Back in the days when I was at Uni studying photography, I used to date a chef. Many of my photos were of him in the kitchen or hanging with his colleagues during breaks.
We rarely see chefs when we eat out. We're there for the food and the company. We don't see the gritty, fast-paced kitchen where a team of people rush around madly to produce our food. We don't see the confined space they manage to manoeuvre past each other in or feel the heat and sweat that comes from working in close proximity to ovens and gas burners.
Every now and then we see a chef or two escaping the pressure of the kitchen. Distinguished not only by their uniform but also by an air of fatigue. They seek out a quiet location and take some time slow down and detach from the adrenalin rush that has accompanied them for the last hour or more. They languish. They smoke. They enjoy a few peaceful moments together before heading back to the engine room.