See I got this gig doing part time personal chef for a family here in the Valley. They live in a
beautiful home, atop a hill, with a foyer larger than my apartment. Marble, crystal and tassels as far as they eye can see. They have a sunken living room larger than an Olympic sized swimming pool. Cars, pools, cabanas and staff. Landscapers, assistants, contractors, messengers, housekeepers abound at different times a week. And then there's me. The Cook.
"Who'd want to kill the cook??"
"Dinner wasn't that bad." - Clue, the movie.
Crazy big home with a lot going on. And it's not that I think the family is secretive or weird, it's just that since the property is sooo large scale and has many people involved that they can't not have, a Nannycam.
Nannycam's exist for very good reasons. One, they make for great TV. Two, you can't put a price on the safety of your family. And three, you can't put a price on the safety of your family. The children are older so there is no nanny. There is plenty of cat food and I have yet to see a cat. My point? This place is BIG. So there just has to be a camera involved in the security. I've seen the keypads all around entrances and emergi-lighting as well. There are some small stickers on the window and little signage on the lawn. I can see that the place is monitored inside and out. There must be a camera in the kitchen. Why forsake this one room? Secure and safe is how it all feels I'll bet the reason is because there's a little something hidden in an alcove.
I'm not paranoid, I'm just silly. I have no issue in being watched, the family deserves every ounce of security and confidence that they want. They should have that. And I actually rather enjoy being watched, it's the performer in me. My quandry is that I didn't really realize it was happening until I was just about done for the day. And again, I'm just silly. I started the day with an inventory of every cupboard and drawer in the kitchen. No stone (or pizza stone) unturned, I was determined to find the pots and pans, the knives, the trash, the cat, the platters, the containers, the bathroom, the maid, etc etc. It's always good to figure this out yourselves as when catering so you can build your own rhythm as your work the site. I'm much better self taught than a stranger explaining it to me. ADD is soaring........what was I saying? Oh yes, nannycam. I cased the kitch. I got the lay of the land down and began cooking.
I wasn't sure on timing for the job so I had prepared much of the meals the night before. I did this in preparation for the prophecy......no, I did this to give myself an edge. I had my two dinners, lunches, soups and snacks done in no time. But how it must have looked was comedy. Now I'm usually pretty easy going, but I hadn't gotten the 'hall pass' to use the toilet yet, and this may seem silly but consider the author. People are odd when it comes to natural functions and I wasn't sure where the staff 'hung out' (lol). Until I get the golden word, I don't like to assume. This is odd of me but, whatever. I'm doing the pee pee dance to the easy listening radio station that they had playing on the kitchen sound system. I'm wiggling, I'm giggling, I'm even touching myself to keep it comfy not to stimulate. I'm pogo-ing on one foot by the end. All the while I'm eyeing the ten foot door suspiciously closed and so close to my view. Not in the kitchen proper I didn't feet it covered in pre shift casing of the joint. I'm sure my heightened state of awareness stemmed from this as well. Would the Nannycam show my dancing as fairly and honestly as it would on an episode of 'So You Think You Can Dance'?
I was wrapping up the food and cleaning my station when it came to me that it would be cute to toss the bottoms of some baby bok choy into the trash from across the room. I never considered a career in the NBA and it was always an effort for Sista Sal to get me to come outside and play 'Horse'. For me I'm happier buying baskets than making them. Ah well. First one was so close but hit the side of the pull out bin and to my delight, exploded. Cabbage shrapnel made for a vegetable firework. I was hooked. The next went in, nothing but nylon. The next missed to the side (got cocky). The next missed to the other side, and I searched my board for more to toss. "Such a child..." I scolded myself. As I journeyed around the marble island to the basket I thought it would be hilarious if they came into the kitchen at this time, or even if they were to have seen it some how. Getting closer to realization....
Food was done and put away. Notes for reheating and ingredients were written and left for review. Bags were packed and ready as Poppins' were, by the door. The kitchen restored to previous order with no one the wiser. Or so I thought. I called for the clients, up the kitchen stair well they'd used earlier to no response. There was a lot of noise from the landscapers installing I don't know, a rainforest's maybe. I went to the foyer and did the same call but louder. No answer. I was so not going up the stairs, any of them and I so was not going to play this game. I did a big, "Helllllooooooo, (clients names). Time to say Goooood Daaaayyyyy". And they came forth, a-giggle from the call and from the flurry of activity on their account. We were to rendezvous back at Point A. It hit me as I saw the ginormous flat screen, their technology was large and set away. It was built in to an immense wall. The stereo likewise was sequestered and I remembered I didn't actually know where the music in the kitchen was coming from. It all seems so, hidden so, sly. Moment Of Realization. I've been a jackass for the last three hours and they probably saw the whole thing. This amused them to the point of giggles for our first (I hoped) Good bye. I knew that my behavior was for the most part fine, but I wondered if I had picked my nose, scratched my ass or tasted with the same fork twice. Why it hadn't crossed my pee-brain sooner was beyond me, and driving me to hilarity. I put on my game face and went to the kitchen.
All was cool, the clients hungry and me out the door. Our goodbyes were pleasant and my stamp on the kitchen, unmarred. They looked forward to the next episode with smiles and sent me on my way without an ill word. I laughed all the way through the gates and down the hills. I knew they would eat well but didn't count on a show included in my fee. How I get through life should be studied. This was a Lucy episode. Next weeks menu............open faced sandwiches and peasant under glass.
Monkey Monkey.