An Evening In The Life Of A Kitchenhand
I enter the premises of a quietly running Irish Pub.They said they needed someone because they are short-staffed.Quietly I put my apron on and survey the crowd....
Glasses on tables occupied by casually dressed patrons watching the rugby game silently
as I keep busy doing the dishes,keeping occupied.
The succulent smell of a roast cooking could be smelled outside in the portable oven,
Almost instantly, the roasts are ready and as I cut the meat,it falls away like silk
falling away from fabric...in thin,paper like strips.Ahhh,the life of a kitchenhand.
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