"Dara! Are you done with the glasses? I need to take them out NOW!" There went Seungri the Kitchen Nazy's insistent bellowing again. Ugh. I knew I was a teeny bit behind the schedule, but did he have to keep reminding about it? Elbow deep in suds, I quickly picked up the glass, and--

Ack! No! I spun around to see it fall, bounce, and finally shatter on the floor.

 

"SANDARA PARK! I have thirsty customer waiting!"

 

I jumped, dropped another glass, and cringed. This was it. I was going to be fired for sure. "What on earth is the matter with you?" All of the sudden, I was yanked away from the sink, my rubber gloves dripping all over the once-sparkling kitchen floor. I squeezed my eyes and shut and steeled myself for the worst.

 

The deafening sounds of the kitchen suddenly went mute. On top of all my problems, was I going deaf too? This job really was hazardous. I allowed myself a tiny peek through one eye and came face to face with Seungri's red, angry one. A vein in his forehead seemed to be twitching. I started to wonder how long it would take before it exploded. As I stared at it in fascination, a hiss came from his gritted teeth jolted me back to my current, embarrassing situation. "I gave you a chance because you were Mrs. Ong's niece, but this is the last straw. I can't have someone like you messing up my kitchen."

 

And there it was. The end of my career as a future Top Chef.

 

Before I could free myself from his tight grasp, he unceremoniously shoved in the direction of the trash bags and spat out, "Dishwashing duty is too good for you. I'm reassigning you to the trash. I was going to make you clean the floors, but I don't trust you with a mop."

 

I stumbled, afraid to look around, and peeled off my rubber gloves. I meekly handed them over to him, and dared one quick look around at the kitchen stuff. They were no longer staring at me or they probably never were, since they were used to Seungri's Nazy behavior. Maybe it was just my self-absorption that made me think I was always the center of attention. At least that's what my mom told me whenever she said she felt "a bout of drama coming on." Yeah, whatever. I knew something like this happened everyday. I wasn't the only one who felt the brunt of Seungri's wrath. But when it happened to you, you knew that for the rest of the day, you were toast.. your goose was cooked.. and you'd definitely jumped from the frying pan into the fire.

 

I'd been interning for a couple of weeks at 2NE1BANG, my Aunt's cozy restaurant that prided itself on serving home cooked meals with a vengeance. Everytime I stepped into it's welcoming country-inspired interiors, the mouthwatering smells of rosemary baked chicken and bread fresh out of the oven never failed to send my tummy grumbling and my hands itching to cook something.

 

Ever since I was a child, I loved being in the kitchen. Whether it was running to my mom with different ingredients as she tossed a quick meal together or mixing the batter for some of her ready mix pancakes, being in the kitchen was my safety zone. Somehow, the different combination of smells always sent my mind spiraling into a realm of tasty possibilities.

 

Because my mom eas too busy being a bank VP to really care how much her kitchen had to offer, her cooking skills were limited to premixes and easy, unimaginative recipes. It was actually her sister, my Aunt, who recognized that like her, I was enthralled by throwing different ingredients together. It was my Aunt who took my flour covered hands and showed me how they could knead sticky, gooey dough that turned warm golden brown inside an oven. So naturally, it was my Aunt who suggested I intern at her restaurant over the summer to nurture what she had planted in me years ago. Or so I thought.

 

As I lugged the humongous trash bags out the door, I realized I wasn't that upset. I'd have thought that yet another encounter with Kitchen Nazy would bring me to tears. My Aunt explicity told me not to antagonize her kitchen manager, Seungri the Nazy. But when I met him, I could tell that he loathed me on the spot. And I knew why. My Aunt adored me, and that me untouchable. So Seungri did his best to make my life miserable.

 

Yes, I was in the kitchen but I wasn't allowed to do anything interesting. Seungri didn't even let me gather the ingredients and line them up so a cook could do the chopping, dicing, or julienning. That made it so hard for me to do a good job. Plus, there was the nagging fear that maybe he saw something I didn't. Of course my Aunt would encourage me. She was supposed to do that. But what if Seungri, who had worked with a lot of chefs, actually wasn't being a and just objectively knew I couldn't measure up? I mean, really, why would he sentence me to washing dishes day in day out if I actually had talent? Scratch that. It just dawned on me how much worse my situation had become. Why would he sentence me to taking tout the trash in and day out?

