“I was walking past this tiny café where a guy with a food-stained apron was sweeping the sidewalk. I was still trying to figure out what I was going to do when I was really free. What could I do other than fuck or be some rich man’s toy? This guy, he yelled at me as I walked past and asked if I needed a job.” John gave a watery, huffy kind of laugh. “I must have looked as desperate as I felt. Anyway, he said he needed an entry-level sous-chef and general worker. And I needed a job. Only took me a day or two to get the hang of food prep before I knew I loved it. I wanted to be a chef.