For me, this means a couple of thankyous: to Steve and Caroline for their comments here - very helpful and useful and more on that in a moment; and to Marie who's taught me this evening - without enguelement - that engueuler is spelled engueuler, not engueller. Thankyou, ma petite chou-fleur.
For them, of course, it means getting your enguelage from the very first moments of the week. The sous-chef got his in by a nose over the chef. It went like this.
Me (loading the delivery van): Is Sabrina in? I haven't seen her yet.
S-C: What? Are you asleep? (makes knocking motion on my head as if to wake me)
Me: Eh?
S-C: She's here yes, in the cold room
Me: Well I haven't been there, I only asked.
S-C: (Overwhelming look of resignation on his face)
That was at 0804. At 0806 Chef, having a few minutes earlier asked me to bring up a delivery of salad leaves and, when I asked where he wanted them, having told me to put them in the cold room, then asks: Why have you put the salads there?
Me: Because you told me to.
Chef: No I didn't.
Me: Er, you did, downstairs when I was putting them in the lift.
Chef: (Doing a passable impression of the S-C's world-weary look of resignation) But François is in the vegetable room working already - why didn't you give them to him to clean?
Me: Because you told me to put them in the cold store, because if I'd given them to him and you didn't want him to do them you'd have bollocked me, and because I haven't even seen him yet this morning - I've been loading the van.
Chef: Monsieur Chris, when are you going to start using your head? When are you going to start thinking and planning?
Me: Is there anything else? I'm late already.
Chef: Why are you still here? You're late already.
Me: I'm here right now because you're talking to me.
Chef: Why are you talking to me?
Me: OK, I'm off now then.
I tell you, if it was proposed as an episode of Fawlty Towers it'd have been thrown out as too stupidly implausible.
I do think, however, that I've perfected my glazed, yes-I'm-listening-but-I'm-not-really look now. At least I hope I have.
We've also sprouted a second stagaire, a cookery student on work experience; such a post was promised me when I was first hired - now I'm told I can do it when they've finished - in two year's time. Ha. I fully expect to be here in two years, I want to say. But don't. The second stagaire appears to be called Cyril - at least, he responded to that name when the S-C used it. Unfortunately for him he has my physique, not that of young Sabrina, so he isn't going to get away with everything like she does. "Doesn't she have lovely eyes," the S-C says of Sabrina.
Harumph.
Anyway. I'm still hoping the Chef from Friday will call me and give me the job; he seemed nice enough, and I don't imagine many chefs reach into their own pockets to pay their plongeurs. And, to follow on from what Steve says, the plonge is pretty much organised as he recommends: the waitrons and the cooks deposit their stuff either in one of two soak bowls or directly into one of the two sinks filled with hot, soapy water. Everything gets scrubbed and then it all goes through the automatic dishwasher, and then has a final wipe before going on the table by the door to be carried back out to the kitchen. The whole thing works in a neat circle, with me standing in the middle. No need to move much, you can touch at least two if not all four of the walls from that one spot.
Thanks also, while I'm in a thanking mood, to Bubba who wants me to turn this into a book RIGHT NOW. He engueuled one of his staff at 0855 this morning in my honour, he says, so thanks. He, by the way, is the person to complain to if your 'leccy falls over - he's the man in charge of bringing it round to your house, so if the wires get caught in a door or something, he's the one who'll be round to fix it.
Or something like that. I know his job also involves personally berating Tony Blair but then whose job doesn't these days?
Anyway. More jobs on the ANPE site tonight so more CVs to send off too. Wish me luck.
Click here to make comments, rude or otherwise, on this stuff