He hasn't called or sent me in text in four days, Andrea thought. It was strange, she was glad in some ways, because before they had been non-stop, incessant. Still, the silence was strange, she wondered if something was up. He could be a psycho, she thought, a ticking bomb waiting to blow. Isn't that what they usually said about serial killers? When the interviewed the neighbors? That they all seemed to normal, happy, well balanced? She had always hoped to see, just once, a neighbor say the exact opposite an obvious anti-social asshole who was bound to snap. Someone whose contempt and hatred for humanity was clear the moment he stepped through the door. There had to be a few cases like that, ones that were just clear cut and obvious. It had to be denial though, in some ways. After all, who would like to think that the seemingly normal person they had been living next to for years in fact had a massive stash of children bodies underneath his backyard? So they would blind themselves to the truth.
He'll be fine, she thought absently. There are plenty of seemingly normal people walking around who are, in fact, psychos. The thought came into her head, unbidden. Those who tow the line for years, show up to work on time, get married, have families, who just snap one day. Lose it, go on a rampage. She had always found it interesting how sometimes beneath ordinary simple facades their could live complex worlds. The hitman who does a job and then comes home to his wife and kids like any other 9 to 5 shmuck. Andrea checked the time on her phone, almost 11. Kevin would be over soon, she picked up a bud and put it in her bong, it always helped when dealing with Kevin. He was nice enough to her, and he seemed like a good guy,
but he always seemed to have a story, some kind of long complex reason why he didn't have any money, or something like that. The fact he didn't have any money didn't even bother her, it was just the complex explanation, the lie, that he felt the need to concoct that irked her.
She heard her phone ring just as she was considering giving up this going out business altogether. 'Hey, you ready?' She heard Kevin say. 'Yeah, give me a minute.' She ran and grabbed her weed and her bowl, as she was walking outside she heard a text. She looked at it briefly as she walked outside, 'Hey.' It said. That's were you've been, she thought..
I need to fire that man, Sam thought as he sat in the shed, looking outside to see if anything had happened. That corrupt, ineffectual, ruler who is currently bringing my country to the brink of ruin. I need to give a vote of no-confidence, a special election, or if need be topple that fool in a military coup. It had been a quiet nice for the most part, except that his co-worker had left a little before ten, saying he was going 'out for a smoke,' and then never returning. Normally, at a normal establishment, he would be assured that this person would be fired, terminated as soon as news of what they had done was reported. But this was the diner, and it would likely be a long time before anything was done. Sam put another bud in his corncob pipe, as he lit it up he heard his phone ding, 'Want to hang later :)'? the message said. It was her, perhaps the silence had worked, the absence had made the heart grow fonder. Maybe, still, it couldn't last much longer, he would hold onto it as long as he could.
Maybe it still had a chance, maybe I could turn things around. It was all possible of course, he knew. Like waking up early in the morning, going to the gym, not drinking all the time, such things were possible, but it was unlikely they would occur with him. If only I could switch characters, like in video games, play as someone else for a while. Have their strengths for a small amount of time, like feeling ok in your own skin. Have confidence, be able to talk to girls, get things done, wake up early in morning, things like that. To change the paradigm, Sam thought. He took another toke of the pipe, looking outside. The wind cried in the distance. He was also looking for Alex, that sneaky fucker. He liked to do the 'pop-in,' to stop by at random hours, to 'See how we were doing,' to 'Check up on us.' God I hate that man, Sam thought as he looked out onto the back door of the diner. His van was the only car parked out back, the waitress who was working likely to park in the front. It's like he's trying to catch us or something, Sam thought. Or that he wants to.
Sam looked at his phone, it was quarter past 11, less than an hour. I think I might grab a drink on the town when I get out, he thought. The Afterworks being the most obvious spot. They had the cheapest drinks, with one dollar shots. How long have I been out here? Time seemed to melt away in the shed sometimes. Between being high, and spacing out it good have been 5 minutes or 20. He put the pipe back into his backpack and headed outside. Sam put the backpack in his van, as he headed back inside he noticed the car. Blue, it was Alex's. Be cool, Sam thought as he headed back in.
As he put his apron on and walked back to the line he saw Alex standing there, wearing an apron. A couple of frybasket's were dropped, and two burgers were on the grill. 'Where were you?' Alex ask him as he walked back. 'I was out on a break.' Sam replied, already annoyed. 'What happened to Fred?' 'He walked outside for a break and never came back.' 'There needs to be one person on the line, at all times.' 'Ok.' Sam said. It was only two orders, which were simple and they put them out quickly. Alex said nothing but went out to the floor to talk to Sara, the waitress. He walked back over with a drink and sat down on the counter, he's going to be here for a while, Sam could see, he's just settling in. He had a few nips in the walk in freezer, just have to remember them. He walked through the kitchen door and looked around, it was empty. Alex didn't seemed to notice him, focusing instead on the waitress, Sara. She was young, 19, cute, maybe that will keep him distracted. When it came down to it, Alex didn't really want to do more work then he had to. Sam walked to the line and to the back to the freezer. He took the nip of whiskey he had in the freezer and took it down in one gulp. It burned, all the way down, into his core. It seemed to warm the whole body up.
