It was Saturday night again, Susan was not coming in, and Lorna and self was in the kitchen, me cooking, she assisting. It was just not easy working between Lorna and Mary, who was doing the waitressing, and who, after having worked there so long, always had a wee egg to lay about everything.
She insisted on calling me Hen, a name people use as a kind of expression of goodwill, and I was now quite used to it, but I must say, when she first called me that, I was a bitty startled. As I said, after so long being friend,  as well as employee to Lorna, she was aquainted with all aspects of the hotel, except that she couldn't cook, but that did not stop her from interfering in all that was done in the kitchen when she was around.
I was looking for a specific plastic cannister one day, when she looked at me in a puzzled way with her big brown eyes, and asked me what I was looking for. On answering that I was looking for a plastic container, not mentioning that I wanted a specific one, she threw her arms in the air, looked at me in the greatest astonishment, then waved her hands around the storeroom where umpteen containers were packed in neat rows, before telling me that the whole one wall was stacked with plastic containers, and if I would only look, I will see that! She then flung out of the storeroom, sure to be telling Lorna that her assistant chef was either blind or stupid, as she stood looking at all that containers, but didn't see them!
But this night that I am at now was a bally nightmare, and when we got an order for venison medalions, the evening got really bizarre! Venison medalions are very thin, and should not be overcooked, so as always Lorna was waiting for my veg and chips to be ready before frying them for a few seconds on each side, and the timing had to be right, as the moment all my stuff was on the plate, the medalions had to be ready to go on. Susan and self had this down to a tee, and between us everything was always ready on time, but Lorna of course had to remind me every few seconds to tell her when the stuff was getting close to being done,and I just gritted my teeth and kept my pose.
But then Mary came back from the diningroom to fetch the food, and I had just told Lorna to start on the medalions, and was busy plating up the veg and chips, all going so smoothly, until Mary said in her hoarse voice: 'No, no Hen, the meat is always plated up before the chips!', and poor Lorna who was concentrating desperately to get the medalions just right was thrown off balance for a second, and as the meat is usually dished up first, she got a bitty confused and asked me in her thin voice what the hell I was doing.
I was so ready to bash her over the head with a plate, but realized that she was confused by Mary's remark, so I just said in my calmest voice that the plates were ready for the medalions, and that brought her back to reality, and the medalions were safely plated!