April 14, 2009
Would you take a job as a short order cook in a diner for a year with the sole purpose of spitting in every dish that leaves the kitchen?
I know fuck all about cooking, so if you walk into your local diner and see me in the kitchen wearing a hairnet or a little paper cap or some crap, and I’m putting food in the window and ringing that little bell and yelling “Pick up!” you need to immediately GET THE FUCK OUT OF DODGE. No, really, I mean it. Because I am going to spit in your food. And then, after about a year of all that spitting, I’m going to have a million dollars. I’m not going to be a real asshole about it and hock a loogie right on top of your pancakes or anything like that – I don’t think I need to get all extravagant and show off-y about it. But there will be some saliva involved. Maybe I’ll just drool into the pancake batter or whip some of my spit into the butter I cook your eggs in. You won’t even know it’s there, and you probably won’t give a shit anyway, because every time you come to the diner it’s, like, 4 a.m. and you’re drunk and sloppy and drooling on yourself anyway. You’ll probably be like, “This food is delicious. My compliments to the chef.” And I’ll feel a little guilty, but also a lot proud. Because I’ll know that my spit is the secret ingredient that makes every dish better. And that will be our little secret. Except that you won’t actually be in on it, but whatever. Anyway, it’ll be a much nicer secret than what the delivery guy put in your food last week. That was just straight up nasty.