Sam put the remaining little bottles in his pocket and walked back out onto the line, still no tickets. Alex was in the same place. He looked through the window at the clock, only ten minutes left. 3rd shift would be here soon and that would be a whole other distraction, he could slide out of here easily. He took another quick look around, still empty. He had had some day's when he worked where he had only done 6 tickets the whole night. This place is on the decline, Sam thought to himself. This business with the bar, it could be trouble, the police do watch that place. The best strategy would be to constrain himself to only a few, to not 'go too crazy.' He thought. That's the rationale talking. It will do anything to get you to bend to its will, and he usually did. Well it's going to be midnight anyway, how many drinks could I possibly drink in such a short amount of time?
Friday, November 28, 2014
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Power is a curious thing.
Headquarters
Dave stared at the monitor wishing it was later. Wishing it was later, 5 or 6 sometime in the evening when it would be justifiable to leave, when it would look as if he had done something, had put in a full day of rewarding productive work. It had been a dozen years or more since that had been the case. 'Rewarding work, a paradox if there ever was one. He had sat there staring for the past two hours, staring at the monitor opening the browser just keeping it there, to keep up the illusion that he was doing actual work. Most of his day usually consisted of that, with some breaks to eat and go to the bathroom. He managed to get by, he knew mainly because his superiors trusted him, knew who he was. Probably didn't want to go through the hassle of having to hire a new district manager who would accept his salary. Although it would most likely be lower, Dave thought as he looked out the window. It was a clear day, not a cloud in the sky, and he wanted to just jump out the window. To disappear, to vanish. He often thought of it driving home, what would happen if he simply veered into the side of the road, or drove into oncoming traffic.
The email's were there, he knew they were there. He had been dreading opening his email from the moment he sat down at his desk. He had opened the browser, staring at the search bar for an hour. I've created a monster, Dave thought. At first he had though Alex would take most of the flak for his own fuck-up's but instead they honed in on him. Because he had vouched for Alex so fervently, he was also responsible, in their mind for everything he did. He opened his email finally, entering his password, fuck. 75 unread messages and the top 20 were from Steve Rogers, his boss. He opened the first one skimming the contents of it to get the basic gist of it. Apparently Steve and a few others from corporate had gone down to the diner for lunch a couple of weeks ago, and it had all gone bad. Bad service, bad food, and the bathrooms had been disgusting, according to them. They were blaming him, instead of Alex, saying he should have been on it.
Dave looked at the clock, it was a little past eleven. He knew he could always bring it all down on Alex say his job is in jeopardy, and then in turn Alex would likely place the blame on someone further down. I need something, he had gone through all of his Xanax's in the past four days and he knew his doctor was unlikely to prescribe him more. I could always crush my toe, get on some kind of painkiller. He had never used drugs before, he'd had a beer or two but hadn't ever done much more than that. He tried pot once, but it made him paranoid. It wasn't until he started working for the company that the problems had started. Dave could see why Frank had gone down the path he had, succumbing to alcohol, possibly burning the place down. The company seemed to only acknowledge it's employee's when they had done something wrong and never when they had done anything good. Steve want's to write some emails, Dave thought, I can write some of my own. Shit flows downhill, he would blame Alex, Alex would blame someone down the line and it would become their problem. He looked at the time on his computer, only six more hours to go.
Dave opened his email clicking on 'compose', the hardest button to hit. It was hard because it meant action, it meant he would have to do something. To create something out of nothing, that was hard. He had started many emails, but often had a hard time finishing them. A hard time actually telling his bosses what was actually on his mind, but now it came easily. Alex would do as he was told, that was why he hired him.
'I spent 300 dollars and I hired a private investigator. Found out some things about his past.' Gary spoke as a haze of cigarette smoke hung around his head, the smell of mildew and the perpetual must that seemed to hang about the shed. I wonder how much weed has been smoked in here? Sam thought as Gary smoke. How many drugs have been done in here? What horrible acts of debauchery have gone on in his place. Gary seemed a bit more optimistic than usual, as if hope for him had been partially restored somehow. Apparently Alex had something of a shady past, although Gary was vague as usual. 'Maybe you can get something on him?' Sam offered hoping to prolong the conversation. It was somewhere between 11:30 and midnight and Sam knew one of the easiest ways to knock out that half-hour was to have a cigarette with Gary, which could range from 15 minutes to a half-hour. Just get him talking, there had been no orders out there, so they had gone outside for a little bit.
