Burnt Burgers

Remember when I said I would be a horrible chef? Well, I was right. The bar's cook called in sick at the last minute and they asked me to help in the kitchen. Ah... what do they not get about me hating to cook?

I would of have been happier at the bar waiting for Bill Gates wanna-bes to tip me $2 on their $4 beers, but no. (Maybe even the occasion $5 tip out of pity.) I was stuck in the kitchen flipping burgers, burning bacon, and turning rolls back and chard. I would send burgers out and within one minute they were sent right back. Half way through my shift I actually started to get the hang of all the cooking. It might not have been perfect, but it was much better than when I started.

It's 7pm and I as so happy to be home and honestly, I could go to bed right this minute. I am exhausted. Well, I might have to have a beer (or two) before I call it a night. I mean, I am not really that tired. The cooking thing should never happen again. It must never happen again.