At one point, quite unexpectedly, Jason (who was my Head Chef) decided to just leave. I still don't know why. A new Head Chef arrived in his place—Julia.

Julia was a tough cookie, with bright red hair, a pear-shaped figure, and the personality of a tank. Julia had one quirk: she didn't know how to do anything, but no one could tell her that. Basically, she just bossed everyone around and yelled at everyone, while her husband—a Mexican guy who was actually an excellent cook—did everything for her.

It's worth noting that I had a good relationship with her, but only for a while.

In the beginning, her first day happened to fall on my training shift on the line after dishwashing, where I messed up everything I possibly could due to inexperience. I was really worried about letting down the people who vouched for me, but she took pity on me and sent me to prep. From that moment on, I was officially doing food prep, which made me incredibly happy. Plus, by that time, all the Romanians who were contracted to be dishwashers had arrived. She moved me to the morning shift, and then to the mid-shift, where I continued to work as hard as before, but one time it happened that I didn't do things the way she wanted, but my own way. And that really spoiled my future life at the resort. In reality, everyone understood that you shouldn't always do what she says because she worked very poorly and rarely on the line, which made her confused. And she didn't really understand the structure of our cafe at all. I don't know, maybe she's a genius at another restaurant, but not at ours. But no one stood up to her, and I did—though it was accidental, not really understanding what she wanted from me. After that, she started giving me more work, nitpicking over trifles, and stopped praising me like she used to. Basically, I fell out of favor. She immediately chose a new target—a dishwasher who didn't know anything at all—and started trying to make him the best worker. Singling him out among everyone, like, 'Look how great he is, and you guys are idiots.' And all this in the middle of the rush, when the restaurant had about 20 occupied tables waiting for orders.

Her mistakes continued, and we were still the ones to blame.

Remember I told you about tripadvisor.com? Well, there's a page for restaurants similar to the one for hotels. Our cafe is on there, where new reviews from satisfied and not-so-satisfied customers were constantly coming in. She would sometimes print these reviews and read them to us during the shift, blaming all of us except for the guy she was promoting.

Looking ahead, I'll note that he became the best worker of July. Why? No one ever understood. He was a good guy, but during work, he constantly panicked and did everything too slowly. But he was the favorite.

And so we fought with her all season. In many ways, thanks to our ultimatums, the restaurant stayed afloat, because sometimes she really had delusional ideas, but the owner understood that he wouldn't find another head chef in the middle of the season, so we had to finish the season with her. And every time we received a new task and instructions on how to do it, we practically did it the opposite way. Now add to the fact that she's a bad cook, that she's slightly unhinged, always yelling, has a masculine personality, and loves American football. How are you supposed to work with her? So, I couldn't take it anymore.

One day, it happened that for the second time that season, I showed my weakness.

In the middle of the season, I had become a significant worker in the kitchen, who didn't just do prep but was always ready to jump on the line to help other cooks in a tough moment. And it happened that she called me to help, and I somehow started doing something carelessly, and in the middle of the rush, she started yelling at me that I was constantly ruining everything or something like that. I had dropped a portion of fries into the sink while trying to drain the water. She was bothered by the fact that I wasted so much money. Anyway, her attack was the final straw, and I couldn't answer her back. So, in the back of the kitchen, I sat down and cried, just like back in Missoula. Yes, another 5-minute moment of weakness. But what next? I realized that you can't do that, and 5 minutes later I went back out, pulling my cap down over my eyes so it wouldn't be obvious that they were teary. It happens, right? But her constant pressure really got to me, considering I was working non-stop without rest.

But in this situation, I am proud of myself that I still went back to the line and finished the work. No matter how hard it was. And weaknesses... everyone has them. I'm not ashamed of that in this situation.

By the way, for those who want to earn more: friends, don't look for a second job. Try to pick up extra shifts at your first one instead. I had 30 hours a week in my contract, but kitchen work required significantly more, so in the middle of the season, we were working 60+ hours a week, and we didn't have time for a second job. And what's the point? The overtime rate is higher, and you don't have to go anywhere. Everything is right at hand.