Ive been lurking in your forums for quite a while and now i want to join! Its a good idea because this past year ive done what few of my fellow grade 12 students havent, ive decided what i want to do with my life. I want to be a chef. Many have told me im nuts, crazy even. And they're right. It takes a crazy breed to want to do this for a living, but now i cant picture myself doing anything else. It all started october of 2003 in grade 11. Tired of living off 20 bucks a week allowance, i saw an add in the paper that a sucsessfull ittalian resturaunt was opening a second location in my town, and they were looking for staff of all kinds. I applied as a busboy, but due to my age, i was not allowed (serving alcohol). But they did ofer me a job in the dishpit. November started and we were busy. I worked 3-5 shifts per week and came home at 11 or 12 to do my homework. The work was hard and looking back now im not too sure how i handled it, but i did. But the other dishwashers were starting to f**k off. Most quit, and by christmas i was the only one who lasted two months. So istarted asking if i could hook my friends up with jobs, and at one point i had 4 of my friends working there, and two of us would always work dishes together. The cooks are really cool people, all in ther lower 20's, they invited us to party with them sometimes, and they were always really good to me because i always busted my *** working for them. Then it happened. It was the summer time and the pastry chef asked me if i wanted to work full time assisting him in the bakery making sheet after sheet of foccacia bread (a repeditive task he wanted out of). And by the end of the summer, i could make better bread then him. It was sometime over the summer that i decided i wanted to work in this industry. The summer ended, i started grade 12 and i could no longer do bread monday-friday anymore. I still have the one bread shift on saturday, but that wasnt enough hours for me so i did dishes again. But then in december of this year, the pizza cook f***ed up his thumb. Bad. So bad the hospital called us and asked if we could look for the other piece of it. This happened at a time when our executive chef was fired for his costs being too high and the owners taking over operations. We are allowed a meal a day and since i enjoy cooking, i usualy make my own pizza and a salad. I had just started my shift in the dishpit, was making my supper when the salad cook called from the hospital the day after the thumb incident with the other guy. He had a collapsed lung. So the owner comes back in the kitchen, knowing two of her cooks on the pizza/salad station are out of commission, and sees me, plating a pizza, and a salad for myself. "you do that pretty good, how would you like to work on this station for a few weeks, we can train you and everything tonight". Needless to say I was delighted. It took me only a couple days to learn the ropes, and my first busy friday night went off without a hitch, as did new years eve. The owners and other cooks were so impressed with my performance that when the original pizza cook came back 2.5 months later, they gave him my old job in the dishpit. He lasted 3 days. So thats my story. I cant wait to finish highschool, start my aprentishship and be on my way. I havent had a friday or saturday night to myself like all my other friends in about 4 months now, but i dont care. Im on the line and i couldnt be happier.