'I know he's stealing time, Punching in at 8 in the morning and clocking out around 9.' Gary remarked. Sam nodded. It was an open secret among most of the staff. Alex would clock in around eight, sometimes earlier , would work for an hour or so, and then clock out later. 'If I can just get someone to record it, we can get him.' 'Yup.' Sam said, as Gary continued. It seemed to him all something of a show, a farce. Of course Gary wasn't going to cede control easily, but it was obvious who was going to win this. The company had hired Alex, who was doing all he could to fuck with Gary, and the person the company hired was obviously going to come out on top. He thought about saying something, but he knew it was in vain. Conversations with Gary were always one sided, as if you were talking to a sililoquy in a play. It was always about him, it didn't matter if you had just mentioned something else, he would steer the conversation back to him.
Sam checked his phone, it was ten minutes to 12, 'Maybe we should check if there's any orders.' Sam offered. 'Yeah, probably.' Gary said and put out his cigarette. It was in an old bowl labeled, 'butts' magic marker. Sam walked outside first, feeling a blast of cold air. The familiar diner smell greeted him as he walked in, fries, hamburger grease, it was only as he walked through the office that he noticed it, a note. It hadn't been there before. He was here, Sam thought as he skimmed the contents of it. It was the usual list of grievances, plus something about a few of the big shots from corporate coming here, and the bathroom being disgusting. Gary had walked past the note when he first came in, before he noticed it. 'We got a love letter I see?' He remarked. 'Yeah.' Sam replied. On some levels it was good to know Gary was likely to be gone soon, on the other hand, who knew about the new boss?
Dave stared at the monitor wishing it was later. Wishing it was later, 5 or 6 sometime in the evening when it would be justifiable to leave, when it would look as if he had done something, had put in a full day of rewarding productive work. It had been a dozen years or more since that had been the case. 'Rewarding work, a paradox if there ever was one. He had sat there staring for the past two hours, staring at the monitor opening the browser just keeping it there, to keep up the illusion that he was doing actual work. Most of his day usually consisted of that, with some breaks to eat and go to the bathroom. He managed to get by, he knew mainly because his superiors trusted him, knew who he was. Probably didn't want to go through the hassle of having to hire a new district manager who would accept his salary. Although it would most likely be lower, Dave thought as he looked out the window. It was a clear day, not a cloud in the sky, and he wanted to just jump out the window. To disappear, to vanish. He often thought of it driving home, what would happen if he simply veered into the side of the road, or drove into oncoming traffic.
The email's were there, he knew they were there. He had been dreading opening his email from the moment he sat down at his desk. He had opened the browser, staring at the search bar for an hour. I've created a monster, Dave thought. At first he had though Alex would take most of the flak for his own fuck-up's but instead they honed in on him. Because he had vouched for Alex so fervently, he was also responsible, in their mind for everything he did. He opened his email finally, entering his password, fuck. 75 unread messages and the top 20 were from Steve Rogers, his boss. He opened the first one skimming the contents of it to get the basic gist of it. Apparently Steve and a few others from corporate had gone down to the diner for lunch a couple of weeks ago, and it had all gone bad. Bad service, bad food, and the bathrooms had been disgusting, according to them. They were blaming him, instead of Alex, saying he should have been on it.
Dave looked at the clock, it was a little past eleven. He knew he could always bring it all down on Alex say his job is in jeopardy, and then in turn Alex would likely place the blame on someone further down. I need something, he had gone through all of his Xanax's in the past four days and he knew his doctor was unlikely to prescribe him more. I could always crush my toe, get on some kind of painkiller. He had never used drugs before, he'd had a beer or two but hadn't ever done much more than that. He tried pot once, but it made him paranoid. It wasn't until he started working for the company that the problems had started. Dave could see why Frank had gone down the path he had, succumbing to alcohol, possibly burning the place down. The company seemed to only acknowledge it's employee's when they had done something wrong and never when they had done anything good. Steve want's to write some emails, Dave thought, I can write some of my own. Shit flows downhill, he would blame Alex, Alex would blame someone down the line and it would become their problem. He looked at the time on his computer, only six more hours to go.
Dave opened his email clicking on 'compose', the hardest button to hit. It was hard because it meant action, it meant he would have to do something. To create something out of nothing, that was hard. He had started many emails, but often had a hard time finishing them. A hard time actually telling his bosses what was actually on his mind, but now it came easily. Alex would do as he was told, that was why he hired him.
'I spent 300 dollars and I hired a private investigator. Found out some things about his past.' Gary spoke as a haze of cigarette smoke hung around his head, the smell of mildew and the perpetual must that seemed to hang about the shed. I wonder how much weed has been smoked in here? Sam thought as Gary smoke. How many drugs have been done in here? What horrible acts of debauchery have gone on in his place. Gary seemed a bit more optimistic than usual, as if hope for him had been partially restored somehow. Apparently Alex had something of a shady past, although Gary was vague as usual. 'Maybe you can get something on him?' Sam offered hoping to prolong the conversation. It was somewhere between 11:30 and midnight and Sam knew one of the easiest ways to knock out that half-hour was to have a cigarette with Gary, which could range from 15 minutes to a half-hour. Just get him talking, there had been no orders out there, so they had gone outside for a little bit.
