A temper of a cheft

My heart was pounding faster than usual, pumping fresh new blood throughout my body, my mouth was taking in fast-strong-and-deep breath, my legs were running weightlessly downhill, my arms bent into L shapes, swinging back and forth by the sides. Wondering how late I was, I paused my left arm infront of my chest, as usual, to look at my red-Swatch, while my legs remained in their cyclical movement. I sweared because it was empty, my watch was not on my wrist, its was lying in the drawer of my table back home.

Supressing my curiosity on the time, I ran until I reached my work place.

I was having a hardtime earlier that day, well... actually... been having some hardtimes lately. I wasnt feeling good, in fact, I was moody. I slowed down abruptly as I enter the restaurant, trying to walk like a normal people, while actually, I was breathing in with an enormous amount of energy, trying to expand my nosles to its limit and suck empty the air in the restaurant. I saw Errol, said hi and looked away, saw Hayley, said hi and she looked away, I didnt. she was gorgeous. Finally, moment of truth, I saw Lee, the cheft, he did not look pissed. I was relieved.

I pulled out my dark green apron, and started my routine.

It all went well at first, everyone was busy. Garlic bread, calamari entre, beef lasagna, chicken rissoto, seafood velvet, scotch fillet... after a few tables, the cheft suddenly screamed. It wasnt a scream of fear, neither was it a scream of excitement, rather, it was a scream of anger, of hate, of frustration. He forgot about the fish-of-the-day-with-mango-salsa in the oven. it was over cooked. Out of frustration, he said "ah... fuck it..." and ordered me to serve it anyway. the fish sat under the heat-lights, waited for roughly 5 minutes before Hayley came and pick it up for the customers. As she was walking away, the cheft suddenly decide that he will make another one. he was mad.

it all went wrong after that.

the cheft was showing his temper, yelling at everyone in the kitchen, including me. I got angry when he yelled at me. I thought it wasnt fair for him to express his anger on us when he himself did something wrong. My heart was in one hand, filled with discontentment, on the other hand, fear. "I pulled my apron off and walked out", but for money's sake, it was all just in my imagination. everyone kept quiet until the end.

that night, as I crawled into my duvet, I started to think, as a person who can get really moody sometimes, I understand his feeling at that very moment, that very split second, when he wants to burst and fuck everyone up, but more importantly, I realised the feeling, of people around the cheft. moreover, people around me.

the monster inside me...