bull-dog stare, I acknowledged myself as a cook in uniform: nice coat, apron, funny hat, black pants, black shoes. And for a moment, it seemed kind of surreal. He and I were in the same line of work. There's a kind of glamour in being a cook; unfortunately, some of the saps I work with assume their lives are going to be like Ramsey's. But, for the humble few, they know, as well as I, that as glamourous as the world of food may be, it's a hell of a lot of work. Until the day you die. For a moment, I yearned for school again.

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