Not exactly a soup question.

I have met the anti-me. 3 months ago a new guy started at work and he seemed cool, enthusiastic, talked the talk, then we realised he just liked to talk, that was the extent of his talent. A London boy that has been and done everything, if you have a story he has one better. If you have done something once, he's done it twice. If you want something, he has it already.In fact the way he carried himself and physical appearance lead me to believe that he was at least my age, my contemporary, maybe older. last week he came up to me, talking again; he's a 'space invader', he can't stand to talk to you, he has to be right up close and talk at you. I am always desperately looking for something to do so that I can move away, I get very uncomfortable when my personal space has been breached, but alas he is a 'follower', no sooner do you move so does he, he's like a shadow.
The problem is that theres a certain amount I can tolerate but space invaders freak me out. Back to the age scenario; he had come to me, probably talked some nonsense, retold me a joke from days ago and then he asks me, 'so how long have you been cooking?'
'about ten years' I said.
 'so how old are you?' he asks 'my age, 26?'
' I'm 29.' I said.
'No way! you old b*****d.' he was surprised, but I was too since I am taking shit from this guy who is younger, I don't discriminate against anything except people who want to make themselves look better they they actually are. I am very observant, if you're good, I will notice, you don't need to tell me; you just make me notice every bad thing that you do.
Perhaps I should emphasis the problems we have with him:
-This guy nearly cut his finger off with a knife while wrapping a tub in clingfilm. Really?!
-He was asked to cure some salmon, so he did, chef asked 'what salmon did you use? there was two sides here and they're still here.'
'oh I got it from that tray, must have been three there.'
'oh, ok.' said the chef, not entirely convinced.
on returning to the subject the chef asked to see what had in fact been done, having been confused about the whole situation. The boy hadn't taken any salmon from that tray despite his insistence, but had actually opened a packet of smoked salmon instead and had cover it in salt and sugar causing it to start  disintegrating.
The chef is left shaking his head, exasperated with this whole event and left washing the salmon to try and save what is left.
-He had to peel and dice some tomato, he asks me, ' you peel it by poaching it?' In my head I thought that he couldn't literally mean poach but to just blanch it,( dip in boiling water ) but sure enough my assumptions of him make even me an idiot. He got a pan with hot ( not boiling ) water and put the tomatoes in, then he put the pan on the stove and left it. Now anyone with an ounce of sense would realise that a soft tomato will surely go softer if you boil it. So he boiled it for about five minutes, took them from the hot water and put them into iced water, he then tried to peel off the skin but all he had was a soggy mass of vegetable in his hand, ' thats not going to work is it?' was his only comment. I couldn't believe my eyes, a chef that can't peel a tomato, I raised my eyebrows so high that they ended up on the back of my head.'So how do you do it then?' he asked. So i told him but not with much enthusiam.
'why do you have to be so arsey all the time?' he asks me.
I respond with, I just can't believe that you don't know how to peel a tomato.'
'I know!' he says,' but I always use a blowtorch to burn the skin off.' I fell even deeper into shock, where did you park your horse john wayne? 'I like to learn new things, you're never too old to learn new things.' he says.
Honestly, that was his comeback.
Its just been non stop irritation, this is after only a few months working there, I haven't finished either.
-One day I was cooking some lamb shanks, very popular dish, he asks if he could have one because he was so hungry. I said no, since they take hours to cook and I do so many that I want to keep them just for restaurant, not for staff lunch! the next day I find that one is missing from the tray. I ask him if he enjoyed it, he told me with a straight face that he hadn't touched it and I couldn't prove it either way.
The next week, same scenario, I cook, next day, one gone, but this time he's not there to interrogate.
I have to forget it, ( but I don't forget ).
The next week yet again I cook, next day, all still there, wow! So I continue to wrap them individual by using vacuum pack machine, whilst at machine vac'ing the first 5, I return to find that only 4 remain, I started with 10! But I can't prove anything. So I carry on, questioning myself if infact there was 10 when I started, maybe someone had already served one for a customer. Frustrated, I return to my kitchen and continue my prep for the evening. I open the microwave on this boys section and low and behold there is plate in there, upon that plate is the residual gravy stain of a lamb shank, undoubtedly, but still how do I prove its his? Then, I touch the plate and find that its still warm, result! ( its like CSI: ktichen). My plan of action was simple, leave the plate on his table and see his reaction.
