Worst. Job. Ever.
While on the coast with Dad I had access to cable TV. One of the shows on was about really bad jobs. Sure, the work was often dirty, smelly, and dangerous, but I know a job worse.
While dad was in the hospital he of course ate hospital food. Even recovering from a heart attack, dad had a good appitite, but at each meal he could only eat about half of what he was given. At first I thought it was because he was sick, but as time passed I realized it was because the food wasn't that good tasting. No salt, no seasoning of any kind, and most of it came from a can. At first he tried to use the included packet of Ms. Dash to fix the worst tasting thing on the plate, but he eventually gave up. Some foods were so bad that the smell of them turned him off the rest of his meal. He would cover them with the lid to his plate and try his best to eat the rest. The worst offenders were the leafy green veggies. Ironically, leafy greens are among his favorite foods. Once he gave up on Ms. Dash, mom started collecting the packets to use at home.
The first morning home, mom made grits and had not used any salt on them, instead putting her collected packets of Ms. Dash on the table. I stirred my eggs into mine and needed no seasoning. Dad ate his grits with black pepper. Mom went for the Ms. Dash. From the look on her face, both the initial look as the food hit her tongue, and the look of pitty she sent in dad's direction, I could assume a whole lot about Ms. Dash. Ms. Dash wears a spiked black leather apron and her black chef's hat zips over her mouth and nose. She clearly whips her cream with a riding crop, and beats her eggs with wild abandon.
And that's when it hit me. There is a job out there worse than cleaning septic tanks, worse than diving for golf balls, worse than being a product testor for mosquito repellant. This job deserves a real american hero song dedicated to them (along with a tasteless Budlight beer).
Hospital Chef is clearly the worse job EVER. Think about it. You have to come work every day and make a meal that will be eaten almost entirely by a population who are at best, "unwell". You have to make this meal for the lowest common denominator. The person with high cholesterol, diabetes, an intestinal infection, heart attack, and on medications that react to food. They are allergic to certain foods and religion dictates that other foods can't be eaten. To add insult to injury, for a portion of your population this is their last meal...EVER.
I bet the suicide rate among the hospital chef population is up there with that of white male physicians. Come to think of it I wonder if hospital food is causing the spike in suicides among white male physicians. Ms. Dash must get really turned on knowing that her slaves are sharing their soul sucking misery with others.
So here's to you Hospital Chef, may the end of your misery come with flavor and fresh ingredients.
On the other hand, perhaps hospital chef is a field rife with sadist, in which case this would be dream job. Think on that the next time you or a love one get "served" while on the inside. But bring a picnic basket.
