THE WRITER MUST EAT -> patreon.com/trn1ty <-

| \    |   | blah!
|\ | `\|\  | the rantings and ravings
|/ |(_|| | * of a depraved lunatic

<^>

2023-10-05

Today taking my bag of trash out I noticed my old kitchen manager, one of those
partly to blame for my training, doing the same with the restaurant's trash. He
asked me if I'd heard from my sidekick using a name that while attributable to
her was not her herself - too formal and she would say in more words
incongruous [is that a word?] to her being. This was my first red flag of the
day but the person himself is a walking one his own, a Lady Gaga song glorifier
and notorious gossip not to mention lacking in empathy or humbleness, afflicted
even worse by the latter two than myself.

I cannot think of him without thinking of my training in 2021 when I was
seventeen and he in twenties and I pulled a trash can from one inaccessible
location to a better one and I by himself was pulled aside and told unkindly
not to meddle with any sort of kitchen organization whatsoever, because he was
running the kitchen and his food making ship needed to be tight and
disciplined. Perhaps this was true, but whatever discipline he taught was yet
unaware of the basics of food safety as he gripped the trash bag liner to bring
the can back and forth on wheels from under the preparation table where he kept
it, contaminating the gloves with which he would make food with the retch
byproducts from the junk we organized.

The same supposed manager, at that time technically the same role as my own
though given authority by that which did have it to give, that would tell me I
was a fool for going from chicken to beef - both cooked - without changing my
gloves and washing my hands, would go from raw meat to cooked comfortably with
contaminated tongs sitting in the no doubt E. Coli plentiful meat well
protecting food from bacteria, and do the same when tending to chicken between
frozen bird and fried. This is extremely common in food preparation and I
encourage any reader not to consume that which you did not produce or at least
prepare. I've never seen the use of preventing food from touching food when
both are flesh and both thoroughly dead and thoroughly cooked, nor have I ever
seen the sense in crossing the dead and preserved with the dead whose food
safety is preserved. Nor have I ever seen how his taking me out of line and
chewing me out for moving a trash can was justified when I was trying to
guarantee the food safety that was not my responsibility but his.

TRINITY:	She's not doing well- I thought it was kind of obvious. You
        	should talk to her yourself.
[...]:  	You and she both have this thing where you're rude- whatever, I
        	guess I'll just go fuck myself.
TRINITY:	Enjoy fucking yourself then.

And then I left on my scooter and heard him say something behind me. My
assumption though not charitable is he made a remark either about my being
transgender or being homeless, both things that while he may accept he is glad
certainly to not experience. But I can't say for sure. And I could say while I
may not have a ceiling or roof, at least I have my heart.

<^>

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