He walks in, I'm at my section working. Straight away he picks up the plate and goes to walk out again, I have stopped working and am just standing staring at him. He could probably feel my stare burning a hole in the back of head. Just before he walks through the door he looks at me, ( guilty, checking that I hadn't noticed.), but he see me looking at him. My blood is boiling at this point.
'what?' he says to me.
'what was on that plate?' I ask.
'I don't know.'
'I know.'
Laughing, 'What was on it?' he asks
'lamb'
he says nothing. so I continue, 'If I ever find that you've been taking my prep we are going to fall out'
Then his admission to the crime comes out, ' Yea, it was me, but its only a lamb shank.'
'and the other ones?' I ask,' I specifically told you no.'
'Oh, I ain't never taken any other one, this one I did I admit.'
'I don't come here to waste my time cooking so that you stuff your face.' I'm angry.
'oh, chill out, you really going to get angry about this?'
Suddenly, like a child, he start to turn this on me, telling me to relax, that I'm grumpy and starting to making a joke about it. 'You need to relax, the worlds not on your shoulders, chill out.'
Thats strike one. I told him that I would not mention it again although he continued to call me grumpy.

As yet, he had only worked on functions and not in the restaurant, but the first time came, I had the night off.
'I don't know what you moan about, its easy out there.'
But I knew that they only had 4 customers and told him,
'yea, it was quiet but I cleaned everything, went through your fridge, made sure it was all labelled, washed it.'
But I had already looked at my prep and had seen that the writing on the labels didn't belong to him.
'so you labelled everything?' I asked
'yep, and washed the fridge.'
'You actually wrote the labels?' but by the look of my face he knows that he's been caught out.
'oh, no that was lloyd, but I cleaned it.'
I just shook my head at him, and said nothing.
'You're so ungrateful,' he said. ' done all that for you, not even a thank you.'
'did what?!' I said ' 4 customers!' and walked off.
Later on the head chef was there, and was adding jobs to this boys list, much to his annoyance, I stood nearby laughing.
'Chef, he is so ungrateful, I cleaned all his section, made it nice for him today and he doesn't even care.'
he continued, half joking but basically complaining to my head chef how grumpy I am, but using far worse language, colourful words, kitchen talk.
He'd crossed me again, trying to make me look bad, but I bit my tongue and went back to my kitchen to work. Later he comes in and after a while strolls over to me with his 'swagger'.
'See, look how tidy it all is.'
I had already inspected the fridge, it had not been done, ( all said and done, don't think it was filthy, or that our hygiene is in question, it wasn't 'dirty'- just not sparkling.)
'Come here.' I said to him, beckoning him with my finger, I pulled open a draw of the fridge and lifted a tub, some herb had fallen to the bottom, 'Is this clean?' I said. I pulled open another, lifted another tub, there was some clingfilm stuck to the base. 'And this, did you clean this?' he stood there, not saying anything. and after a few more draws I finished. 'You've been telling me all afternoon how much you did, did you do this?'
'oh no lloyd did all this section, I did over here.' An area that was nothing to do with me. and off he went like it meant nothing to lie to me, to make me feel guilty that I had made assumptions about him, judging him perhaps too quickly. That he made me look bad to my boss. Strike two.
I have said nothing to anyone important about all this as I am biding my time, for strike three. Thats not to say that there haven't been other minor incidents. Constant moaning about how miserable I am.
' How's service, everything o.k?' he asks, having done very little.
'yea, Its fine.' I mumbled, not wanting to engage converstaion with him.
'nothing ever bothers you does it?' he said
'should it?' I reply
It just looks at me confused, I hadn't been rude or sarcastic yet he didn't understand my answer, like it was coded in some way, a hidden meaning. 'what do you mean?' he asks.
'you have an order on.' I change the subject, pointing to his printer and walked off. Its enormously enjoyable to confuse him and then leave it hanging; perhaps if I'm lucky tormenting him, plagueing his mind, he brought it on himself.
But he consatntly finds occasions to try preaching to me how grumpy and stressed I am; my response,
'Just because you work with me for a few hours each day doesn't give you the right to make assumptions about me.'
'what, I wasn't assuming anything.'
'You said that I'm grumpy and miserable all the time, thats a pretty big assumption to me.'
'Oh so your all happy when you're out of work are you?'
'Yes!' I replied, of course I am, why can't he hear himself talking this rubbish?
