Alex

I was becoming aware that Alex was a bit uptight, but as I was not one of his buddies, he of course just shouted at me when things got tough, and I just bit my lips into shreds not to shout back, as by now, with me doing the kitchen when it wasn't busy, I had a good idea of the stress he was under when the orders just kept streaming in. But I realized that something else was bothering him,and wished he would talk to me, but he was a very private person, and just became more and more morose as his stress levels increased.
Then one night, the kitchen being unbelievably busy, and the poor waiters running themselves into a state of panic, a batch of food ready to go out stood for a few minutes, and by now I knew that Alex got stark ravingly cross if the food gets cold, and that is why I would sometimes just take off my pinny and take it in. But this night I was too busy, as there were a lot of pizzas, and I noticed that this four plates were not being fetched, and Alex was grumbling like the daddy of Vesuvious about it, then,  his patience having been stretched to breaking point, he grabbed the plates and threw it over his head and onto the floor before taking off like a bally hurricane!For the next few minutes pandemonium reigned, as Joe and his staff came running in to see what the roaring was all about, but Alex had enough, and he just disappeared into the night never to came back!
A very sour faced Rosanne had to come and take over, as I was just not up to doing a hundred meals in about three hours, but we got through the night, Rosanne using some pretty interesting language, but when Chris, one of the waiters came in to ask her what was in the cranberry sauce that went with the venison medalions, she flipped her lid, and yelled at him to ask the people what the f....k did they think could be in f.... g  CRANBERRY sauce!, and this she spit out so loudly that the whole hotel could hear her!
She was actually quite sloshed, as she was sitting in the pub with her usual Saturday mob when she was called, and I marvelled at how efficiently she could prepare and cook dishes for a table of eight, every single one being a different dish. How she remembered for instance when to put the different steaks, one rare, two well done, another one medium rare on the grill at just the right time, and that when she was in a nice state of  inhebriation, I just couldn't grasp, and before I knew it all the meals were done, and when Emma came in to ask if she would do another meal, Rosanne having closed the kitchen at nine sharp, shouted at Emma that if she was so eager to feed the f...g world, she should join the United Nations, or come and do the meal herself, before she left me with all the clearing up, and rejoined her pals. Emma told me that it were a tourist couple who had nothing to eat, and I went and asked Joe if I could maar do them a meal.
Alex seemingly had disappeared into thin air, but later we heard that he was working in Aberfoil where he had joined a woman that he met a few weeks earlier, and I thought that the poor soul must have been lusting after his loved one, and that was the reason for his abnormal behaviour. Strange what an over supply of testosterone can do do a bloke.
Then the search for a new chef started, and the sorry lot that sometimes arrived after having given themselves out for being better than Ramsey, just made my hair raise, as I could see, peeping around the door when Joe interviewed them over a coffee in the pub, that some of them were a scary bunch of chancers. Luckily Joe was up to snuff, or at least we all thought so when he appointed a tall mid thirty-ish man called, if I remember right, Jack, and his very sexy and very blond and beautiful wife Dawn.
Dawn was lovely, and did the bar, waitressing, and also the rooms with quiet grace, but jack was another kettle of fish as I soon realized.As he was running a guest house in the Alps before, he reckoned that doing food for a busy restaurant would be like taking candy from a baby, and the first three nights went okay, although I had to do a lot of the cooking, him being a stranger to the kitchen, and it wasn't busy, and then the week-end Rosanne, grumbling a lot came to help him over the busy times. But I had soon realized that the man had no clue about doing a busy restaurant kitchen, but not wanting to be forward, I kept quiet, but waited wit held up breathe for the first busy night without Rosanne!