A Wild Night

lia's

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

ny 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

ery 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 che

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 wan

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 qui

tchen 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

ucket 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