Season of Giving

Living in a van, one of my biggest concerns is the cops. Many towns have ordinances against sleeping in vehicles, and I try to base where I camp in areas that don't have those, or at least have loopholes (Wal-Mart lots are convenient for that). Small towns especially tend to have bored cops, and I have yet to meet a member of the police forces that doesn't err on the side of dickbaggery when bored.

I've been playing it safe lately, keeping it at the restaurant I work at (with the owner's permission), with zero fuss. The neighbors either haven't noticed or don't care, and it's been very peaceful.

This morning was a tad different.

I awoke, curled under my comforter, warm and cozy and pantsless (my van, my rules dammit). My dog, Clooney, was sitting next to me, just staring and willing me to wake up for our walk. Mentally swearing at him, I begin to contemplate actually getting out of bed.

And there's a knock on the van door.

I immediately begin to mentally freak. It's 8am, it has to be the cops, but why would they be here? It's private property, the owner knows I'm here and I have permission and Jesus Christ I'll just pretend I'm not here.

The damn dog barks. Fuck.

Now I HAVE to answer, or some do-gooder animal lover will break into my car citing animal cruelty against this fat spoiled fur ball. I say as nonchalantly as possible, "Just a minute!"

Hiking on a pair of sweatpants, I climb up to the passenger cab door- the side doors don't open from the inside at the moment. Opening the door, my panic immediately washes to relief when I see it's a local that I've met before, when I was hanging with the Barista. And he recognized me.

His surprise was very apparent, and we had a slightly strained conversation. Not in a bad way, but you could kind of tell he wasn't expecting to see someone he had met as a functional human being living in a van. Turns out he's one of my neighbors, just a couple doors away, and he was kind enough to leave me with a bag of odds and ends foodstuffs and an invitation to coffee or tea should I ever feel like it.

Encounters like that are weird for me. On the one hand, I haven't exactly made it very public that I live in a van around town. I want to be known as a person before I'm known for my circumstances. But it is a small town, and I can't be surprised that people will put two and two together. And some will immediately conclude that I may require charity. My pride is intensely uncomfortable with that. I ask favors from friends that I know I will repay in time, I have a running tally in my head of the myriad of people I owe. However, kindness that is intended without reciprocation is just fucking weird to me. After all, I am always the one who makes things happen, I help others. I can't let this insult me, regardless of my vanity. After all, my brain keeps reminding me, "Bitch, you live in a van. Deal with it."

...Not sure how my neighbor expects me to cook a baby pumpkin in a van, though. Bless his heart. :)

Humanist Rant

I was elated. I hopped out of the Schwartz,  the battered old piece of shit van that it is, and squealed for joy. *I* had just fixed a major wiring problem!  All by myself!  (Ok, sure, a wire had just jiggled loose and I reconnected it, but considering that one wire controlled everything electronic in the thing, starter motor included? I am fucking proud of that!) I had parked outside of work, and was about to warn the owner that the van was staying put for a few days until I was able to take it to a repair shop next Tuesday.  One of the bartenders saw me first.

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed, clearly shocked, "You're a girl!"

"Last time I checked!" I am wearing a skirt and knee-high black boots today with a flattering turtleneck sweater. Not the usual jeans-tshirt-apron-bandanna look he was used to.

"Are you sick? On the run? Do you need an alibi?"

Sigh.

That one little convo has been repeated in my life more than anything should be. It has only recently began to bother me because frankly, after 11 years' in this industry,  why is it still surprising? 

I recently read 'Blood, Bones, and Butter' by Chef Gabrielle Hamilton, and finally found a chef I can relate to out of the countless memoirs I've read. She, like myself, got into this industry by accident. She, like myself, has stayed because we don't know how to really do anything else  (well, she's an amazing writer, but she's also got a few years on me. Lucky her.). And she,  much like  myself, could not figure out why in the fuck being a woman in commercial kitchens is still a discussion point.

It dawned on me today, and this spans all industries,  that people have ceased to discern the difference between People and Careers. Van living has driven home a personal belief of mine that I do not ultimately want to be defined by my Career, but by how I have lived. The trouble with this, however, is I am constantly being evaluated by my feild of work. I am a Cook. I am a Server. I am a Beer Store Clerk. I am a Manager. I am a Chef.

No.

I am a Human Being. You are a Human Being. Everyone is a Human Being.

Yes, certain stereotypes can be made in various career feilds. However, at the end of the day, if I choose to wear skirts and pick flowers or do other girly shit, it is because I AM A HUMAN BEING THAT ENJOYS THOSE THINGS. I am an accidental chef out of a passion for food and a decent dose of spite acquired by working in the industry. The discussion should not be, "How has being a woman in ex-and-such feild affected the status quo", and it definitely shouldn't be a pissing contest between genders. The discussion needs to be, "As a human being, are you capable of the work, and do you enjoy it?" Otherwise, it opens the door for overblown Michelin-starred assholes to discredit an entire portion of the workforce (I'm not bothering to link that article because frankly, fuck that guy) and for shit like GamerGate to be a thing (Google it if you want to lose your faith in people entirely ).

I am a chef. I am also a girl, a friend, a lover, a collegue, a bit obscene, and polite to people whom I respect. I will continue to live exactly as I deem fit, career be damned. And I hope, for all that is right in the world, People figure out that They are worth far more than whatever price their Career has assigned them.