"yeah. Chef's can be very territorial. My dad is one, for a hotel buffet.  Seems like very hectic work." He shrugged his shoulders. "Erk. Spice. I like flavorful foods, but I can't stand spicy." He chatted casually until the elevator door opened up for them, and moved in after Summer.<br/><br/>"My dad always said you eat with your eyes first, your nose second, and your mouth last. So appearance, smell, and taste are really important. But some times, the presentation can just be over-the-top." He seemed a bit distracted, for some odd reason, as he spoke.<br/><br/>"Ouch. That's a raw deal, Summer.  The guy sounds like a prick." He snorted derisively, before taking his turn to answer the question. "I grew up in Massachusetts, but once I made a big splash on the music scene, I went all over the place. I'm pretty sure I've been to every continental state.  I'll be damned if I can remember, though. It was always rush, rush, rush, rush. Like pulling teeth to just get five minutes to myself."