I was the Executive Chef for a group of high end topless bars. Sounds like a demotion from my high pressure, highly competitive fine dining experience but I had 11 kitchens under my supervision, was actually paid accordingly, was given bonuses every time the kitchens turned a profit which was every quarter, and was well liked and appreciated by the owner. (Spiros. What a doll!)
I was of equal or higher rank than the General Manager of the clubs. How I managed my staff, menus, and food service operations was my business. Running a bar, managing entertainment, etc was a GM s job. There were areas of overlap, like server training.
The GM of the flagship club, where I officed out of and was my “home” kitchen, was a Fred Flintstone looking weasel named Greg…who loathed the fact that he had no say in my part of the company. He hated that I hired an overweight assistant (female) and a gay (male) sous chef. He hated me. Everything about me galled him. But the owner loved me, and the food was beautiful and profitable and Greg was wise enough to keep out of my way. He knew the owner would not choose him if a choice was to be made.
One day I was rendered unable to function. My ol man died on the side of the highway 22 miles from home. It was a beautiful day. I had kissed him good bye that morning. He wore his new helmet, on his new Deuce.
And was dead. Boom. Outta the pool.
I called work as a courtesy, to inform old Greg I was taking some time off, and he said,” For what?” I responded that he didnt have any reason to ask, but since he did, well my spouse was dead on the side of a highway and I was handling the arrangements. Not even an insincere “I am sorry", not Greg. He launched into a speech along these lines,
“ I think you need to cover your shifts before I can allow that. He’s dead, huh? Are you sure? Because if I find out you're lying, I can't protect you from the consequences. So are you telling me the truth?”
I calmly told him to go fuck himself in no uncertain terms. I asked my wonderful sous chef, a former hacker, to take Greg down in the most public way possible. I called my beloved boss, Spiros, and told him I had to quit for the foreseeable future. He cried about my ol man. He told me to come back whenever I was ready.
Greg called me the next day FURIOUS .
When he typed in his code to the company intranet hard core gay male porn flooded every screen in the company with the origin being Greg listed in the corner. Greg was a homophobic asshat so it was very offensive to him
Spiros fired him for it. I think he heard about what Greg had said to me, and he used the porn virus as his reason.
Love you Spiros.
EDIT: I HAD SOME REALLY NASTY TROLL TROUBLES IN THE COMMENTS HERE ALLEGING THAT I LIED IN TELLING THIS TALE.
FOR THE RECORD, I DID NOT.
I BLOCKED THE JERK IN QUESTION FROM COMMENTING FURTHER. AND I SENT OLD GREGG TO ESCORT HIM TO GREGGS PLACE WHERE HE CAN DRINK BAILEYS FROM MY SHOE AND SHAVE HIS MIGHTY MANGINA.
WISHING ALL WELL, AND HAVE A BALL. LIFE IS A GREAT PLACE.
XO