We Hope This Doesn’t Ring A Bell For You

When I was twenty, I was working in a restaurant as a waitress. The chef was a strange guy with many really disturbing stories to tell. I did my best to keep things civil despite him creeping me out and him having a very short fuse.

One particular night, we were short of staff so I was the only waitress. We were under the pump and I was running to and from the kitchen to get food out and dirty dishes cleared away. He was well aware that I was doing everything I could but chose that moment to go on a power trip.

The chef had a bell that he rang every time an order was up. I, like many in the service industry, was Pavlovian trained to get my a**e to the kitchen quick smart when I heard the bell. This particular night, he was giving it a pounding, which was starting to get on my nerves because I was only humanly capable of so much. I hit my limit when, at some point, I was stuck dealing with a customer for a minute and he just went to town on that bell, dinging it repeatedly every few seconds until I could make it back to the kitchen.

It was a rowdy restaurant and the kitchen was a bit separated from the tables, so the customers probably didn’t register the bell but I was acutely tuned to it.

I was absolutely fuming but knew no good would come from a discussion as I’d already told him that I was doing everything as fast as possible, not that he couldn’t have noticed that himself. So, in the red haze of fury, I somehow managed to finish up with the customer and very calmly walk into the kitchen, pick up the bell, and walk out with it. I walked over and placed it behind the bar. Then, I attempted to head back to the kitchen to get the food out.

The chef stormed after me, demanding the bell back from the confused barmaid, and came barreling toward me like he was going to punch me. I calmly told him again that I was doing my job as fast as humanly possible and that overuse of the bell could not make things move along faster. I truly thought he was going to hit me that night, but having the barmaid and drinks staff nearby made him think twice.

I returned to the kitchen and served the food that was waiting to go out. We didn’t speak for the rest of the evening, but he took it easy with the bell after that. And I spoke to one of my bosses later who, luckily, took my word for things, and I never saw that chef again.