WRITINGS

Foreign: The cook: Interview


I guess the most happy is when i had money.
As soon as i arrived in this country,
I began to make lots of it.
I ran up the river,
so to speak. a proverb of my country.
I remember losing everything to gambling.
I had been on the street rumbling around, here and there.
I did a lot of stupid things and ended up incarcerated.
Jail seemed nice at first. The welcome party was great.
I had my own room.
American jails are nice, the walls are cushioned.
Then I found out about the theatrics of it all.
I would sit at my table and eat, Tommy would get on top
of the table
and sing
Shirley Temple,
Wendy would crawl underneath the table tickling
everyone's feet,
Johnny had is arms tied in a cross most of the time.
(especially when he was loud)
My personal doctors made sure i was fit and healthy,
giving me lots and lots of vitamins and medicine i suppose.
It reminded of my life, being pampered.
I didn't tell you about my own doctors?
Well anyway, i was released after twenty years.
I'm old.
Wasted, i feel.
My accent is bad.
I know, my accent is bad, can you understand me?
I found a job at this restaurant because i was eating there a lot
I love making food now.
Will you excuse me? I gotta get back to work.
"hey steven would you please tell the family their food is ready? Go and set up the chairs, the table, the plates. Make sure the kids sit down at their own table, and keep them company. It'll look good for us. We'll be paid well."