The day I got fired was the same day I got scammed out of $2000 (estimated) in an apartment scam. This meant I still had to live out of my car and thug it out on the streets of LA.

Next kitchen situation I landed, I worked for a really sketchy guy. His name was Raj. Only it wasn’t, his name was like David or something but he went by Raj.

The year was 2019 and I responded to a craigslist ad looking for kitchen help. This guy owned two RVs and a loft downtown. He agreed to let me stay in the RV and he’d pay me as long as I worked x amount of events and hours for him. Seemed reasonable at the time.
I didn’t particularly want to live in an RV, I was more interested in the
loft, but I was told the loft was in a state of disrepair etc.

Raj was friends with these dudes who owned a bar who let him use their kitchen for prep work Me and this dude named DJ worked at 6am cutting fucking Zucchini and making whatever dishes we were going to hawk at the farmers market. We occupied two booths at the farmers market. I hawked vegan lasagna while DJ was across from me selling vegan queso. I had to share the RV with DJ.

DJ was from Hyderabad. DJ was on the lam from the long arm of his stern Indian parents. They sent him to the states for college, but they didn’t know he dropped out years ago, left NYC and thumbed it out west. We got along quite well. He was a gambling addict, I was a drinker and habitual weed guy, real match made in heaven.

Raj had the brilliant idea of expanding his empire by buying a food truck. Raj had both DJ and me train under a chef for a day, just to steal his recipes. Next thing I know I’m back to back in a food truck with DJ from Hyderabad slinging vegan Mexican food. We worked the food truck on Cinco de Mayo in Venice and some drunk guy gave me $20 for a free sample. That was a shining moment of pride for my jaded ego.
When we weren’t in the food truck, we were in the RV. Twice a week we had to move the RV to avoid street sweeping tickets.

Sounds easy, but it wasn’t. Imagine playing Tetris but with cars and parking spaces.

One night I was alone in the RV and I heard a knock on the door. This drunk dude wielding a bag of El Pollo Loco is like “You want a burrito?” I invited him in and this guy- this total fucking stranger- criticized the way my wrists go limp when I sit. He said, “This is how a man keeps his wrists!”
Full disclosure- the reason my wrists go limp when I’m at rest, I play a lot of guitar. I play other instruments too, but those muscles are extremely tight, and any chance I get to keep them at complete rest, I take.

I woke up the next day and I found he forgot his keys in the RV. I met up with him later to give him his keys back and he was a completely different person. Very shy, reserved and embarrassed about his behavior the night before. I was cordial and laughed it off. He didn’t seem to share the same sentiments.

I had people over at the RV a few times, But after a month and a half it dawned on me, Raj hadn’t paid me a dime. Living in this RV was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth. I took my grievances to Raj.
Raj had his hands full because he hired this bald guy named Clint, who ended up quitting in less than a week and we were supposed to be working some big festival that we did not have the manpower for.

That Clint dude was like in his 30s and his mom came with him to the job interview. He stayed in the 2^nd RV until he quit.

I walked into our RV one day and saw Clint playing my guitar and I about ripped his fucking head off. I ranted to the tune of “ask first, if it’s not yours don’t touch it, I don’t touch your shit.”

I tell Raj my grievances and he comes at me with the energy of a sad puppy, “Well I need you for this festival this weekend. Does your girlfriend want to work the festival too?” I was like bro, don’t drag anyone else into this shit, are you gonna pay me? He said yes, I held my breath and said, “Okay lets go”

DJ and I drive the RV to J Tree, Raj drives the food truck. DJ and I get there mid-day and I’m immediately fraternizing with the hippies. There’s a lot of women there. I ended up getting so many phone numbers it was disgusting. When I was washing the dishes in the communal
dish area I also stumbled across a horse head mask which I took. I found out later that the horse head mask was definitely a furry mask, and I have since passed it along it to someone. The circle of life.

The festival’s focus was yoga and meditation. It’s an alcohol free event, and on day one, Raj’s girlfriend shows up with a bag full of beer. Two hours into running the food truck she ran off with some Indian dude “on some spiritual walk” (whatever that means).

I drank all her Bud Lights and she was a little put off by my
boorishness. I explained my behavior isn’t personal, your boyfriend has not paid me and this is where we’re at.
Well I bent the right ear. At the end of the
festival, despite arguing every possible claim he could against the hours I worked, he did pay me about $100 less than what he really owed me. He claimed to deduct for bathroom breaks and smoke breaks. He then told me I smell like beer as I washed my hands clean of the fucker.

The next day I borrowed some money from some friends and left LA to move across country and drive a sixteen seater party bike.

To be continued.