Solid sign I’ve worked in the restaurant world too long:
I mindlessly refer to the pantry in my house as “dry stock” on an almost daily basis.
Lush.
Cynic.
One-womanizer.
Living in Portland after a much needed
escape from the Midwest.
*my wife and I live in a floating house, so there are a lot of beers on the dock and such (and NO, wife is not just a term of endearment).
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I just walked into a public bathroom and yelled “corner” without thinking.
Those of you who work in the world of restaurants will understand this and realize that it means I need a vacation.
