The Prick in the Chef’s Coat

21 June 2021

I found myself hiding behind a parked car in the parking lot at work.  I crouched there, hiding from my boss who was walking from one building to another. While squatting behind a random sedan, I started thinking. What was I doing here? It can’t be good if you literally hide from your boss. Why do I work for a man whose mere presence makes me want to throw up in my mouth? Better yet, what was I doing with my life? And then a thought occurred to me. I should have hidden behind a SUV instead of this sedan. Better coverage. Then it dawned on me that instead of focusing on finding a new job with a halfway decent boss, I was focused on the size of car I chose to hide behind. Well, I suppose that explains a lot.

Once the coast was clear, I left the safety of my hiding spot. My work day ritual had been spoiled by the man that caused me to need the ritual in the first place. What an even larger asshole. Now, I was putting myself at risk of dealing with my boss without having the chance to prepare. I usually have a pep talk in my car every morning before going in. Then I have another one on my walk into the building. I remind myself that this job isn’t forever and that the benefits are the reason I’ve stayed, even when I’ve dreamt of walking out. Another big part of the routine is a mental run down of all the insanely stupid and offensive shit I’ve seen him do and say to myself and others. 

There’s a plethora of precious moments to choose from. Like the time he yelled at a line cook when he had lowered his mask to take a sip of water. Naturally, our boss caught him in the 7 seconds his mask hung below his nose.  He told him to keep his mask up. A fact that was widely understood. My coworker said he told our boss that he felt dehydrated from working the hot tine in a mask for eight hours straight, so he needed to hydrate more frequently. Our “know it all” boss told the cook not to worry, because the mask was actually keeping him hydrated because it retained moisture. So not true. The guy said he almost walked out the door on the spot. 

Watching my boss do manual labor is another highlight for me. When he is responsible for putting a bunch of palettes filled with supplies away, I know it is going to be a good day. There’s sweat permanently dripping down his temples. Often he has to retreat to his office just to catch his breath. He oftentimes cannot move a loaded palette through a decently sized doorway, so he cuts through the wrapping and unloads boxes individually. Thereby making the task harder than it needs to be and blocking key parts of the kitchen. When he’s covering a shift, he always needs help and schedules people to come in before their shift begins to help. I find this ironic, because the guy has no respect for how hard and efficient his staff works daily, and guffaws at the idea of having more help for any of his staff. 

My boss isn’t the kind of guy that has ever, nor will ever win a popularity contest. Before I come off sounding biased, this is the general belief held by just about, if not, everyone who works in this department. Every cook that works for him does everything they can to avoid asking this guy anything. If you’re desperate and you find yourself stuck in this man’s presence you are shit out of luck.  He will answer your question in 20 minutes or longer, no matter how simple the question is. He will change his answer within those 20 minutes and completely contradict himself. I gave up asking or listening to how he wanted something done. No matter what he told me or what I did, he would want the opposite. It was infuriating. I’d have better luck flipping a coin. It’s unnerving to never do anything correct.  He’ll say, “hmmm. I wouldn’t have done it that way.” Even if it’s the way he told you he wanted it done. You’re damned if you do, and you’re damned if you don’t. 

Inept is probably the best word to describe my boss in action. When he’s in the kitchen, not even on the line, it looks like it’s his first day on the job. Maybe, the first time he’s ever set foot in a kitchen. I’ll look over at him and swear I’m watching Helen Keller work in his place. Except my bet’s on Helen. I’m certain she would have smoked his ass in the kitchen. Oddly enough, it’s not his first day on the job. He’s been the executive chef where I work for a decade. A decade. I’ve watched him lose over a dozen cooks solely because he acts like himself. Funny, that so many people don’t want to work for a guy that is condescending, unjustly arrogant, rude, hypocritical, humorless, and so unbelievingly annoying and boring that you would rather bang your head against a wall than deal with him. Call me crazy, but if you haven’t figured out how to do your job by now and your entire staff avoids you, then maybe this isn’t the job for you.

There’s an etiquette to working in a kitchen. There’s a way of doing things and saying things so that when the kitchen is slammed, things run smoothly. My boss appears to have never learned or retained these skills. When passing by another cook, especially if he’s carrying something, he will jerkily move out of the way in the most uncomfortable looking manner. He’s tall, but walks with a significant slump, as if he’s always walking in a crawl space. By the look of it, he’s past the early stages of the formation of a humpback. In a few more years his back will be a fully transitioned humpback. He never uses kitchen commands, nor understands their meaning and why they’re necessary. When I walk behind him and say “behind,” he spastically tries to move out of the way. The point of saying “behind” is to let another cook know where you are located. It’s key to know where everyone is in the kitchen, in order to avoid accidents and catastrophes.

