I Once Got a Blowjob While Working the Line

Welcome back to Restaurant Confessionals, where we talk to the unheard voices of the restaurant industry from both the front- and back-of-house about what really goes on behind the scenes at your favourite establishments. For this edition, we spoke to a chef who found love while working the line one night.

When you work in a professional kitchen, you have no time for love, so you get it wherever you can.

That's why you never see too many up-and-coming chefs who are married with families. If you do see married chef couples, chances are that they both will be somehow involved with working in restaurants.

One late night, love found me in the form of receiving fellatio while prepping ingredients for a huge food event the following day. I didn't think much of it then, but now as I reflect on this as a happily married man with kids, I realise that was probably one of the best blowjobs I've ever received in my life.

If you've ever worked in this industry or have a friend who works in a kitchen, you've probably already figured out that this career can easily turn you into a sex addict. The thing is, when your paycheck depends on you being on your feet for 14 hours a day, you work really hard. Consequently, you also play really hard and also fuck really hard. I wouldn't say that I necessarily became one myself, but I did enjoy a glorious six-month-long fling with a waitress from a nearby restaurant.

I met this woman at the restaurant where she worked in, since it was the only place that was open late after I got out of work. She was always my server. I wouldn't necessarily say that we had any chemistry, or even any sparks. But for some reason, one night I asked, "Hey, do you want to go get a drink?" She responded, "What took you so long?" So we had a couple of dates. During the first two outings, things were tame because she wouldn't drink any booze at all. "I get kind of crazy when I drink," she would tell me. "I don't think you can handle me when I'm drunk. You might regret it."

I told her, "I bet I can." As soon as she had a few drinks during our third date, I knew why she didn't drink: Alcohol made her into a freak.

Our sex life wasn't so much making love, it was a more like a Nelly music video come to life. Perhaps the freakiest part of all was that she would never let me take showers before our sex meetups; she liked how I smelled after cooking for 14 hours, no matter how much I reeked of onions, garlic, raw fish, and sweat.

We fucked everywhere. In the kitchen, in the office, on the dishwashing sink. One night, she even gave me a blowjob while I filleted a whole young tuna. I'll never forget that night. It was me, my sous chef, some girl he was messing around with, and then the waitress tagging along. It was 2 AM and around 90 degrees inside of the kitchen. It was extremely humid and everything else was sticky because he had turned off the hood for the night.

We were all drinking and the waitress said, "I want to go down on you while you slice fish." I said, "Umm, OK." And that was that. Forget road head—this was mis en place head. I wasn't afraid of getting caught because the kitchen was practically my house. Later that night, she ate my ass out by the grill. She ate my ass well, too. Like I said, she was a freak.

However, everything came to a sudden halt when I found out that she was married. One day she called me and said, "Hey, I have to tell you something: I'm married and my husband is in Afghanistan." My jaw dropped and I was like, "Whaaaaaat. Oh man, that is so fucked up. I really wish you would have told me that before." There were no repercussions or bad blood or anything after that. I just told her, "Have a nice life, good luck with everything."

Our sexcapades lasted for six glorious months and I am thankful for going off the single wagon in style. I got all—well, most—of the freak out of me. I am now golden.

I haven't seen her since.

This story was originally published in February, 2016.

As told to Javier Cabral