You glide around town with your mouth open, gobbling up other peoples good ideas, re-branding and opening up your own watered down bullshit version.
Everyone has experienced this asshole at least once in their life. Could be, you had a friend in junior high that on Monday told you your new kicks were super cool, making you feel like a badass; only to show up on Tuesday with the same ones. Or say that guy at work that overheard you talking about your idea for a tasting menu. Before you tell the Chef about it…BAM! an hour later at line up Chef is praising that prick for his creative thinking. Let me tell you, in this business there is no room for "imitation is the best form of flattery."
Hospitality is a trendy, fleeting, pain in the ass cunt that doesn't give two fucks about your hard work. When a spineless person comes along, creeps around your place for a couple months, laps up your blood sweat and tears, swallows and shits out a carbon copy, you tend to get worked up.
What's hurtful is the kindness these people will show you in person. They’ll give you a reach around while stabbing you in the back. Specifically, using flattery as a tactic to get inside your head. Yes, this bothers me, too much I guess. When you put your heart and soul into something, you want, no, need to protect it . My restaurant, my creation is my cub motherfucker, I conceived it, I birthed it, I’m up all night watching over it, I have
the grey hairs to prove it and the insane look in my eyes of a parent on the brink.
This business is hard enough without the likes of you, PacMan, coming around, kissing me on the lips and jamming your sticky little fingers in my ass.
How about you fuck off back to your tired world, sit down, look around and bask in the deep dark truths about yourself. Meanwhile, in grown up land...while you’re stuck in yesterday, I’ll be right here, doing me.
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