Who F%&ked With My Meez?!?!?

I believe I have found a career in which my anal-retentive organizational skills are not only acceptable, but encouraged and applauded. It is also, by the way, perfectly acceptable to completely freak out if someone "moves your cheese," or in my case, my bench scraper.

Your "meez," ladies and gentleman, is your mise en place, and is your lifeline. This is your setup, your station, your mecca. Every line cook, pastry chef, baker, and decorator has their own meez, and woe unto you if you do anything to come between them and the perfect meez. Everything is in order, in the same order, so you never have to think about what you're reaching for; it's just there. Always. The fastest way to incur the wrath of anyone in the food service industry is to mess with their station.

So what happened, you ask? Nothing huge. Except I came back from my days off and bins were put back in the "wrong" order, one of the bench scrapers was missing (yes, I need two), and I couldn't find a scoring knife ANYWHERE. My question is this: what do day shift line cooks and cashiers need a bench scraper and a scoring knife for?? Certainly not anything they're intended for. When you're in the middle of panning up one set of bread, pulling another out of the proof box, and watching the bake on another set of bread, I don't have the time to go wandering around the kitchen looking for something that should be in my drawer where I left it.

People, you don't touch someone's tools. Would you walk into a mechanic's shop, pick up a tool, use it for something it's not intended for, and then put it back in a different place? Please think of us like this. We're like mechanics, if mechanics actually had to fix your car within a few hours.