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Monday, 10 September 2012

I, Jed.




Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
Scene: A college catering department, kitchen, restaurant, etc.

In the plate-wash area there is a carousel - the students place their trays on their side and Mandy takes them off when they get to her 'office'. So the day begins - Mandy releases the red STOP button, presses old GREEN and the cycle begins. It's Friday, so Mandy chooses 'London Eye' speed - why pressure yourself?

Meanwhile in the changing room, Bill, who DJ's at weekends under the name 'FutrAss', puts his cap on back-to-front. This contravenes health & safety regulations [the peak stops you getting beaned by Mandy's STOP button for one] but FutrAss does not bow to The Man and does not belong here. He is a kitchen porter but like all kitchen porters, he's waiting for Simon Cowell/Whoever runs the bangin' clubs in London/someone famous to spot him and take him away from all this.
'All this' is clearing up shit left by chefs who, to a man, don't feel they belong here either - they're waiting for those two who do 'Master Chef'/the Ramsay arsehole/a better college to spot them and take them away from all this as well.

Then there's Jed. Jed is at the peak of his powers. Jed lives twenty minutes from the college and purchased meals in the restaurant for two years before a) announcing he was not a student & b) pleading with anyone who would listen that he would love to wash up in their kitchens. Eventually there was a sufficient shortage of staff/lack of security on the door/lack of interest in H.R. and Jed was in. That was eleven years ago.

Today, like all the other days, Jed arrives in his high-viz jacket, carrying the biggest rucksack available without prescription and wearing his green protective gloves to keep his hands warm on the handlebars. In the rucksack are every item of Jed's uniform, clean or otherwise - he distrusts the locker system so carries everything backwards and forwards like a working class snail.
He works with Mike and Bill and the chefs...

Scottish John: "Blue roll up the top please, boys!"

Scottish John is the only chef in the union and hates working here as much as anyone. Because he gets time off to attend union meetings he is pretty much hated by all the other chefs. The porters love him because the other chefs hate him [making him a surrogate porter] and his scat singing is very entertaining.

Scottish John: "A-sqiddly doo-waaahhhh, bwaahhh waaahhhh Jesus, have we got gammon on again? For fuck's sake, when will they learn?"

Jed [in response to the request for blue roll]: "Okay, pardon."
Jed says "pardon" like teenagers say "like".




Mike is pondering...
"Saturday is a long, long time ago - in fact it's tomorrow!"
Jed: "What's that clicking noise, pardon? Have you got blakeys in your shoes, Mike? Pardon."
Mike: "Fuck off, Jed! I got these done proper, cost me six quid!"
Jed: "They make a lot of noise though pardon, I thought that Riverdance fella was coming just now pardon."

Mike has laid a booby trap for Jed - the waste-disposal unit has been stocked with yesterday's uncooked and unsold lasagne without being turned on, all Jed has to do is turn it on and...
*Jed is covered from head-to toe in lasagne*
Mark laughs, Jed gives the old-fashioned 'fingers' and goes downstairs to change. He replaces his dirty uniform for a clean one from the rucksack. 'Clean' in that it isn't covered in lasagne, unlike all his other clothes now in the rucksack. In no time he is back on duty, counting his changing-time as a morning break and still with lasagne in his hair.

And in Mandy's room the carousel creeps round - between the bars she ogles the builders having breakfast. Mike stops half-way across the restaurant floor, cups an ear to the speaker spewing Heart FM.
"Aw, Lady Gaga."

Scottish John: "Dandiddlygwahhhwahhh, blue roll in the middle dispenser please, boys!"
Mike: "Blue roll in the middle dispenser please, Jed."
Jed: "Okay pardon."
Mike: "Where the hell's Bill? Not still busting moves in the mirror downstairs I hope."
Mozef [enormous Hungarian head chef]: "Ah buddy - I forgots to tell - Bill hit his head on Mandy's machine, the STOP button perhaps. He go home, his mate Danny come in soon yeah?"
Mike: "Not Danny Dire? The 'best mates' are always worse, when will you lot learn?"

Scottish John: "Hot pot, boys!"
Mike: "Burnt pot, Jed."
Jed: "okay pardon."

later...

Scottish John: "Might've caught that one a little, boys!"
Mike: "Really burnt pot, Jed."
Jed: "Okay pardon."

later...

Scottish John: "Burnt pot, boys!"
Mike: "Okay, Jed - make your way quickly but efficiently to the nearest exit, then to the fire assembly point to await further instruction."
Jed: "Okay pardon."
"...Wah-wahhh, life is a bowl of cherries, sqiddlededeededee wah-ewah...."




