I worked for you because I believed in what you did and thought your food to be delicious. I quickly learned you were a hack who stole all of "your recipes" (pretty much to the letter) from a more successful restaurant you had worked at previous. You worked us like dogs, paid minimum wage (for which you constantly complained about), took our tips (STOLE our tips), never gave us breaks, didn’t bother to familiarize yourself with labour laws and constantly dragged your giant suitcase full of fucked-up family, kid, divorce drama with you to work. What’s great about this situation is—I got a new job. A job with benefits, amazing people, a beautiful space. What’s more, I keep my tips. Every penny, and boy, am I reeling them in. So, while your shitty restaurant is bleeding money—I’m living the high life, having fun, going to the motherfucking dentist and am generally happy. -No Longer Yours