'I know he's stealing time, Punching in at 8 in the morning and clocking out around 9.' Gary remarked. Sam nodded. It was an open secret among most of the staff. Alex would clock in around eight, sometimes earlier , would work for an hour or so, and then clock out later. 'If I can just get someone to record it, we can get him.' 'Yup.' Sam said, as Gary continued. It seemed to him all something of a show, a farce. Of course Gary wasn't going to cede control easily, but it was obvious who was going to win this. The company had hired Alex, who was doing all he could to fuck with Gary, and the person the company hired was obviously going to come out on top. He thought about saying something, but he knew it was in vain. Conversations with Gary were always one sided, as if you were talking to a sililoquy in a play. It was always about him, it didn't matter if you had just mentioned something else, he would steer the conversation back to him.
Sam checked his phone, it was ten minutes to 12, 'Maybe we should check if there's any orders.' Sam offered. 'Yeah, probably.' Gary said and put out his cigarette. It was in an old bowl labeled, 'butts' magic marker. Sam walked outside first, feeling a blast of cold air. The familiar diner smell greeted him as he walked in, fries, hamburger grease, it was only as he walked through the office that he noticed it, a note. It hadn't been there before. He was here, Sam thought as he skimmed the contents of it. It was the usual list of grievances, plus something about a few of the big shots from corporate coming here, and the bathroom being disgusting. Gary had walked past the note when he first came in, before he noticed it. 'We got a love letter I see?' He remarked. 'Yeah.' Sam replied. On some levels it was good to know Gary was likely to be gone soon, on the other hand, who knew about the new boss?
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
The wolf is at the door here.
She was just standing there, at the end of the line, watching him cook. At first Sam hadn't really noticed it because he had been too busy cooking, but after a couple of minutes it was hard to ignore. He could feel the eyes on him. She was new, cute, with a nice thick body that he always liked and cute brown eyes. Still she irked him, especially when she did things like this? 'Can I help you?' He asked, trying to mask the irritation he felt. 'No, just waiting.' She smiled again. She would do this sometimes, stand there if she felt an order was taking too long and just watch. As if her presence there would expedite the cooking process. And he knew for a fact she was hoping her looks would factor in, he could tell she had been using them to get things for a long time. Sam put up a burger and an omelette in the window. It wasn't that busy, only a few slips, but they were all fairly large tables, still it hadn't been that long, he had checked the clock outside several times. Why are you still here? He thought to himself. This is my dominion, this kitchen, when I'm cooking this is my house, and these fryolators, this grill, and this baine marie is my territory. Unless you have something to change in an order, or you're going to come back here and help me cook it, get the fuck out.
'It's coming up soon.' Sam said finally, mainly to just get her out. Her name was Abby and she was nice enough, except for that one thing. In many ways she had a lot of attributes that he would normally find appealing in a woman, dark hair, curvaceous body type, intelligence, a sense of humor. Still he knew it would never be possible, she was too much of an overachiever, the type that was trying to be everything. In all honesty he felt intimidated by it, it was too much. What would he possibly say to someone who had plans to study in Europe next year when he had been at the diner for 2 with no such plans on the horizon. She was too good also, he could tell. One time, he had been outside with Mike smoking a bowl in the shed and she had come out yelling to them to come back to cook orders when they had returned it had only been an order of fries. While she hadn't said anything to them about it, it was obvious, she knew what they were doing out there, and she didn't approve. He put up the last order in the window. He went out the door and looked around, all the menu's were gone and all the tables with people at them had their food.
He saw Lindsay at the coffee station brewing up another batch, 'How you hanging in there?' he asked her. 'Doing alright.' She replied. 'How's it going back there?' 'Pretty good.' Sam replied. Abby was on the other side of the dining room getting her table something. 'She's kind of annoying though.' He said in a low tone. 'I know,' Lindsay replied. 'We'll talk later,' He continued. 'Do you think I could step outside for a second?' He asked. 'Whose working with you?' She responded. 'Zach.' 'He's been out there for a while.' 'Yeah, at this point I'm used to it. I pretty much assume I'm going to be along behind the line.' She went around to give a refill to the table in the back. 'Ok go now, but you might want to get Zach back in here. I think this girl might be a snitch.' Sam nodded and got up. Good old Lindsay. She has a good heart, Sam thought. He didn't know much about her, but from what he could gather about her past she had a turbulent past had become stronger because of it. He went in the door through the line and into the walk-in freezer. He had stashed two nips of whiskey behind the beef liver, he put one in his pocket and downed the other. The warm feeling cascading into his stomach. That sweet burn, he thought.