Danny arrives.
"Hello girls! It's fucking pissing down out there and you know that. I gave up on getting the call to work - I was an hour late on Monday, again on Tuesday and phoned in sick on Wednesday, cunted I was, and they said they didn't need me yesterday. What's going on I ask myself! Anyway, girls the new regime is working - I stopped train-spotting and started at the gym as you know - the women have started to notice me, girls. They never gave me time-of-day before but all that protein I'm scoffing is doing the trick. Last night at the bus stop I tried my luck with this girl I've seen in the chippy - I don't really fancy her but you know... it was about half-ten and really cold and dark, she looked a bit scared so I said, "I'm not going to hurt you, but are you single?"
Stuffy cow got straight on her mobile and some drongo came and picked her up - might've been her dad or someone, wouldn't give me a lift. I might have to go for a foreign bird - I like foreign birds, more friendly, like. Or older. I've noticed that ladies even in their thirties are still attractive, and you know that to be true, girls......
What's going on anyway?" *huge fart*
Mozef: "Aw no, no, no, no! Not in da kitchen buddy! You can't do that in the kitchen fucksake!"
Danny: "Leave it out, Mo - better out than in and you know that."
Mozef: "Go home buddy and don't come back."

And the carousel creeps round....

Mike stops half-way across the restaurant floor, cups an ear to the speaker.
"Aw, Maroon 5."

Every now and then overtime is offered for the weekend. Mike and Jed fight to get in first because Mike has a gentle alcohol and gambling addiction and Jed still has the first pound he ever earned.

Mike: "Okay, Jed - overtime this weekend, we both know it's on offer - I can't do saturday because I'm already up at Wensum Valley. Now, I'm thinking two 'K's - one for the bus stop, one for the journey, don't want to be pissed before I get there and I don't  want to be up there all night this time. I figure one hour on the canopy, one hour on the inner layer, back to The Compasses by 11...."
Jed: "And I can't do sunday because it's the last chess match of the league season pardon."
Mike: "Aw, still playing are you? You've been very quiet about it."
Jed: "We are already assured pardon of coming bottom - we y'know what I'm sayin', haven't won a match pardon."
Mike: "Bottom eh? You'll get relegated - does that mean you have to play draughts next year?"

Mo: "John, do you want the overtimes this weekend, buddy?"
Scottish John: "No, no, no, no, Mozef - No in the boldest sans-serif font you can imagine, about six million point big with thirty or forty exclamation marks after it. Talk to me about overtime, Mozef and I'm in danger of dislocating both shoulders shrugging. Ask yourself, Mozef - do I look like a man who wants to spend any more time here than is contractually obliged?"
Mo: "It's double-time, buddy."
Scottish John: "You could square it, add a zillion noughts, then multiply it by the first number you thought of - I'd still tell you to stuff it up yer jacksie."

Mike: "What day are we open, Mozef?"
Mo: "Sunday, buddy - I need a porter for twelve hours, double-time."

Mike rubs his hands together, Jed gives him the old-fashioned 'fingers'.




The silver lids on the bain marie shimmer at the edges as the sauces within gently boil. The pulses of the bubbles send out tiny clouds of steam and a little tidal cloud goes away and back towards the minute gaps between them.

Scotish John: "Blue roll down the bottom please, boys!"
Mike: "Jed's on a break, John - he'll do it when he gets back."
Mo: "The bins need the emtying, buddy."
Mike: "That's Jed's speciality, Mozef - he'll be back in a minute."
Mandy: "Chips out! Someones knocked over the milk - can a porter come out and clear it up?"
Mike: "I'm just going for my break, Mand - Jed'll take care of that tout suite."

The carousel has stopped. An international student has placed their tray 'portrait' way-up instead of 'landscape', thus blocking the mechanism. Mandy straightens the tray and is in time to have a word with the student.
"Not doing physics then? ...*blankest of looks*... thought not."

