Kitchen Life

Kitchen Life-By Alex Watson

The steam coming from the sink below blinded Leon, his face felt like to was about to melt and as a result he wiped a batch of sweat from his brow. Moments like these we customary in a kitchen, at busy time your thoughts would have to absent as there was simply no time what so ever to have them.
It had been two months since he had started working here at Cooper’s Play Centre; Leon had time to kill before he moved on so time would have to wait. He had had a lonely time since he returned from his adventure overseas and now he needed something purely to exist. Exist, that was something he was wondering if it was worth it, after all he looked at some of the people who occupied this place, they were all either people waiting for a life, or ones who had life pass them by. This theory was proven by the entrance of arrogant Alan, the assistant manager, a man with a defining presence as his blonde hair made him look like something out of the Third Reich!
“Oi Oi there Leon what’s happening” he loudly announced as he entered, his tone of voice had always made Leon want to stab him. Instead of giving Alan the dignity of a reply he merely put his thumb up, it was one of those days.

This place wasn’t all doom and gloom for Leon because he got paid a rather decent wage for a part time almost student come dogsbody. It was just that the way he had to earn it in his eyes was hard, even though most people would laugh at him for seeing it that way.
The job he occupied mainly consisted of him standing over a sink looking over a batch of dirty dishes while occasionally making something that one of the chef’s couldn’t be bothered to do himself.
Suddenly Leon found his train of thought interrupted as Marlon, the head chef made his entrance. He was one of Leon’s more liked member of staff because he understood the kind of work that he did and at the same time seemed to simultaneously hate all the members of staff that he did.
“Leon my old son, outside you will see a pile of dishes that need to go down to the other kitchen, please see to it, oh yes and down there you’ll see a brown box, bring it up cause I need it ASAP” Marlon ordered him, clearly this wasn’t one of his chatting days. Leon did as he was asked, anything different resulted in a ‘little chat’ from ‘Digger’, the manager and that was something that Leon wanted avoid at all costs.

As he grabbed the pile of dishes a pain shot right up one of the nerves in his forearm, for a second it felt like he was going to drop it, thankfully such an event did not occur. This was Leon’s job pretty much, yes sir, no sir. It was the repeat process of the day that got him down, get up, work, have Marlon or Nick stressed, Digger on your back for something, Alan being Alan, go home and be angry. This got him down but not the extent that he felt like quitting after all what else was he going to do with his time? His friends (or lack of them) were all at university, so that pretty much cancelled out quitting for the time being. The thing that Leon hated about his job is that he didn’t know how exactly he made a difference. At the end of a good meal the punter always say
“My regards to the chef” and it’s never “My regards to the dish boy who slaved over dishes all day to make them pearly white”. In other words, did Leon actually matter at all in an environment such as this? He pondered this question further as the pain in his arm intensified on his way down to the kitchen.

Break time in work terms was like a bliss that had never before existed, Leon took a slightly bent cigarette from the silver B&H packet, as he lit it the horrid taste of chemical tar hit the back of his throat, and he took a long drag! This was a time that Leon often used to reflect on his life, either on to reflect on how bored he was. His brain was sore, it actually hurt him to think but he knew that he had to keep going, it wasn’t a war but it wasn’t exactly worth him giving up. As he strolled back up to the kitchen he could see through the window that arrogant Alan was once again trying to scab free food while Marlon shot him a look of dislike. It was clear that Marlon’s favour of this man did not run deep. Leon was just sick of the way that strolled into a kitchen and acted like he owned the place, all he wanted to do was get something and beat him round the head with it, yes that would shut that idiot up.
Leon could hear Alan’s voice echoing inside the kitchen, talking about his missus or the customers outside. It was amazing that this guy hadn’t been dismissed yet, as he stepped into the kitchen Alan turned to face him.
“Oi Leon wash that for me” Alan demanded, Leon ignored him the first time; if this guy wanted something then he would have to work for it.
“I’m busy man, could it wait” Leon asked without too much enthusiasm
“No I want it now” Alan again demanded
“He’s busy” Marlon shut him up with
“No he needs to learn exactly what his job is” Alan snapped back
That was it; Leon was going to tell this guy exactly where he stood in this kitchen. He opened his mouth and he couldn’t wait to hear what came next
“Yes Alan I’ll do it in a second” Leon replied with
Once again the words would not come; once again he was who he was. I guess it was just one of those days.