The only kitchen etiquette my boss follows is how to carry a knife.  And that’s only sometimes. He carries a knife around with both hands, as if wielding something larger than a kitchen knife. It looks as if he’s lugging around a sword. I keep wondering whether he has any forearm strength. You can see the strain on his forearms from the weight of the “big” blade. He walks around like a speedy mute, never mentioning the terms ”knife” or “knife behind.” But we all know when he’s slugging one around. You can see him coming from a mile away. When he’s in a hurry, he’s pointing that fucker outwards, rather than toward himself, as is custom.

This man doesn’t lead by example. Either he can’t or he’s never heard the phrase before. A lot of chefs over the years have made an effort to mentor their staff. They’ll take dishwashers and turn them into prep cooks, line cooks, and sous chefs. That’s common protocol in the industry. This chef doesn’t believe in that. He wants a cook who could pass the graduation exam at cooking school. There’s a big difference in rhythm and flow in a kitchen when all your experience is from class and not from working in a restaurant. I’ve personally witnessed him deny a dishwasher the chance to be trained how to cook. It seems odd that he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to train someone the way he wants them to work in his kitchen, especially when the person is willing and eager. It’s no wonder he has staffing problems. His standards are whack. And even if he finds a “good” candidate, the odds of that cook staying and putting up with his bullshit are minimal. 

It’s super fun to work for someone who is so consumed with themself that they cannot see that they are the source of all the problems. Either he can’t or won’t admit this, but there is one common cause for why people walk out or don’t last. It’s him! He’s like a festering turd, but a turd who thinks he’s the most important asset in the kitchen. Rather than having a littler perspective, he blames the cook that walks out, by saying they had an anger problem. He’s a “chef,” not a psychologist. His insecurity prompts him to abuse his power and to never take responsibility for anything that goes wrong. It drives me insane to work for a chef that has so little respect for anyone who works for him. And lucky me, I’m one of a few women who still work for him. He seems to dump on the female staff at higher rates than the males. I love being talked to like I’m an idiot. And don’t even get me started on the mansplaining. It’s nice to know he has little faith in me or my abilities, and questions my instincts and points out all my flaws. He nitpicks every single thing until there’s nothing left to pick. 

This man has no sense of timing when it comes to cooking or conversing. Timing is key in cooking. So is multitasking. Cooking is a struggle if you can’t do more than one thing at once. Communicating is key in management. If you can’t talk to an employee without making them feel like their concerns and opinions don’t matter, that’s a problem. It’s an even bigger problem when you can’t muster the smallest shred of respect when communicating with an employee. Being aware of the amount of time you’re taking from a person when you have a one way conversation with them is also important. It’s no shock to me that my coworkers and I literally avoid being caught in his vortex. If I do get caught I usually just stand there, nod every now and again and completely drown out the sound of his arrogant, stiff monotone voice that bores the living hell out of me. 

A person like this cannot be genuine, no matter how hard they try. The only time he acts “nice” is during the week before an employee survey is handed out, allowing us the opportunity to grade his performance for the year. For a week, he’ll kiss everyone’s ass and attempt to make up for a year of treating people like shit. The problem is I don’t want this buffoon kissing my ass. All I want is a little respect for the entire time I work for someone, not just the week before we review his job performance. For years, he’s received terrible scores and he still remains. That comes at no surprise to me. The people whose job it is to stand up to this inept bully and hold him accountable don’t have the balls to do so. 

I had a sit down with him awhile back and he had what I thought was a real moment of clarity. He said he couldn’t help but ask if he was part of the problem when it came to issues in the kitchen. Before I opened my mouth and yelled, “good god, yes!” I paused. I fought the urge to inform him that he was a prick who no one liked or respected. Instead, I told him he needed to work on his communication style. He came across condescending, I said. I sat across from him, wondering if I had gone too far. He became quiet and appeared to be shocked. I stared at his confused face and refused to believe that this was the first time this man had been told he was condescending. 

My female supervisor who also loathes this pathetic excuse of a man found me after our little meeting. She said he sat in silence for ten minutes and then looked at her and asked, “do you think it’s because I’m taller than everyone and so I’m physically looking down at people when I talk to them? Do you think that’s why people think I’m condescending?” I debated punching my hand through the wall. What the actual fuck? Even when I bother to tell this man straight to his face why no one likes him, it’s not clear enough for him. 

A couple of months ago, I begged another supervisor in the department to take me.  As soon as I learned I got the position, even after my old boss tried to interfere, I felt a level of relief I hadn’t felt before. I felt like I had won the lottery.  My new position is no dream job, but it’s nice to work for someone you can trust and who doesn’t make you want to cut your ears off. I still see my old boss in the kitchen and watch as he berates cooks, who would probably be better at his job than he is. Life is full of assholes. I don’t need to work for one. Especially one that walks around like a giant man baby with a hunchback. He may be the tallest person in the kitchen, despite the developing hunchback, but his stature can’t hide the fact that he’s the smallest man on the inside.