Let me open your eyes so you can watch my story visually unfold.
Take a walk with me friend, through the corridors of my different hand painted, segmented front covers. I get to know you more, while walking I describe the concepts of the many colorful ideas I etched on an once blank canvases as we pass through.
I say to you “Here it is.”
I grab your arm as we walk into this front cover, sparking my story to life.
A frosty morning has begun during the middle of the winter months. Christmas is approaching, people are becoming busier getting presents for their loved ones, spending the money they have saved, in these city’s shops. George a young man, short dusty blonde hair, with green eyes, he is wearing black jeans, a black coat, as he cycles to his job as a chef in a chain restaurant, that is situated on the outskirts of the cities town center, near the river Cam. He has ear phones in listening to songs that are from his biking playlist that he has made, while he is peddling his dark blue bike, wearing a black with red trim branded red tick backpack, down a back street. On his left there are people’s homes, in the middle of the row is a silver saloon car, pulling in to a dentist clinic. On his left is an overgrown stream, with a big backed television that someone had dumped in there the evening before. You know the ones you have to take the front window out to get the fucker in your home. A Moorhen swims around the bulky plastic tele with its young in pursuit.
*Beep!* “Vehicle Reversing!” *Beep!*
Comes from a dustbin lorry at the bottom of the road, two men jump out from the cab wearing a hi-visible jacket, over their Cambridge Council uniforms, with thick brown gloves on. George pulls in between two parked cars, while the dustbin lorry reverses past, as the Councilmen go get the blue bins, that are street side for them to be emptied. A smartly dressed young lady is leaving her home, beside George who smiles at her, she smiles back at him as he bikes off to carry on his journey to work.
George has stopped at some traffic lights. He goes to press the button as a black car drives past, followed closely by a blue car, he notices out the corner of his eye, a young boy holding his mothers hand going to do the same as him. So George lets the young boy press the button, looking towards the young mother, they are both wrapped up warm for the cold day ahead, she has ahold of a grey pram, that is transporting a fairly big flat screen television empty packaging, would be surprised if it wasn’t her fella that got rid of their old television, she is most probably going to dump that somewhere along her journey. The traffic starts to slow as the light changes to red, the green man appears. George carries on biking past the young mother, smiling at the young lad, to a bus stop that has four different cultured people waiting for their way of transportation, beside them is a pub but it’s a bit early for people to be having a good time in there, he bikes past on to Mill Road, if you live in this city you know it’s busy, a road that never sleeps, if you have tried to cycle down there it’s as a tight a nuns c…, I try to avoid this road at all costs but if my bike breaks, then it’s the number 2 bus that travels down that route into the town center, but be warned it can take an hour to get there but I’d much rather bike a different route, I can be in there in 15ish minutes.
George cycling down the path on Parker’s piece, from mill road to the hotel at the end. He cycles between a few pedestrians, past an over flowing bin, even though it’s getting colder, people will still go out to get pissed at the clubs also pubs, especially women, dressed in next to nothing, while it’s minus 1 out, I’m not complaining I’m just letting you know what I have seen, he slows down to let another cyclist pass across him, on another path, cycling towards Grafton or maybe midsummer. George carries on cycling towards the hotel, passing another over flowing bin with rubbish. Some of the shit you see on the streets when cycling is mad, somethings would make you chuckle.
George is cycling through the town center, it is a quiet start to the day, but I am sure the historical streets will become busy when the afternoon following into the evening hits considering it is Friday, most peoples pay day, especially when the students come to life. A homeless couple sleeping in a tattered green sleeping bag, under the entrance of a night club. That’s not the only homeless people in the city there are loads of them, you know why because the council are pound pinching bastards, that have no care about people’s well beings as long as they're getting money for the government, the people who work for the country’s councils should ask themselves who are they really benefiting. Then they wonder why there is all kinds of different money making crimes it’s because of your fucking greed, idiots, if we acted like them we would be in prison. Anyway dont get me started on what i think of them. George carries on cycling past rows of shops, that multi-cultured people are walking past or going in, a few coffee cafes have people in drinking or eating snacks. Biking towards a smartly dressed skinny geezer shouting “Big Issue!”
He stands outside a massive chain supermarket, I can’t say the full name but let’s call it S_burys, you can fill in the blank. George stops at S_burys, getting off, placing his bike beside a black metal bike rail, that has a couple of bikes locked to, it even contains a locked bike frame, missing it wheels along with the seat.
He walks in asking to the Big Issue seller “How’s it going Lee? Keep an eye on that bro.”
