Saturday, December 20, 2008

I have to iron WHAT?

The bigger the yacht, the more formality required. The 100 foot yacht I worked on previously is considered small in the industry, and I was the sole stewardess, which was cool. Now on this larger yacht, I am the crew's cook, which I love. When the owners are aboard, however, I relinquish the galley to a chef and then become the third stewardess. And I have a supervisor, the "Head Stew." Head stews have reputations for being . . . let's just call it not so nice.

Today I bring up the laundry upstairs to the owners' closets and see the second stew. She is with the head stew. I say to the second stew:

ME (holding garments on a wooden hanger): Um, these are Mrs. X's pajamas. I don't think you really had to iron them, did you?

SECOND STEW: I'm not sure . . .

HEAD STEW: Yes, we absolutely do have to iron everything.

[She loves to say "we" when she really means "you"]

ME: We have to iron their pajamas?

HEAD STEW (getting flustered that I am ignorant of this obvious and logical fact): Of COURSE we do! We have to iron everything. We iron pajamas, boxers, everything!

Now I don't know about you, but any job that requires me to iron someone's underwear perhaps may not be the ideal job for me. God, how I cannot wait to get back in the galley where I belong.

1 comment:

JP said...

This is almost as good as your other boss in NYC who didn't like the asparagus because they were too big? OY gavault