The Perpetually Disgusted Chef

The Super Kroger's in our neighborhood has a very cool "gourmet shoppe".  Yes, the sign actually spells "shop" with an extra "pe".  If you know much about the south end of the county, this is an oxymoron.  But at any rate, in addition to their deli, this Krogers does indeed have a gourmet shoppe that sells ready-to-eat/heat food. Their rosemary pork loin is to die for, and I could eat a bucket full of their spinach artichoke dip.  The gourmet shoppe even has a real chef, complete with the white chef coat and [sometimes] the white chef hat. 

On my first trip to the gourmet shoppe portion of the store, I saw a big sign hanging above it with a picture of the new chef. I immediately recognized her.  We went to the same school, and even though she was a year or two older, we had a couple of classes together.  I remember then seeing her in class thinking "I sure don't want to piss her off.  She always looks disgusted." Even though she was smiling in the picture in the store, when I saw her behind the counter, she still looked disgusted.  She had become the Perpetually Disgusted Chef.  When she asked if she could help me, I introduced myself with the usual "You probably don't remember me, but..." True to form, she said she didn't remember my name, but that I looked familiar.  Yeah, right.  Other than my blue eyes, I don't look a thing like I did when I was in high school.  I wanted to blurt out "Oh, with that look of perpetual disgust, I'd recognize you anywhere."  She gave off a bad vibe the first few times she waited on me, and some times I would go out of my way to avoid the gourmet shop just because I didn't want her to wait on me.  Just as in high school, I guess I didn't want to piss her off.

My love of the gourmet shoppe's blackened chicken breasts drew me there yesterday morning before work.  I have to drive about a bit out of my way to get to this Krogers on the way to work, so you know I really wanted the blackened chicken bad enough to get up a few minutes earlier. I went to the store incognito. I didn't sleep well, and tossed and turned all night so I looked like I'd been on a two-week binge.  I had on black J-Lo nylon pants with the white stripes up the side, a red U of L t-shirt and I kept my sunglasses on to hide the bags under my eyes. As I walked to the gourmet shoppe, Isaw something that made me stop in tracks: there, behind the counter and cases was the Perptually Disgusted Chef swatting at flies with an old-school flyswatter. The sight was a true Kodak moment.  If she'd had on her white chef hat, I would have ran over to the photo department and bought a disposable camera and taken some pictures of the scene. She put down her flyswatter and asked if she could help me.  Yes, she did wash her hands first. She didn't recognize me, and I didn't make any small talk; all I wanted was my blackened chicken. 

 I wasn't grossed out about the chef swatting flies in the gourmet shoppe - it's summer, and even in the most-sanitary places, flies are going to get in, just like they do in our homes.  Plus, the blackened chicken was in an enclosed case far away from where the flies and flywatter were, so I didn't even worry about the food. The scene was just priceless, though - the Perpetually Disgusted Chef looking pepetually disgusted as she was chasing flies with a flyswatter.