Sam thinks business is slow because of the fighting, but we’ve all been watching this show long enough to know the food probably sucks shit as well, even though Sam gives it a nine out of ten. Sure. Server Leina shows up in time to watch Gordon proofread the menu, then takes his order to the kitchen while he sneers at the hideous pink décor. He can hear Sam and Emad yelling at each other in the kitchen, as can everyone else in the place.
The only kitchen that should have this much noise coming out of it is Gordon’s own Hell’s Kitchen, because why else do people eat there except to hear him berate his contestants?
The veggie plate, lovingly prepare with what I’m sure is the highest quality canned eggplant on the market, gets sent right on back, and we know that frozen gyro meat, rubbery shrimp, and overdone steak are all destined for their own express round trips. Emad and Sam continue to yell at each other, and the other boys get in on it as Gordon proceeds to taste and send back everything set in front of him. He should just bring a portable revolving door when he visits these places. The girls try to get their brothers to stop with the yelling, and I’m just waiting for someone to put their mouth directly under the boxed wine spouts that line the kitchen shelves.
It’s a common coping method. Don’t judge.
The yelling, however, is far from over, because when Gordon confronts the kitchen staff, they just fight about who sucks more their respective job, then start smirking at each other and casting blame, and it’s just a huge mess. Gordon doesn’t even know what to say, so he just leaves them to it. At least Emad admits he doesn’t like or care about his job, unlike most people on this show. He doesn’t want to be here in the first place—none of them do, and they can’t even leave. You know what? Usually this would be the part where I start ranting about lazy, ungrateful, bastard kids these days, but I truly can’t even blame a single one of them for their shitty attitudes. Sam makes the astute observation that no one is happy, and he doesn’t know what to do. Here’s a thought: how about hiring some people who would appreciate the job, and maybe fucking PAYING THEM A WAGE? I’d be pissed too if I had to spend literally every second of my day and night crammed in with everyone who shares my DNA at a job I didn’t want, that wasn’t even compensating me for my time. I’ve worked some horrible jobs in my life, but all of them condescended to pay me at least minimum wage, even if they only did so because they legally had to. I’m pretty sure at least one of my former bosses would’ve indefinitely withheld the paychecks of every last one of his employees if he hadn’t been afraid of prison.
Mental note: When forcing children into menial labor, either cut them a check or invest in muzzles.