2 funny as hell Confessions

So, you want to hear confessions, huh? Okay, here are two that I have been keeping a secret because they happen at a place I used to work at. I don’t want to say the name of the location because these f#ckers could get mad, and I might get in trouble. So, I’ll call the workplace “Hellhole Food Place.” I worked in the kitchen as a food prep.

One of the perks of working in the kitchen was that there were a lot of hot guys coming in and out all the time.

There were times when it was so slow that work would run low, so we would have to find things to do. So, my good gay guy friend (I don’t want to use his name, so I’ll call him “Q” because I don’t want him to get in trouble.) “Q” and I would purposely put quarters on the floor to watch the guys bend over and pick up the quarters. Me and “Q” would giggle quietly. Ok, so it cost us both ten dollars a week, but it was worth it. I guess you could say we were helping the servers on a slow day.

But, wait there is more. Banquets and buffets are a big deal at this place. So, an hour after the “Hell hole food place” finishes, all the food goes into the walk-in refrigerator to be picked up and thrown away. I would go to the sections in the walk-in refrigerator and eat as many cookies, cupcakes, and other pastries as possible. I would try to hide some of the food in sections to take home. Hell, there were times I would put them inside my bra. I hated when the crumbs would fall into my bra; it was super itchy and cold. Plus, my breast looked funny, like one boob was bigger and pointier while the other boob looked soggy or flat. One time, one of the managers that were a total @$$hole (yes, he was, and I can’t use his name even though I would love to express what a useless abortion of nature he is, so I will just use his initials J.W. and the word @SShole as his last name) J.W. @$$hole walks in I pretend I was looking for something. I was chewing my cookie fast when J.W. @$$hole asked me what I was doing. He knows I hate him, so I look at him annoyedly and respond, “What am I doing? I’m hunting wabbit!” He wasn’t amused, so; I walked out while he was talking.

It may sound like I was stealing. I was only doing that because anything left was thrown out instead of giving it to the employees or staff. So, if you think I was stealing. I want to believe I was taking my share.

So, there were my confessions. I am glad I no longer work at that job. I was not too fond of it; the pay was minimum wage, and the company expected you to buy the kitchen essentials you needed to work with, and they didn’t remember you. The hours suck, and the management was and still is full of “Pinked toe, yellow liver, noise picked, buck-tooth stupid, idiotic, bone-head, pencil neck, I-guess-you’re-not-as-smart-as-you-look, insecure, psychopath, lunatic, bitches” yes, I am serious, and no I’m not joking, I hated that damn job.

But, it was a great place to get material for stories. Don’t get me wrong. The site has good food, and the male servers are still good-looking as the dessert menu is “sweet and delicious,” like chocolate cake, cheesecake, and ice cream.