Normally he wouldn't have started drinking so early, but tonight he made an exception. When he had gone over to Andrea's last night it was obvious it was over, although she hadn't quite said as such. They had hung out, had sex, smoked a little, and then she had dropped a bombshell, 'Why do you still like me so much?' she had asked, nonchalantly. Like asking what time the game was on. She had gone to to explain how there was nothing much keeping their relationships together, that they had no common interests, no glue, no mortar to hold the bricks. It was, in many ways, the same thing he had been thinking for a long time. He had protested, had attempted to plead his case, but it was all in vein, mainly for show. Mainly because he wasn't ready to be alone again. They had finally decided to 'take a break,' for a while, to 'cool off,' but that was all for show, he knew. She was trying to spare his feelings, to perhaps avoid the awkward confrontation that often occurs with a breakup.
Zach was smoking a cigarette and looking at his phone, 'How's it going man?' Sam said as he entered. 'Pretty good, anything going on in there?' Zach asked not looking up from his phone. 'No, not really a few tables.' 'Word.' Zach replied. Zach was hard to read sometimes, he was quiet alot of the time, and tended to keep a lot to himself. 'You have a bowl? Sam asked. 'Yeah, I got one.' Zach replied reaching into his jacket. 'Be careful around that new waitress, I think she might be a snitch.' Sam remarked. 'Yeah I could see that.' Sam went into his backpack and pulled out his bag. Zach handed him his glass bowl. Sam broke up a nug and stuffed it into the bowl. He took a hit and passed it to Zach. He looked at his phone, 8:30, word. He sent her a text, 'Want to get together tonight?', Zach passed the bowl back. I know this is a bad idea, Sam thought as he took his hit. Just let it cool down, but he couldn't, he couldn't leave it be. Not when that was how he left it. He wouldn't be sane as long as he remained in purgatory. 'It's pretty slow, do you think I could leave at like 9:30? He asked finally. 'Yeah.' Zach replied, somewhat reluctantly. Not that any good would come of his early departure, he knew. Most likely she wouldn't text him back, or if she didn't it wouldn't be what he wanted to hear. Still in many way's that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted oblivion, annihilation, darkness. To completely forget who he was for the rest of the night.
'It's coming up soon.' Sam said finally, mainly to just get her out. Her name was Abby and she was nice enough, except for that one thing. In many ways she had a lot of attributes that he would normally find appealing in a woman, dark hair, curvaceous body type, intelligence, a sense of humor. Still he knew it would never be possible, she was too much of an overachiever, the type that was trying to be everything. In all honesty he felt intimidated by it, it was too much. What would he possibly say to someone who had plans to study in Europe next year when he had been at the diner for 2 with no such plans on the horizon. She was too good also, he could tell. One time, he had been outside with Mike smoking a bowl in the shed and she had come out yelling to them to come back to cook orders when they had returned it had only been an order of fries. While she hadn't said anything to them about it, it was obvious, she knew what they were doing out there, and she didn't approve. He put up the last order in the window. He went out the door and looked around, all the menu's were gone and all the tables with people at them had their food.
He saw Lindsay at the coffee station brewing up another batch, 'How you hanging in there?' he asked her. 'Doing alright.' She replied. 'How's it going back there?' 'Pretty good.' Sam replied. Abby was on the other side of the dining room getting her table something. 'She's kind of annoying though.' He said in a low tone. 'I know,' Lindsay replied. 'We'll talk later,' He continued. 'Do you think I could step outside for a second?' He asked. 'Whose working with you?' She responded. 'Zach.' 'He's been out there for a while.' 'Yeah, at this point I'm used to it. I pretty much assume I'm going to be along behind the line.' She went around to give a refill to the table in the back. 'Ok go now, but you might want to get Zach back in here. I think this girl might be a snitch.' Sam nodded and got up. Good old Lindsay. She has a good heart, Sam thought. He didn't know much about her, but from what he could gather about her past she had a turbulent past had become stronger because of it. He went in the door through the line and into the walk-in freezer. He had stashed two nips of whiskey behind the beef liver, he put one in his pocket and downed the other. The warm feeling cascading into his stomach. That sweet burn, he thought.
Normally he wouldn't have started drinking so early, but tonight he made an exception. When he had gone over to Andrea's last night it was obvious it was over, although she hadn't quite said as such. They had hung out, had sex, smoked a little, and then she had dropped a bombshell, 'Why do you still like me so much?' she had asked, nonchalantly. Like asking what time the game was on. She had gone to to explain how there was nothing much keeping their relationships together, that they had no common interests, no glue, no mortar to hold the bricks. It was, in many ways, the same thing he had been thinking for a long time. He had protested, had attempted to plead his case, but it was all in vein, mainly for show. Mainly because he wasn't ready to be alone again. They had finally decided to 'take a break,' for a while, to 'cool off,' but that was all for show, he knew. She was trying to spare his feelings, to perhaps avoid the awkward confrontation that often occurs with a breakup.
