Restaurant Crack

Although I come across as being totally turned off by the Restaurant Industry, it's only the "industry" part that occupies a black, black space in my soul. I love(d) the pace, the instant gratification, the camaraderie. When a kitchen and dining room are in the "zone", and things are zinging like a sewing machine, there's not a better sense of accomplishment I've ever felt. It's as addictive as chocolate covered crack. But (and you knew a but was coming, dincha?), it's also like the morning after a one-nighter. You open your eyes, and there's the zit on the butt; the noxious morning breath; the snoring. And you're snapped back to Earth, and you go back to work to get a little bit of that high you had before. Unfortunately like every addict who develops a high tolerance to their chosen drug, the highs come farther apart and harder to accomplish.

Next post will be about a couple we liked to call Mr. and Mrs. Leatherface. It will be a long story, but worth it for the sheer hutzpah, the dramatic ending, and the comedic farce it all became. Stay tuned!