I am relieved that the person sharing the cramped space with me at our station is a petite, skinny, little fellow. Even with both of us being rather on the smaller side, we are always complaining about the lack of “butt space”- being that we are usually facing back to back and bumping butts each time we move about. Why is the space between the two stations so narrow? There is barely two feet in distance between our butts. Our stations were obviously not designed to be shared by fat people.
Most of the time, I am by myself, working both stations during service. Morgan usually stays upstairs and comes down when there is a rush and I need an extra hand. On slower nights, I spend the evenings firing appetizers and desserts, working alone in the space that is suited for fitting one person at a time, comfortably.
Just moving in and out of the cramped area is a challenge. It is impossible to squeeze through without “butt bumping” or kindly asking the other person to move out of the way. There are times when I am reaching down in my low boy to get something and Morgan needs to get out (or vice versa). He is trapped and cannot freely get in and out until I am done or unless I get up and let him pass through. This type of movement has become normal in our tightly confined space.
When we have a party or any other events that feature a special menu, our little space is often joined by our head pastry chef and another baker. The space is already cramped enough with just Morgan and me. But imagine adding two more people to our tiny little spot with limited “butt space”. The limited “butt space” turns into “no butt space.”
On nights when there is no butt space, I start to feel a mild sense of claustrophobia. Being unable to freely move around, the constricted sense of feeling trapped in the between the two stations (with the extra bodies entrapping me) causes some distressed anxiety at times.
|Help…I can barely move with three other bodies in this confined space!!|