Zach was smoking a cigarette and looking at his phone, 'How's it going man?' Sam said as he entered. 'Pretty good, anything going on in there?' Zach asked not looking up from his phone. 'No, not really a few tables.' 'Word.' Zach replied. Zach was hard to read sometimes, he was quiet alot of the time, and tended to keep a lot to himself. 'You have a bowl? Sam asked. 'Yeah, I got one.' Zach replied reaching into his jacket. 'Be careful around that new waitress, I think she might be a snitch.' Sam remarked. 'Yeah I could see that.' Sam went into his backpack and pulled out his bag. Zach handed him his glass bowl. Sam broke up a nug and stuffed it into the bowl. He took a hit and passed it to Zach. He looked at his phone, 8:30, word. He sent her a text, 'Want to get together tonight?', Zach passed the bowl back. I know this is a bad idea, Sam thought as he took his hit. Just let it cool down, but he couldn't, he couldn't leave it be. Not when that was how he left it. He wouldn't be sane as long as he remained in purgatory. 'It's pretty slow, do you think I could leave at like 9:30? He asked finally. 'Yeah.' Zach replied, somewhat reluctantly. Not that any good would come of his early departure, he knew. Most likely she wouldn't text him back, or if she didn't it wouldn't be what he wanted to hear. Still in many way's that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted oblivion, annihilation, darkness. To completely forget who he was for the rest of the night.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Were up all night to get lucky
Feel's like I'm here working alone, Sam thought as he took an order of meatloaf out of the microwave and slid it unto a plate. There were five tickets on the board, he had everything started, but it had been coming in steadily the entire night. It wasn't slammed, he knew if it was really bad he could go to the back and get Mike, who was prepping, but it was still constant. And he had been going for over 3 hours without a single break. Still even when he did get Mike to help him on the line, Mike seemed put out. Irritated at having to give him assistance. He poured some Gravy on the meatloaf and put it in the window along with a burger. The reason Mike was in the back was because of Alex, who had declared that one person should always be in the back prepping while another person works the line. He wouldn't have minded prepping but whenever he was in the back prepping Mike would come along and point out something he was doing wrong. Because of this he found it easier to simply have Mike do all the prepping because he did everything Alex's way, went along with everything he said.
It's smart, Sam thought, he can see where the tide is turning. Where the new regime is going. Everyone else tried to fight it. Nobody really likes him, Sam thought. From the grizzled old cooks on first shift to most of the younger waitstaff on second, everyone opinions about him were negative. It was getting worse, Alex accused most everyone on the staff of being lazy and/or incompetent, of course he did with thinly veiled comments. Notes, about the 'culture,' how things were soon going to change. If anyone didn't like it, there was the door. Sam had tried to stay out of it as much as possible, but he knew that pretty soon neutrality wouldn't be an option. Alex had already started to threaten to stay longer on night shifts to make sure things were being done, and it seemed likely to happen soon. Already he was seeing more and more of him, he was staying later. Or Sam would come in at 4 and he would come back at 7 or 9 to 'Check in' on them as he liked to say. As if they were children who needed constant monitoring. There was a rumor going around that he came back to punch out, that he would come in early in the morning leave mid-afternoon, and return later in the evening, to make it look like he was working the 10 plus hour days he was hired to do.
Sam put up the last order, a western omelette, in the window and took down the last ticket, spiking it. He went out the kitchen door, 'I'm going outside for a bit.' He told Lindsay as she was grabbing the last order. 'Ok,' She said, occupied. He walked through the line, into the prep area. Mike was slicing portioning sliced ham, 'I'm going outside for a bit, there's no orders up now. I haven't had a break since I got here.' 'I haven't had one either.' Mike replied barely looking up from his work. It was hard to know what to say to something like that, so because you don't get a break no one does. Instead he answered, 'Well, when I come back in you can take one.' Mike nodded, grumbling something. What a fucking asshole, Sam thought as he walked outside to the shed. So far, the consensus on Mike was mainly positive, he seemed cool enough, he smoked weed in the shed, seemed like an ok guy, but Sam always felt wary of him. He thought he was probably a spy, and he knew for a fact that he was telling Alex things about what went one when he wasn't here. Although, he was probably smart enough to omit the fact that he was doing these things with people also. Sam went over to his backpack which he had put in the shed, and took out his pipe. It was a simple affair, corncob, but it had a deep bowl. He took out his bag of weed and broke up a large bud and put it in the pipe.
