Chestnuts, part 1

I wanted to write a brief comical piece about a chestnut incident before I write my conflicting one.  I know probably not the greatest way to start out with some embarrassing comedic relief, but, hey that's how I write.  Raw and direct.  I'm sure there's a writers law out there against this because it may come across as petty and sometimes obnoxious. 

In a kitchen there are many expectations that have to be met when you want to climb la cucina ladder. To make it, a great chef has to have an extensive amount of knowledge regarding food, extremely strong organizational skills, excellent knife skills and an ability to talk a massive amount of shit.  Support can be exceptionally important because, I guarantee you that no one! and I mean no one!  will like you, at first.  If you do not gain the support and respect of the lead people in the kitchen you will fail.  Especially if you are a women.  I'm only speaking from experience here. 
It is a fundamental mystery to me that why, when a women walks into a professional kitchen she can be made an automatic target. 
Although if she is a baker or a pastry chef its doesn't appear to be as difficult.  Becoming acclimated, I mean.  Pastry is a difficult department as well.
A chef's ability to cook is not the only way to survive in a kitchen.  Yeah, I do use the word survive.  Perhaps I am being a little dramatic.  But after each kitchen I have worked in I visualize leaving a war zone.   Not necessarily lost but each has left me a little more wounded but knowledgeable.
I can cook and I can lead.  But to combine these two very redeemable attributes and make them work harmoniously with people who generally have less education, machismo, strong language barriers, and probably know a lot about food.  Gotta be honest.  I am still trying to find the magic that makes it work. 
Gotta have a large set of balls, that's a damn good start!!