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Authors: Lana N. May
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wiped off his plastic shoes with a sponge.
The office door opened a few minutes later, and the chef pursed her lips.
“The groups with the creative schnitzel and the colorful casserole won. The schnitzel didn’t taste bad. However, we preferred the casserole.” Ms. Geyer looked in Johanna’s direction. Jörg was delighted and bounced happily up and down.
“Wait. Only one person from each group is moving on to the last round,” the assistant carefully explained as she straightened her glasses. “Ms. Stern and Mr. Ronacher.”
The chef said good-bye to the other applicants with a “Good luck to you, wonderful to have had you here.”
The assistant gazed at Johanna then said, “If you please, Ms. Stern, come with me right away. Ladies first.”
Chef Geyer went ahead, and a few seconds later, Johanna found herself in a large office. The room seemed bigger than it actually was. Cooking awards covered the walls. Johanna tried to think of any awards that she might have won in her life. She realized quickly that the number came to exactly zero—she really wasn’t the type of person who ever won anything. In school, she hadn’t been that crazy about sports. Her sport of choice was smoking cigarettes that she’d found on the ground, though they always left a terrible taste in her mouth. As for foreign-language competitions, her all-too-willing-to-criticize male Spanish teacher had deemed her “unburdened by talent.”
“Well, you’re never going to marry Prince Felipe. He wouldn’t be able to understand a word you said,” the Spanish teacher had liked to say, as if any of his pupils longed to marry the Spanish royal. Back then, everybody had a crush on Johnny Depp anyway. The Spanish teacher could ride into the sunset with Felipe himself, as far as Johanna and her classmates were concerned. She sat down in Chef Geyer’s office and nervously played with her fingers.
“Ms. Stern, you created a funny little casserole. It appeared edible, but well, I highly doubt whether it tasted good.” The chef laughed as she inspected Johanna’s resume. “Okay, you have a little work experience, but not in the field of cooking, right?” The holes in Johanna’s resume were big enough to drive a grocery-store delivery truck through.
“And you’re very thin; do you eat anything at all?” The chef waited anxiously for her reply.
“Actually, yes,” said Johanna, and paused. She didn’t know quite what else to say. “I find cooking to be very relaxing. That’s why I like it. I admit that I haven’t cooked that much, but I have a talent for detail.”
“Yes, I noticed that.”
“Anyway, I want to learn more, and I think that I could do that with you. I read that you teach all your employees how to cook.”
“Yes, when they don’t know how and I see potential in them. Do you have potential?”
“I would really love to learn, and I think that I’m a quick study. Plus, I have plenty of time on my hands to dedicate to learning how to cook.”
“You had a very tough partner, and I noticed that you didn’t lose your patience. Anybody else would have lost it with that character.” Ms. Geyer smiled. “That’s what won me over. You need patience in the kitchen . . . Okay then, do you have any questions for me?”
Johanna shook her head.
“Okay, that’s it, then . . . oh, the pay, we need to talk about that,” said Ms. Geyer as she leaned forward, folding her hands and describing the hourly wage.
Moments later, Johanna left the office and Mr. Ronacher was called in.
At least half an hour went by before Mr. Ronacher came out again. A winning smile spread across his face as he looked proudly at Johanna. Sitting opposite her, he casually crossed his legs and stared at the white wall behind his competitor. The only thing he didn’t do was whistle “Zippity Doo Dah.” Johanna had talked with the chef for less than ten minutes, so she knew she wouldn’t be getting the job. Game over , she thought. Mr.
The office door opened a few minutes later, and the chef pursed her lips.
“The groups with the creative schnitzel and the colorful casserole won. The schnitzel didn’t taste bad. However, we preferred the casserole.” Ms. Geyer looked in Johanna’s direction. Jörg was delighted and bounced happily up and down.
“Wait. Only one person from each group is moving on to the last round,” the assistant carefully explained as she straightened her glasses. “Ms. Stern and Mr. Ronacher.”
The chef said good-bye to the other applicants with a “Good luck to you, wonderful to have had you here.”
The assistant gazed at Johanna then said, “If you please, Ms. Stern, come with me right away. Ladies first.”
Chef Geyer went ahead, and a few seconds later, Johanna found herself in a large office. The room seemed bigger than it actually was. Cooking awards covered the walls. Johanna tried to think of any awards that she might have won in her life. She realized quickly that the number came to exactly zero—she really wasn’t the type of person who ever won anything. In school, she hadn’t been that crazy about sports. Her sport of choice was smoking cigarettes that she’d found on the ground, though they always left a terrible taste in her mouth. As for foreign-language competitions, her all-too-willing-to-criticize male Spanish teacher had deemed her “unburdened by talent.”
“Well, you’re never going to marry Prince Felipe. He wouldn’t be able to understand a word you said,” the Spanish teacher had liked to say, as if any of his pupils longed to marry the Spanish royal. Back then, everybody had a crush on Johnny Depp anyway. The Spanish teacher could ride into the sunset with Felipe himself, as far as Johanna and her classmates were concerned. She sat down in Chef Geyer’s office and nervously played with her fingers.
“Ms. Stern, you created a funny little casserole. It appeared edible, but well, I highly doubt whether it tasted good.” The chef laughed as she inspected Johanna’s resume. “Okay, you have a little work experience, but not in the field of cooking, right?” The holes in Johanna’s resume were big enough to drive a grocery-store delivery truck through.
“And you’re very thin; do you eat anything at all?” The chef waited anxiously for her reply.
“Actually, yes,” said Johanna, and paused. She didn’t know quite what else to say. “I find cooking to be very relaxing. That’s why I like it. I admit that I haven’t cooked that much, but I have a talent for detail.”
“Yes, I noticed that.”
“Anyway, I want to learn more, and I think that I could do that with you. I read that you teach all your employees how to cook.”
“Yes, when they don’t know how and I see potential in them. Do you have potential?”
“I would really love to learn, and I think that I’m a quick study. Plus, I have plenty of time on my hands to dedicate to learning how to cook.”
“You had a very tough partner, and I noticed that you didn’t lose your patience. Anybody else would have lost it with that character.” Ms. Geyer smiled. “That’s what won me over. You need patience in the kitchen . . . Okay then, do you have any questions for me?”
Johanna shook her head.
“Okay, that’s it, then . . . oh, the pay, we need to talk about that,” said Ms. Geyer as she leaned forward, folding her hands and describing the hourly wage.
Moments later, Johanna left the office and Mr. Ronacher was called in.
At least half an hour went by before Mr. Ronacher came out again. A winning smile spread across his face as he looked proudly at Johanna. Sitting opposite her, he casually crossed his legs and stared at the white wall behind his competitor. The only thing he didn’t do was whistle “Zippity Doo Dah.” Johanna had talked with the chef for less than ten minutes, so she knew she wouldn’t be getting the job. Game over , she thought. Mr.
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