One time I was minding my own business, I was in my kitchen and as yet we had no customers, I had my note book and was jotting something down. The door opens and in he strolls, coming to have a nose around. I subtly so as to not make it obvious that I was writing and drawing attention to myself, closed the book as he approached and started to fiddle and tidy about the place as if I hadn't even noticed him enter.
'What you doing, writing your memoirs?'
All I can think is, he's making fun of me for writing, I love to write, he may not even know it, but he's still insulting me. And why couldn't I be writing my memoirs, I've had a life, I have stories. Just because he admits to not even reading books why is it a stretch of the imagination that I do and write. philistine.
Or another time I was having a converstaion with someone in the restaurant about movies.
'Oh I saw this great movie again the other night, No country for old men.' I said.
Then in the background where he had been working in silence for once, not even part of the conversation he pipes up. 'Thats not good, it's shit!'
Excuse me, who are you? My conversation, and you interupt with that tit bit of information that matters to no one, no one's interested and you have just ruined our discussion about something else that is dear to me, films.
It's not only me who he winds up, infact I barely acknowledge his existance, yet my one superior at work, will not hesitate to tell him or shout at him when he's upset by something. but not without reason he is not one to shout like you see on the t.v. Indeed he's quite the opposite, one of the most honest and moral men I know. He wants nothing more than to do his job and do it well. He doesn't like to take bonuses for his work he just wants respect for it.
He confronted him whilst the boy was frying some chicken. He saw him drop a piece from the pan to the floor, but rather than pick it up and put it in the bin the boy kicked it under the table. My superior was standing beside him and was furious, he saw it happen but the boy denied it. 'just stop lying, admit what you did and move on.' said my superior, 'I saw you, do you want me to get it to show you?'
It never went any further, but its infuriating to have the constant denial of the obvious.
Two days ago the boy asks me if I have any of this mayonaise dip we use, he is preparing a function and is too lazy to make fresh himself. I am not overly helpful and simply respond with, 'yea, a bit.'
He doesn't force the issue, afraid what might happen. but then minutes later he shows up with a tub with a little already in and asks if he can simply top it up, yes fine I said and off he went. My superior comes to me and starts complaining how the boy has taken something off his section, taken it, used it and not replaced it. A caridnal sin in the kitchen, never touch another mans prep! They argue, the boy says that he didn't use it, he said he'd thrown it away because it was out of date, but I looked and nothing was in the bin, and why in the middle of service did he feel the need to throw away something, the one thing he wanted and when he could of done it the night before when he was himself working that section. What he had done was to take it, mix it with some of mine, put it in clean container so that the evidence of the old one couldn't be found and hopefully go unnoticed. The two of them shout, I was involved to varify the story but once again mainly stood there shaking my head in disbelief. How someone can think he is that clever, that smarter than everyone else that he does all these things and then everytime  when he gets caught, he just turns it onto something or someone else, reversing the blame. But it never works. The last incident came after a weekend when he had failed to show up to work, no call in the morning to say he was sick. He had been told off the night before for telling the second chef infront of the manager that he blows smoke up this managers arse. This was a bit too personal for the chef and he was angry. The no show the next day confirmed his suspicion that that was the end of the boy and that he would never return. He told everyone so, the boy had done us all a favour by digging his own hole, getting deeper and deeper till there was no way of getting out. He had solved the problem that everyone else seemed to be tiptoeing around. the head chef and second chef up to this point had ignored all our complaints and frustration probably for the sake of not wanting to lose the extra pair of hands during the busy season. Which frustrates us more when they know there's a problem, acknowledge the problem but won't sort the problem. Leaving us to work with it.
The problem however hadn't gone, the boy had suffered a tragedy in the family, his father apparently commited suicide. It was a shock and everyone felt for him, even me. One of the greatest fears I have is to lose my father yet he had hurt me too many times for me to console him, yet I tolerated him in the meantime. But despite how quiet he was now, he could soon forget his troubles and get back to his routine and causing us our stress. Following up with the 'stealing prep' incident. The head chef tells us, to be easy on him, that his father died. But if his work is as inconsistant as the times before and the mistakes keep coming, can we resolve them to be for this reason? I don't want to disrespect him for any loss he suffered but does my charity extend to my dispair? I haven't targeted him, I have kept quiet to this day about all the things he's done just to me, but with just me supporting my superior two days ago, the boy spent all of yesterday ignoring me, not talking me or even acknowledging me to be in the room. Am I upset, no. It's peaceful, Do I think its fair that I am the one in his eyes that has wronged him? No. yet once again I am the victim to people who think they own this world.