Lee with gelled combed black hair with Big Issues magazines in a plastic wallet responds saying “Not bad, will do mate.”
George walks in to get a drink along with a pack of smokes.
George is locking his bike up with a black D-lock, he takes his key from the lock. Looking down the street noticing his restaurants bins have been taken in. He puts his keys in his jeans pocket, with his rucksack on, that has his uniform in. He walks to the front of his restaurant which is called David2Marseille. George has also worked next door in Café Red, beside that is a brassiere called Côte. David2Marseille is empty from customers, because it doesn’t open for another two hours, apart from the kitchen porter behind the bar making a coffee. The other two restaurants on the other hand have customers in them because they do breakfasts along with open earlier at 9 where George’s opens at 12, but he starts at 10, but at Café Red, you would start at 8 until 10-11 at night, fucking long shifts to be on your feet for, Saturdays are horrible shifts in both restaurants, I’m sure in Côte as well.
George says “Morning bro, I will take a cup please, make sure you sprinkle chocolate over the top.”
The kitchen porter is from the Czech Republic, he has dreadlocks that go down to his lower back, dressed in light blue jeans with a white t’shirt on, with a couple of holes in. His name is Andrej.
He responds saying “Yeh mon, sure. Chef is in the back, rolling.”
Now you shouldn’t judge a man by his speech or the way he looks, but you would be right if you thought he’s a stoner, to the point a couple of the funny fags filled with the devils lettuce don’t do much to him anymore. George carries on walking past rows of tables with chairs tucked underneath.
He responds saying “Oh right bro, don’t forget two sugars.”
George is walking to the back bit where more booths are, salt alongside pepper grinders, with a big bottle of chili oil sit, huddled on top in the middle of the tables, along with a steak knife next to a fork, sit on top of white napkin either side if the tables. Some Jamaican dance hall music playing from within the kitchen. He pokes his head in to see where the head chef is, but can’t see anyone just a mobile speaker, on top of a chest freezer. He carries on walking past tattered framed mirrors on the wall for decoration, also a massive clock on one of the walls with black hands, like a person on JSA they don’t work. He pulls open the glass door to the outside part of the restaurant, that has dark wooden decking with plastic dark grey table, that have not been set up because of the weather not being the sunniest. He opens a light brown garden gate to his left side.
The Czech Republican head chef is rolling a long cigarette on the table, with a wink. In the corner beside the restaurants green bins, there is a building behind that, with windows equally separated, if you look over the bricked wall, a massive drop to the buildings underground car park with a delver metal retractable door. There is a plastic tub on the table with darts inside, dirty coffee cups sit beside the tub, on the grey garden table.
George says asking “Yo bratr od jiné matky, co se děje?”
In English he said “Yo brother from different mother, what’s happening?”
The head chef looks surprised while bumping fist with George, that is unwrapping his box of smokes, to flip two over out of superstition, it is supposed to be good luck, when they done ten boxes, it would be one for ten, two for twenty.
Chef is a skinny guy with black hair also dark eyes, he is in his mid-thirties.
The head chef responds saying “I will reply in English because if I say in Czech, you won’t understand, but not bad though considering your accent bratr.”
George lights his smoke with a red lighter, which he puts the packet alongside the lighter, back in his pocket while the head chef licks the rolling paper. After smoke leaving Georges mouth.
He responds “Yeah, Jackson has been teaching me bro, fuck I was saying this all night, so I didn’t forget.”
Now Jackson is someone you will meet later mate, he is the head chefs younger bratr (Brother). He is a funny guy also a fucking hard worker, he is a good chef, just a brilliant guy to be around, positive vibes.
The wooden door opens, Andrej walks over to the table with a black serving tray that he places down, three cappuccinos sit on top. Chocolate sprinkled all over the place, there is more on the tray than on the foamy milk, but George won’t complain not if it is free, the best things are.
George breathing out smoke while asking “What one is mine bro?”
Andrej response is “Any one brother, they all have the same amount of sugar.”
Chef takes a few tokes of the king-skin roll up after passes it to Andrej. While George picks up a cup, at the same time asking, “Quick match?”
Chef responds asking “Around the world?”
The battered dart board hanging on the wall that is beside the door.
George nods while saying “Oh yeah baby, let’s do this.”
Andrej sits down on a plastic chair while saying “I will just watch this one.”
George walks over to the dartboard, taking out the three darts that are scattered around the board.
While he says to Andrej “Kočička.”
Chef laughs while he takes his fancy darts out from a small black case
Chef saying “Check these out bratr, they come yesterday.”
