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AN AMERICAN ACCOUNT OF PARIS : LIVING, EATING, AND TRYING TO SPEAK FRENCH

Saturday, November 5, 2011

HALLELUJAH!

Today I am officially FREE! After a few stolen pow-wows with Cecilia, we both decided that today neither of us would go into work. We were getting our paychecks and thus had no reason to continue subjecting ourselves to the torture of the pastry shop. We also both felt that just failing to come in was exactly what those horrible people deserved. Plus, we're cowards. But really,  why should we respectfully resign when they treated us like dirt? We only wished that we could see the angry aftermath of our mutiny.




The actions of the day certainly supported this decision. As usual things were hectic. And as usual my name was on the list next to the three most boring jobs possible. 1) Wrap the entremet in bags, 2) Segment oranges, 3) Peel clementines. The exhilaration of the upcoming tasks was almost unbearable.

Midway through peeling clementines I was asked to stop what I was doing and search out thirteen one inch rimmed trays. This took some time since they were all over the kitchen and being used for other things. When this was done I was asked to spray them and line them with plastic. As usual they didn't tell me what these were for and just used me as a meaningless tool. After this I was then asked to finish some tarts, to pack some boxes, to wrap some cakes, so the clementines were looking like they were going to be waiting around a while. So I tucked them in the fridge to hang out while I finished these other tasks. And at some point I was deemed, "in the way," and so I was sent upstairs to the little nook where chocolates are usually done.

This did not bother me in the slightest because it meant I got to work where no one could see me (not even the surveillance cameras) and so could take my sweet ass time and savor the last few moments of box packing that I would be forced to endure. As I was innocently putting sable into plastic tubes I heard the sweet shrill of my boss yelling from downstairs, "LORA!!" "Oh joy!" I thought to myself, "what could I have possibly done to warrant this glorious beckoning?" I ambled downstairs and met my boss who was red faced and flustered. He took me into the walk in and pointed at a box of figs on a tray. He then lectured me on how figs were never to be stored like that and that I needed to fix it right away. How exactly this was my fault, I don't really know, but I did what he asked without complaint.




A half hour later I was still packing sables into tubes and heard yet another loud cry of my name. What was it this time? I'd only done a few things that day anyway, and I don't see how I could have messed them up. But apparently anything can be considered a fuck up of grave importance to a lunatic. This time it was the clementines. I guess that having two separate bowls of clementines was worth disrespecting me and shouting out my name like I'm some dog that's taken a dump on the carpet. My boss lectured me on how this was ridiculous. Oh the humanity! When I tried to explain that I had been stopped mid-peeling and wasn't finished with the clementines he cut me off immediately. I only was allowed to say, "Oui, mais...(yes, but)" when my boss shouted back, "NOT YES BUT, YOU SAY YES CHEF!!" I apologized and thought to myself how happy I was that I was going to fuck this dickwad over the very next day.




The rest of the shift was uneventful and I could not help but fantasize about laying in my bed the next morning instead of working in that hell hole. As I was packing boxes full with macarons, a duty that I partake in every day, my boss actually started helping me. When I looked at two of the boxes he had packed I noticed that they didn't have a sheet of parchment on top of them like they should. But I figured that since he was the boss and all he probably knew what he was doing so I asked him if that was how they were supposed to be. He chuckled and said in english, "Giggle, I forgot!" I mentally rolled my eyes at the hypocrisy of it. Here I had previously been torn a new one for having two bowls of peeled clementines in the fridge and yet when he "forgets" to do something right it's a light hearted laughing matter. WTF?

Eventually he left me to finish the macaron packing and wrapping. I sung hummed happily to myself the "Fuck You" song by Cee-lo and thought of how lovely life was going to be. Finally I would get to enjoy Paris! Finally I would be eating quality macarons instead of just packing this sub-par ones into boxes every day. When my boss came down to leave for the day he handed me my check and said, "A demain!" I smiled to myself. I was free. And "a demain" means, "see you tomorrow" and I loved the irony of it.

1 comment:

  1. love the naked freedom picture-suanne

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