He took his first hit, holding it in, watching the smoke fill the shed as he exhaled. I should call her, he thought as he took his second hit, Andrea, he hadn't talked to her in two days. They had exchanged brief text's but nothing substantial. He had done it mainly to make sure there was still something there. I have to hold unto this dead relationship, he thought, I have to make this work somehow. There's still a chance. I won't go back there, to single-land, to being alone. Like being put right back in the unemployment line, I've been in that goddamn too long to go back. I might be too late, but maybe, just maybe, there was some kind of hope. The last time they had been together she had mentioned that they had nothing in common, no common interests, except that they both liked to smoke pot, fuck, and sleep. I've got to make it about something, he thought as he finished his bowl. It can't be beyond redemption. He took his phone out of his pocket and checked the time, 7 minutes, ok not too long. He dialed Andrea's number. It rang several times before he heard her voice. 'Hey.' It sounded warm, sweet even. 'How's it going?' He asked, trying not to sound too anxious but sounding that way anyway. 'Pretty good, I'm just hanging here. Reading a book. What time do you get out?' She wants to see me, he thought. 'Ten, I think.' He responded. 'Good, I was thinking maybe we should have a little talk.' Fuck, Sam thought. I was thinking he shouldn't. I was actually hoping things could just stay exactly as they are. She said it so sweetly too, innocently, as if all they were going to do was having a nice chat. 'Ok, I mean what's there to talk about?' He asked, regretting it as the words came out of his mouth. There was a long pause on the other end of the line, 'You know, about us.' She said maintaining her sweet disposition. 'Don't worry, it's not a big deal.' 'Alright,' Sam replied. 'I'll see you at ten. Love you.' 'Love you.' She replied, but the words sounded hollow.
Sam hung up the phone, he took another bud out of his bag and stuffed it in the pipe. As he took another hit he saw Mike coming out the back door. 'You going to come in and help me with these orders?' He said forcefully as he came out. Sam put the pipe in his bag, putting the bag away as he walked back inside. The were three tickets on the board, 'I just need a large fry' Mike said as he walked in. Sam pulled up a basket of fires and poured him into a hat handing them to Mike. He looked at the slips, A burger and fries, a large fry and an order of pancakes. 'I already did the first two,' Mike said as he put the large fry in the window. This is what was so urgent? What you so desperately needed my help for? Sam thought. Mike walked into the back. I gotta get out of here, Sam thought.
It's smart, Sam thought, he can see where the tide is turning. Where the new regime is going. Everyone else tried to fight it. Nobody really likes him, Sam thought. From the grizzled old cooks on first shift to most of the younger waitstaff on second, everyone opinions about him were negative. It was getting worse, Alex accused most everyone on the staff of being lazy and/or incompetent, of course he did with thinly veiled comments. Notes, about the 'culture,' how things were soon going to change. If anyone didn't like it, there was the door. Sam had tried to stay out of it as much as possible, but he knew that pretty soon neutrality wouldn't be an option. Alex had already started to threaten to stay longer on night shifts to make sure things were being done, and it seemed likely to happen soon. Already he was seeing more and more of him, he was staying later. Or Sam would come in at 4 and he would come back at 7 or 9 to 'Check in' on them as he liked to say. As if they were children who needed constant monitoring. There was a rumor going around that he came back to punch out, that he would come in early in the morning leave mid-afternoon, and return later in the evening, to make it look like he was working the 10 plus hour days he was hired to do.
Sam put up the last order, a western omelette, in the window and took down the last ticket, spiking it. He went out the kitchen door, 'I'm going outside for a bit.' He told Lindsay as she was grabbing the last order. 'Ok,' She said, occupied. He walked through the line, into the prep area. Mike was slicing portioning sliced ham, 'I'm going outside for a bit, there's no orders up now. I haven't had a break since I got here.' 'I haven't had one either.' Mike replied barely looking up from his work. It was hard to know what to say to something like that, so because you don't get a break no one does. Instead he answered, 'Well, when I come back in you can take one.' Mike nodded, grumbling something. What a fucking asshole, Sam thought as he walked outside to the shed. So far, the consensus on Mike was mainly positive, he seemed cool enough, he smoked weed in the shed, seemed like an ok guy, but Sam always felt wary of him. He thought he was probably a spy, and he knew for a fact that he was telling Alex things about what went one when he wasn't here. Although, he was probably smart enough to omit the fact that he was doing these things with people also. Sam went over to his backpack which he had put in the shed, and took out his pipe. It was a simple affair, corncob, but it had a deep bowl. He took out his bag of weed and broke up a large bud and put it in the pipe.
He took his first hit, holding it in, watching the smoke fill the shed as he exhaled. I should call her, he thought as he took his second hit, Andrea, he hadn't talked to her in two days. They had exchanged brief text's but nothing substantial. He had done it mainly to make sure there was still something there. I have to hold unto this dead relationship, he thought, I have to make this work somehow. There's still a chance. I won't go back there, to single-land, to being alone. Like being put right back in the unemployment line, I've been in that goddamn too long to go back. I might be too late, but maybe, just maybe, there was some kind of hope. The last time they had been together she had mentioned that they had nothing in common, no common interests, except that they both liked to smoke pot, fuck, and sleep. I've got to make it about something, he thought as he finished his bowl. It can't be beyond redemption. He took his phone out of his pocket and checked the time, 7 minutes, ok not too long. He dialed Andrea's number. It rang several times before he heard her voice. 'Hey.' It sounded warm, sweet even. 'How's it going?' He asked, trying not to sound too anxious but sounding that way anyway. 'Pretty good, I'm just hanging here. Reading a book. What time do you get out?' She wants to see me, he thought. 'Ten, I think.' He responded. 'Good, I was thinking maybe we should have a little talk.' Fuck, Sam thought. I was thinking he shouldn't. I was actually hoping things could just stay exactly as they are. She said it so sweetly too, innocently, as if all they were going to do was having a nice chat. 'Ok, I mean what's there to talk about?' He asked, regretting it as the words came out of his mouth. There was a long pause on the other end of the line, 'You know, about us.' She said maintaining her sweet disposition. 'Don't worry, it's not a big deal.' 'Alright,' Sam replied. 'I'll see you at ten. Love you.' 'Love you.' She replied, but the words sounded hollow.
