The Chef
Who? "chef" What? "bra" Where? "The present"

I saw it before it even happened. The busboy, who had his hands full with all the plates he was carrying, bumped into Andy. Andy was the cute young guy who had just recently started to work here. I suspect he was grabbing a new pot or something at the bottom shelf. At the moment that the busboy bumped into Andy, he was backing up out of the shelf. He had to stick his head pretty far in. The busboy lost his balance and all the plates and glasses on his tray were starting to wobble.

“You idiot! I’ve told you that you’re not allowed to carry so much stuff,” I shouted at him. It was a mistake. He looked dumbstruck at me and did not focus on his tray anymore. It came crashing down, but not without taking out the pan with meat that stood on the stove. A few of the plates hit the handle of the pan, which caused it to fall. After a loud crash, lots of noise from the breaking plates and glasses and my inhuman shriek, it was dead quiet.


Apparently nobody knew where the shriek came from. I stormed out of the changing room to go give that busboy a piece of my mind. That was the second mistake. I went into the changing room earlier because that same moron of a busboy spilled tomato soup all over my clothes. It seemed as though I wasn’t finished changing my clothes yet. I didn’t fully secure my bra and it was now hanging loosely around my body. I didn’t notice it. I reached out to grab the boy. Third mistake. The right lace on the bra snapped, sending the bra twirling around my left arm. That’s when I realized that the only thing I was wearing was my bra, which was now dangling off of my left arm. Why did my boyfriend dare me to not wear underwear today? I realized now why everyone was staring at me. I ran back into the changing room and swung myself at the door. My chest was rising and dropping fast. I had to get out of here. I jumped when I heard the loud banging on the door. It was the boss. I yelled at him that I just needed a minute. The banging stopped and I went over to the bench where my clothes were. I sat down to catch my breath. “Minute’s up!” he informed right as he was entering. A flood of people came in with their cell phones and digital cameras. I was outraged. I stormed at them, nails first. I broke a few nails that day but the worst part was after I broke all of their cell phones and digital cameras. I yelled at the boss that I wasn’t coming back and left that instant.


My fourth mistake. Now I was outside. Naked. In an alley in Brussels. I hid behind some dumpsters. I couldn’t go back to the kitchen. The employees would just laugh at their ex-chef. I found a phone booth in the alley and I called my boyfriend. After he got control of his laughter he assured me that he would get there as soon as possible. He took too long. I tried to call a taxi, but I misjudged. It wasn’t a taxi. It was the police.


This police report was written on June nineteenth at eleven past midnight by police officer Kurt LeMoreau.

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Writing Activity
Who What Where
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I used the "Who, What, Where" writing activity and it came up with: chef, bra, in the present. So here it is.