There was a lot of banter in kitchens I’ve worked in. The airport one was fascinating because it was such a mix of people. Young people filling in time before uni: students that had finished uni and were deciding what to do next. Housewives like me that could only work full time at weekends. The permanent staff were really scary. I was once accosted by one of them in the fridge room after I’d said to someone the day before that I’d never been called a ‘fart’ before. She followed me into the fridge and said, in a sinister way ‘so, you’ve never been called a fart before’. The permanent staff hated agency staff that were sometimes called in, because they were paid far more and hadn’t got a clue what they were doing. The big threat was being sent to the pot wash if you weren’t up to the conveyor belt work. It was a constant threat hanging over us. I remember saying to someone once, it can’t get worse than this to which he replied ‘ you could get sent to the pot wash’ (cue that Spanish Inquisition music). I once sliced my finger open when cutting up lettuce(still got the scar). No one was bothered about my poor finger, just the fact that I’d ruined a whole sink full of lettuce. As for the pub kitchen I worked in: all sorts of intrigues going on there..affairs etc.
