Okay, I need practical advice from my fellow culinarians regarding a sensitive and somewhat comical kitchen issue. Its July and the heat is killing me. Really. I can frequently be seen walking to the employee restroom as if I have been riding a horse, carrying a box of trusty cornstarch. You can always tell if Chef Ron was there because of traces of white powder on the men's room floor. The baggy chef's pants don't seem to help. Bad enough its 150 degrees and I have 3 rails of tickets running; now I can't even walk without everybody cracking up? Is there a God?
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7/5/99 at 10:59pm