 

"Dara? Is that you?"

 

I looked up with a loud grunt (restaurant trash are heavy, you know) and saw one of my college blockmates Kwon Jiyong staring at me with a look of disbelief in his face. He had a cigarette in one hand and an iPhone in the other. I wondered how he had gotten all the way to the back where the trash was just for his nicotine fix. Did smoking dull your sense of smell? I was so not glad to see him.

 

I admit that when I first saw Mateo, he was on my list as one of the cutest boys in class. But when I found out he was one of those people who willingly clustered around the little area in school where they corralled all the smokers, his cuteness rating immediately took a nosedive and my little crush was quickly extinguished. Which is what I wished he would do with his cig.

 

"I was just stretching my legs when I spotted you. Why are you taking out the trash? You look awful." Jiyong let out a laugh that sounded to my poor shattered soul like he was amused by my suffering.

 

"Thanks a lot dude" I muttered and savagely kicked a trash bag that was threatening to topple over.

 

"Whoa, I was just kidding." He sounded a bit taken aback. I guess I did sound upset. I was really bothered by the idea that Seungri thought I couldn't possibly have any culinary talent. "But really, Dara, what are you doing here?"

 

 

Geez. Jiyong probably didn't know a job if it bit him on his designer clad not that I checked what brand of jeans he was wearing. I just assumed. "My Aunt owns 21BANG ang I'm interning. Don't you have to intern this summer too?" The effort to sound neutral was stretching my patience a little. The smoke was probably getting to me.

 

 

"Nah! I just had my dad's HR department sign the form saying I completed the hours. But why are you taking out the trash? I mean, last I heard we're not studying Custodian Sciences." Another laugh escaped his annoyingly large mouth. I almost kicked the trash bag again, but I was afraid its contents were going to spill out and I'd end up having to clean the mess up, with my bare hands.

 

 

Sighing, I did my best to control my temper and bared my teeth in what I hoped could pass for a grin, if not a smile. "Are you here with friends?" If I wanted to stay calm, I had to change the subject.

 

 

"Minzy and Chaerin are inside." He took a quick drag on his cigarette and turned his head to blow the smoke away from me. Atleast he was considerate. I had to give him that. "Tell your Aunt the food's really good, Dar. Hey, wait a minute, don't you cook too?"

 

"Yeah." I felt myself mellowing. How did he know that about me? I didn't come to class bearing goodies for everyone. Weird. "I wanted to be part of the cooking staff. Instead I've got Seungri the Kitchen Nazy for a boss and he's got me throwing out the garbage. I was just demoted from dishwasher girl a few seconds ago."

 

"That ." Jiyong threw his cig on the ground and extinguished it with his shoe. Finally, clean air just slightly tinged with the smell of the dumpster. But atleast I could breathe again. I almost said that out loud when he looked directly at me and said, "I mean it, Dara, that really . I hope it gets better."

 

"Me too." I was a bit taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. I was just gripping. Not like it was a big deal. "I have like a hundred more hours to go in this hellhole. I better get back before Kitchen Nazi wonders where I am." The smile I flashed him was real this time.

 

"Later Dara! Maybe we can hang out sometime?"

 

Yeah right. "Uh. Sure! Just text me." I quickly slipped back into the kitchen wondering what had changed. Jiyong and I really never talked much in class except when we were group mates or stuck in line at the photocopy machine. Why did he want to hang out all of the sudden? Or was he just feeling guilty because he laughed at how ridiculous I looked trying to carry an enormous pile of trash? Or he probably didn't have anything to say so he just blurted that out. But I was almost sure he looked like he meant it. It wasn't even a statement most guys would thoughtlessly throw at you as they said goodbye. It was a question and he had actually waited for my answer. Who knew? What I did know for sure was that I had to get my act together soon or I was going to be faced with one disaster after another and I wasn't going to hear the end of it from Seungri the Nazi.

 

 

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