Mike is trying to console Jed.
Mike: "Don't worry, Jed - you must have thousands in those shoe boxes under the bed, you never go out for a start."
Jed: "I do pardon - all I'm sayin' is I'm going out tonight pardon."
Mike: "Well good for you, Jed - where are you off to?"
Jed: "Never you mind!"......"pardon"
Mike: "Forget it, Jed. Why don't you sneak some of those sausages home for the cat?"
Jed: "Pardon? I told you I don't have a cat anymore - that was when I was little."
Mike: "Oh, that's right - what was it called?"
Jed: "Never you mind."
Mike: "Oh come on Jedmund. I bet it was Tiddles - all cats were called Tiddles when we were kids."
Jed: "Pardon? You're older than me aren't ya?"
Mike: "I should fucking hope not, Jed! You're fifty seven aint' ya?"
Jed: "Yeah, pardon - all I'm sayin' is that you've got some grey hair and I pardon haven't. Some say I carry my age well."
Mike: "It's the worry of wondering what you're bloody cat was called - WAS. IT. TIDDLES?"
Jed: "I'll tell you later pardon."
Mike: "Later? LATER?! It's a word, Jed! One poxy word. Unless it's Tiddles-Fotheringay-Fiddlesticks or something stupid like that. You can tell me now, please."
Jed: "Nooo! Pardon, anyway it was a girl cat."
Mike: "Jesus, Tiddley then?"
Jed: "Nooo! I'll tell ya later pardon."
Mike: "If you don't tell me now I'll shout cat names at you for the rest of the shift and turn up at your chess match on sunday holding cat names written on placards behind the head of the bloke you're playing. Mable, Gertrude, PHYLLIS, HELEN!...
Jed: "Noooo! Pardon, it begins with an  'F'."
Mike: "What? 'F' for Fluffy?"
Jed: "Yeah, pardon."
Mike: "Fiona, Fearn..."
Jed: "Noooo! It's Fluffy! Pardon."

And the carousel spins round......

Gregus, the front-of-house deputy manager walks by the kitchen into the restaurant.
Mike: "There 'e goes look - The Flying Dutchman. How come just because he's dutch he gets to wear an orange apron and we have to come dressed as the butcher's boys?"
Scottish John: "I think you'll find he's from Poland, Michael old son."
Mike: "Weeeell.... someone needs to tell him he's got the wrong apron on then and how come he gets to use one of those hands-free houndstooth phones as well?"




An international student has a question for Mandy.
"Please, what is the soup du jour?"
Mandy: "The soup of the day is tomato with basil but I'm not Du Jour - he's over there eating tomato soup with Basil, who fixes the lifts."

Jed: "Pardon, all I'm sayin' is have you seen the replacement porter yet pardon?"
Mike: "Nah, what's he like, even stupider-looking than Danny Dire?"
Jed: "No pardon, her name's Jessica."
Mike: "Jessica?! Woman?! Women can't port! Can't reach in the soup kettle, can't empty the Henny Penny, can't lift the lids on the skips, can't do Bratt Pans, talking of Bratt Pans Jedmund, they want you to do a second audition on the one you did earlier - still some gammon trauma on it apparently."
Jed: "Okay........ pardon."

Scottish John: "Hot tray, boys!"
Mo: "Hot, very hot!"
Mike: "Not so bad yourself, honky-tonk."
Mo: "Have you guys been to the office for the uniform measuring yet?"
Mike: "I'm off the peg, me - large and 32-regular - if he comes near me with that tape measure.... I remember being measured for my suit, look a million dollars in it I do, any excuse to wear it too - Christmas party, funerals, even wore it to visit my mate in hospital when he fell off his ladder. Anyway, Mo - Jed & me go home in a minute - Jed! Do some bulk-buying on those burnt pots and we'll be off...."

Mandy presses in the big red STOP button and cleans the machine, the cavalry porters for the evening shift arrive and Mike heads for the changing room. He stops half-way across the restaurant floor and cups his ear to the speaker..
"Aw, Bohemian Rhapsody."
He has a bus to catch, Jed has his bike - there is no need for them both to leave together or to converse again until tomorrow. Jed packs his entire kit into the old rucksack, turns the light off in the changing room and heads up the slope to the bike racks. In the distance he sees Mike at the bus stop as his bus turns the corner.....
Jed: "MIKE! MIKE! The bus is coming, Mike!!"
Mark looks the other way, mumbles "shut up, Jed for Chrissakes" and pretends he hasn't seen him. Why does Jed do this every night?

Jed still has his green protective gloves on - providing good grip on the handlebars and protection against the chilling air. He heads first to the chip shop - his usual order will be waiting, what he hasn't realised is that he failed to zip his rucksack securely. As he peddles, articles of kit, aprons, polo shirts and caps form a trail leading back to the college bike racks - by the time he wordlessly pays the chip shop girl his load is feather light. As he leaves the shop he looks back and sees the line of black, blue and white and motions towards re-tracing his steps - then he stops, smiles... "Too late, my time has come, body aching all the time, goodbye everybody, I've got to go..."

The staff are outside looking up at the stars...
"Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see...."
Above, across a full moon, is that the silhouetted figure of Jed on his push-bike?






Some names have been kept the same to protect the guilty.
All events and peeps are a coincidence, as they say.
Queen might be pissed off about the lyrics being used but who's going to tell them, eh?







Copyright @Bacony_ghost 2012