Tuesday, May 17, 2005
*thunk*
That was the distinctive sound of a shoe dropping. Now it's all on me to figure out what to do next.
Last night Chef stopped by my station and muttered that we needed to talk later. He seemed a bit off--he'd been swearing and throwing things earlier (eye roll), but he no longer seemed angry. I was pretty sure he'd hit that psychoticly amused stage of anger--where you've been so angry for so long that everything that goes wrong seems funny--but I couldn't be sure. He put off the talk as long as possible, delaying cleanup and irritating everyone else in the kitchen, but eventually we finished up, and he motioned for me to follow him to the bar. He poured me a beer and we sat down.
The long and short of it is, the restaurant is really struggling. His investors have been pushing to get rid of me--not because I've done anything wrong or I'm not good enough, but because our dessert sales aren't high enough to justify having a pastry chef. I'll give him credit: he's busting his ass to keep me. So for me to stay, I have to do less pastry and more sous chef duties (prep, purchasing, other managerial tasks).
I'm stuck. I can go along with the changes and become something new, which can only help me in the future should I decide to try to run my own place, but I know full well that it will make me miserable. Or I can look for another job and turn everyone else's lives upside down in the process.
He cried. He and his wife are so stressed out trying to make this work, and I really empathize. I guess I knew in my heart it was all too good to last. Now I have to decide where to go from here.
That was the distinctive sound of a shoe dropping. Now it's all on me to figure out what to do next.
Last night Chef stopped by my station and muttered that we needed to talk later. He seemed a bit off--he'd been swearing and throwing things earlier (eye roll), but he no longer seemed angry. I was pretty sure he'd hit that psychoticly amused stage of anger--where you've been so angry for so long that everything that goes wrong seems funny--but I couldn't be sure. He put off the talk as long as possible, delaying cleanup and irritating everyone else in the kitchen, but eventually we finished up, and he motioned for me to follow him to the bar. He poured me a beer and we sat down.
The long and short of it is, the restaurant is really struggling. His investors have been pushing to get rid of me--not because I've done anything wrong or I'm not good enough, but because our dessert sales aren't high enough to justify having a pastry chef. I'll give him credit: he's busting his ass to keep me. So for me to stay, I have to do less pastry and more sous chef duties (prep, purchasing, other managerial tasks).
I'm stuck. I can go along with the changes and become something new, which can only help me in the future should I decide to try to run my own place, but I know full well that it will make me miserable. Or I can look for another job and turn everyone else's lives upside down in the process.
He cried. He and his wife are so stressed out trying to make this work, and I really empathize. I guess I knew in my heart it was all too good to last. Now I have to decide where to go from here.
Comments:
Post a Comment
