Mr T's Secret
My brother called yesterday, he said he was unhappy to be working the entire weekend. He’s a chief working in the kitchen at one of those My Hotels in London. Mr T of A team fame apparently owns the My Hotel chain, it’s very up market and my brother finds himself making food for a few celebrities, he made Christopher Lloyd’s dinner last week for example.
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It’s not as good as it sounds though; he is still paid peanuts despite the fact that, due to staff shortages, he is almost all on his own. I told him he should demand more money, he told me that he’s tried but it’s impossible to get a clear answer as there are 20 managers, more managers than kitchen staff.
I told him to go straight to Mr T and give him a slap. His response was fantastic…
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Ben: “Mr T is obsessed with biscuits.”
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Me: “Ha Ha Ha Ha! What?”
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Ben: “He went nuts awhile back, he almost fired this manager at his Chelsea hotel because there wasn’t any biscuits by the pots of coffee, he flipped out.”
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Me: “Ha Ha Ha! That’s amazing!”
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Ben: “No because now I have a load of managers coming up to me ‘Ben where’s the biscuits? Ben why are the biscuits gone?’ ‘Err, they were eaten?’”
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Me: “Ha Ha Ha!”
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Ben: “Seriously; I have a list of things to do as long as my arm and they keep on at me about biscuits.”
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Me: “Mr T is obsessed with biscuits. I love it.”
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Ben: (putting on Mr T voice) “Where my biscuits fool?”
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Me (putting on Mr T voice) “Where my biscuits sucker? sucka? (thanks jhn brssndn)
