Let's go back in time, shall we? You may be wondering, how did I get this job? Why did I go for the position? How did I hear about the opportunity? Here it goes.
I saw the job posted on my culinary school's job website. At the time I really wanted to get out of my current situation. My boss was sexist and immature and it seemed like a dead end. I had been planning to get into the business of personal chef-dom anyway. I figured with a few years experience cooking at an "estate" how could any layman turn down my services?
I called the number attached to the posting and spoke to Annette. She informed me that she took care of special projects for the X's and that finding them a chef was the last project she had lined up. After a few personal and prodding questions I realized this was the interview process, Phase One.
Phase Two was scheduled at a small coffee shop in Pennsylvania. I was running a few minutes late due to the inconspicuous location and pouring rain. I called Annette's cell phone to let her know. Somehow I still arrived before her. I sat down in a plush, comfy chair in the corner facing the door.
Annette came in dripping wet and dragging a briefcase and two bags. She glanced around and then approached me. "Are you Marie?" she asked as she threw her luggage on the table.
She cracked open the briefcase and whipped out stacks of paper. We talked about me, my culinary education and cooking preferences. She quizzed me about juniper berries, beurre blanc and cherries jubilee. As we talked she made checks and slashes on the pages. This made me very nervous but she said she was very pleased and she thought the X's would be, too.
Our third encounter was to be at "Amy's Cafe" a week later. Mrs. X would be joining us for this one.
When I Googled directions I found out that Amy's Cafe was not a cafe but a diner attached to a Holiday Inn. Annette said Mrs. X wanted me to know, in terms of this place, "casual is an understatement." The unnecessary information came with an eerie condescending attitude that seemed not her own.
Why didn't I take heed of the flaming red flag?
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