He passes them to George, after he takes a sip from the middle cup. George is nodding while looking at them, he passes the TARGET DAYTON FIRE GT 95% TUNGTEN STEEL TIP darts back.
George asks “They look nice, have you played with them yet?”
He stubs his cigarette out while Chef is smoking the spliff, responding “Not yet, I am going to christen them now.”
George asks “How much they set you back?”
Chef responds saying “Should have been about 120 but I got them for 50 quid.”
George just about to throw a dart to get warmed up but is stopped, as he looks at the chef surprised, that is nodding.
George responds saying “Fuck that, I don’t like spending that much, I have trouble if I spend 60 on trainers.”
Andrej says “Same here bratr, I make shit last especially trainers, i have had this t'shirt for years.”
George fist bump in agreement with Andrej while George is nodding his head.
George throws a few practice shots at the dart board while Chef sorts himself out.
George lost the match of darts, I don’t want to make excuses for him but it’s because of lack of practice, compared to the head chef that has a dart board at his home. Drum ‘n’ base is blaring from the kitchen. George walks out from the door opposite the kitchens entrance, wearing his all black chef uniform. He is adjusting his black chef hat, that has a white cutlery crest in the middle. Through the door that George just walked out of, is a door that leads to an alley where the chefs or waiting staff go smoke in busy times, also the office where the manager is most of the time. The manager is a Polish guy called Chris, his assistant is a French lady called Aida. She passes George while he is walking into the kitchen to start prep for the day, they exchange smiles in passing. At the front is the kitchen porter, who is sweeping the restaurants floor around the tables legs. George is rolling up his sleeves as he enters inside the kitchen.
The head chef passes George a piece of paper as he passes the pizza section. After Chef switches on the three tier stone pizza oven that he has just cleaned. George looks at the piece of paper while the head chef opens the big grey door for the walk in fridge, that is opposite twinned, deep silver sinks. Behind George is a six slated grill, which is sandwiched between two twinned fryers, also the pizza oven. The head chef reappears from the walk-in, while he is nodding to drum ‘n’ base beat, he passes him a plastic container full of burgers, but they are not ordinary burgers, they are lamb burgers.
George says asking “Yeah seems simple enough, bottom bun, squirt of pesto mayo, lettuce, slice of tomato, burger with guacamole on top with three crispy onion rings, closed with the top bun, on a tray with fries also a pot of relish. This the months special bro?”
The head chef is pouring pizza sauce in a saladette big metal container, that has a 2oz red handled ladle sticking out from within, it is beside a big metal container full of tiny mozzarella cubes, the cheese alongside the sauce act like a divider, because in smaller rectangular metal pots in three rows, on the left is veg on the right is meat, four fridge compartments underneath, next to the fridge unit in the corner is the marbled slab where they make the dough circular.
The head chef responds saying “Yes also there is a veggie pizza.”
George slices the lamb burger packaging open, he puts the red handles knife down on the red chopping board. That is on top of the meat fridge that is underneath the grill. George is putting blue gloves on to sort the burgers out so he can put the lamb burgers inside.
While he responds saying “Oh right bro, I think the lamb burger will sell well.”
George chucks the empty packaging in one of four grey plastic bins dotted around. There is a six burner stove to the right side of the fryers that belongs to the pasta section. A massive pot of water on in the right hand corner of the stove, which is for bringing pasta up to temp, with eight metal pasta pots hanging on the edge of the canopy. Against the wall beside the stove is the same type of fridge as the pizza section, in fact the grill section has the same type of fridge. In the corner is the kitchen porter section, the big dishwasher is currently filling up, a doorway beside which leads to two chest freezers which is for making desserts, which the KP does, he also gets paid in peanuts. Now I have shown you around my second home, but just for your information there are no windows or doors that lead outside, this kitchen has two doors one that anyone that works in this place comes in, which is a swinging white door, the other one is beside the walk-in fridge which leads to the customer toilet, also drink stock room. I can tell you it gets hotter than Satan’s nut-sack mate in the summer, especially on the grill section, sandwiched between them two boiling section for a thirteen hour shift, you’re having Satan’s nut-sack, fucking hell, George start to switch on the grill to carry on setting up for the day, now Fridays are funny days because it can be busy during the day to evening or dead during the day then at 6 or 7, it fucking explodes into life.
Merci pour la lecture!
Nous pouvons garder Inkspired gratuitement en affichant des annonces à nos visiteurs. S’il vous plaît, soutenez-nous en ajoutant ou en désactivant AdBlocker.
Après l’avoir fait, veuillez recharger le site Web pour continuer à utiliser Inkspired normalement.