A Wild Night

~ Amelia's POV ~

I just got off work exhausted from what a day I had, not to mention just getting fired for standing up for myself, but no I shouldn't have. Maybe I should've endured the waywardness of that fat pig. In a world where I could have been anything, I would have chosen to be the rat in the movie Ratatouille just because food is my life and I'm pretty great at it. If I do say so myself, but thinking about it, rats do have their own type of problem on their own. That world, but it's either that or becoming a fly so I can shit inside of my manager's mouth every time he opens it, that singular act would give me so much happiness.

I really do get a lot of positive feedback and compliments on my food and baked goodies, but all are from either my friends, family, or people I know. I Constantly hear I'm a great cook and that my food is delicious from people that don't know any better or can just be deceiving me so as not to discourage me from my dream of becoming a head chef because they care about me so much they don't want to hurt my feelings. Knowing that they consider me a chef is not a huge accomplishment for me. It does not make me want to scream from the rooftop of my apartment building or make me want to jump out of bed in the morning and be excited about starting a new day, looking forward to the endless possibilities of what that day brings about.

The thing is, in a society where there's a very slim chance of any female chefs making it at all in the food industry, it disappoints me a lot and is very heart-aching every time I think about it. Food for me is a big part of who I am, my identity I am aside from my smart-ass mouth, and becoming a chef, not only a chef but a head chef, would be that huge accomplishment that makes me scream from my rooftop and eagerly jump out of my bed every morning.

I think or would rather say I know for a fact that the masculine superiority of the male gender is infuriating, especially to a talented woman. They critique women way harder than they do their fellow males, putting unnecessary pressure on us and providing a lot of obstacles and hardships before we can even be considered good enough to be amongst the men for a male-dominating career. It is a known fact that women and the kitchen go hand in hand, so imagine my outrage knowing that there are far more male chefs than women. I mean I don't have a problem with men being chefs or whatever they want to be, but they give us women the same fairness, respect, and equal opportunity the male gender gets. Is that too much to ask? Most times, my sassy attitude and smart-ass mouth get me into a lot of trouble. Some could've easily been avoided on my part, but in other situations, they had it coming.

The reason I got fired in the first place is because of a perverted idiot like there's no way in hell I'm letting a rich snob smack or grope my ass or do any demeaning physical act to my body or talk to me like I'm some piece of ass they can find twirling around on some pole in a nightclub. I got fired for slapping a rich fat pig. As I was bending down to pick up the fork, he threw it off the table on purpose. His right hand made its way up one of my exposed legs so I quickly raised it up and gave him a resounding slap across his stupid-looking face, causing the whole restaurant to go silent at my action, the audacity of him to even think he could even try such nonsense with me or any woman for that matter.

After I slapped him, I stormed off back to the kitchen. He should be counting his lucky stars. I didn't push his whole right hand into the piping hot coffee. I paced on the table in front of him before bending down for the stupid fork. The part about this whole thing that pissed me off the most is when my manager came angrily into the kitchen after me, I guess he witnessed everything. He then told me to go and apologize profusely to the customer that I had just humiliated out there. I was not even shocked at him telling me that being the type of manager he is, I wouldn't even be surprised if he'd already fucked every female employee under his authority and he's been so determined to get into my pants ever since I started working here. He continued on to say that the customer is always right and that I should go and apologize or do as he's been asking. First of all, I would not stoop so low to ever let his d*ck get anywhere close to my vagina and I certainly would not apologize for sticking up for myself.

As he continued ranting, I saw one of the dishwashers coming toward our direction where we stood with a bucket of filly water that was clogged up in the sink earlier. I grabbed the bucket from her hand and signaled for her to step back, as I did the same, and then I poured all the contents on my manager's head, making sure not to get the filthy water on anybody else. I know for a fact my action should more than answer his question. I walked out of the kitchen and went to the female locker- room, picked up my belongings and I was out of there.