It was inevitable. We planned, plotted, created charts and tried to tell people "that spot looks really nice, sit over there" but alas it did not work. Chef saw through us, mixed up the count and created new daily work groups for class. I was in group 3. Because of a poorly timed bathroom break I missed the under-the-table-black-market number exchange and was stuck... a permanent member of group 3 saddled with the one person in class who:
1. is allergic to 43 different food ingredients
2. has a bad back and must sit down every 5 minutes
3. doesn't like to do dishes, that's why she only uses paper at home
4. doesn't know the difference between 1 oz and .1 oz (the meaning of the decimal point has escaped her somehow)
5. stands next to a filthy table staring off into who knows where and never realizes she should actually wipe it down
It's fate, my own personal karma for secretly plotting to put all the dumb people in one group. Why me, lord? Why me? Wasn't Judit enough? Must I really wander alone for 40 more years? Well, he may have banished me to the desert (or is it dessert...) that is group 3 for six more weeks but at least he's sent me a little manna from heaven called pie week. And I have to say, I made the best looking mini lemon meringue pies in the room (because I made sure the other two were busy so I could quick make them on my own).
Behold my own personal golden calf, the lemon meringue pie