“Wouldn’t it be nice if you were always asked or told to do something that would make you happy?”
“We have so much requested of us, demanded of us, and usually it takes away just a sliver of your soul. Do this thing you don’t really want to do. Complete this task you actively dislike. Debase yourself for my profit or amusement. Life often appears to be an endless procession of people pressuring you to act against your own nature and inclinations. Sometimes they do it for the furthering of their own interests. Other times? They just do it for fun.”
“If only we could all wish one another well. Hey, you’re stressed, take some time off. Let’s go for a hike. Order your favourite meal, it’s on me. Kindness and giving seem to be unfashionable nowadays. It’s like… I go on a video game, right? I will type in the chat or say over voice comms, ‘best of luck everyone, hope you all have fun’. You know what I get back? What I am asked to do, because they think it is oh-so-funny to try and get a rise out of strangers for now reason?”
“Get back in the kitchen.”
“I don’t like kitchens. I mean, they’re necessary, but it isn’t a seat of passion for me. There is no grand inspiration, no feelings of belonging or nostalgia… The kitchen is just somewhere I have to go where I am hungry to get what I want. Other than that, I view it with resentment for no other reason than other people tell me it is ‘my place’, like they know me, like they own me.”
“In a way I envy you Anton. Everyone has hobbies, things they love, but rarely do they overlap with necessity, with the mundane tasks we must all undertake for survival. If someone told you to get back in the kitchen, you’d probably do so with a grin a mile wide and a mind full of ideas. I know that feeling – I get it on slopes, rock faces, skate parks, the roofs of tall buildings. Thing is, these are never places I NEED to be to survive. I have to go out of my way for it… And nobody ever tells or asks me to do these things. Nobody gives a shit.”
“This match just feels like someone having a joke at my expense. ‘Oh look, a feminist! Lets run that old joke, and get them to face a chef so we can act like we didn’t know what we were doing!’. Motherfuckers. But you know what? For the first time, a kitchen is filling me with enthusiasm. I want to let the knobber whose idea this was eat cake. I’m gonna make some delicious knuckle sandwiches. I’m gonna bring the heat, and just because circumstance places you in there with me Mr. Savor, you’re the one who’s gonna get cooked. For one night, everyone gets to savour the flavour of Aurora A La Carte.”
“And ain’t nobody gonna tell me to get back in the kitchen again.”