Sam hung up the phone, he took another bud out of his bag and stuffed it in the pipe. As he took another hit he saw Mike coming out the back door. 'You going to come in and help me with these orders?' He said forcefully as he came out. Sam put the pipe in his bag, putting the bag away as he walked back inside. The were three tickets on the board, 'I just need a large fry' Mike said as he walked in. Sam pulled up a basket of fires and poured him into a hat handing them to Mike. He looked at the slips, A burger and fries, a large fry and an order of pancakes. 'I already did the first two,' Mike said as he put the large fry in the window. This is what was so urgent? What you so desperately needed my help for? Sam thought. Mike walked into the back. I gotta get out of here, Sam thought.
Monday, September 15, 2014
My writer's group in 1975
1982
This is the last one on my list, Frank Richards thought as he pulled into the parking lot of the Deerfield truckstop diner. It was the only other place that had called him back and he had applied at 10 other places already. He had gone everywhere, grocery stores, convenience stores, even a couple factories, even though the idea of stacking boxes in a warehouse had zero appeal to him. It doesn't matter what I want, Frank had thought. He was married with a kid on the way and he had to find something. He parked out front, close to the entrance. There was a pile of old snow near the entrance, melted with that layer of dirt and salt that always comes when snow has been sitting somewhere for a long time. He looked at his watch, ten minutes, he thought. Enough time to walk over to the gas station and buy a couple scratch tickets, he thought as he got out of his car. Maybe I'll win a couple million and I can forget this whole thing he thought to himself as he walked across the parking lot toward the gas station. The thought brought a smile to his face, however briefly. He hadn't smile in a long time, he seldom did. His mother had told him that, he had always been serious, even as a child. As if he came out of the womb with a suit and tie and a whole boatload of paperwork to finish. As he walked into the gas station he could feel that heat, he ordered two scratch ticket's and a pack of cigarettes. 'Fucking cold out there.' He said to the clerk as her the money. 'I know it.' She replied. 'I'm going for an interview over at the diner.' He remarked. 'Oh really?' She replied, an interesting look on her face. She was an older woman with greying hair and a gruff demeanor. 'It's like a zoo over there they go through people pretty quick.' She handed him his change. Frank wasn't sure how to respond to that. 'Well, good luck.' She said finally as he was leaving. 'Thanks.' Frank manged. There was something strange, Frank thought, about someone working for the same company actively discouraging someone from working there. Oh well, she's probably been here for a long time.
Frank took out a coin from his pocket and started scratching as he made his way across the parking lot, nothing of course. He tossed the ticket into the trashcan by the entrance as he walked inside, there was a chill that seemed to follow him as he entered the restaurant. Smoke filled the air, it was the first thing he noticed. He smoked also, but even to him it seemed excessive. A few grizzled truckers at the counter gave him looks as he walked up to it. The heat is on, but it doesn't seem to be working. He caught the eye of the first waitress he could find, a stout woman with a hardened look to her. 'Excuse me, I have an interview with Bob.' She gave him a glazed look at first before responding, 'He's in the office, I'll get him.' Do I really want to work here? Frank thought as he looked around. There was the coffepot, behind which was a massive neon clock. Everything metallic and shiny. He had been working at his friends software company before, before his friend had made a series of bad business decisions which had resulted in the company going bankrupt. He hadn't anticipated being out among the job seeking public again, and on the phone Bob had mentioned it was slightly above average compensation.
I'm overdressed for this, Frank thought as he waited. He had a blue dress shirt and tie, it just seemed natural to him. His mother had once told him he was always that way. She even joked that he had emerged from the womb in a dress shirt and tie. Frank saw him emerge before he spoke, a tall man with a dress shirt and tie. 'Frank?' He asked as he came out from the back. 'Yeah.' Bob replied. 'Nice to meet you.' He shook his hand. He had a good handshake, firm, but not too long. 'Let's have a seat over here.' He gestured toward a booth in the back. Frank followed him, feeling at ease.
Bob eased into the booth and Frank followed. 'Frank, I've been reviewing you're resume and it's quite impressive. I just wanted to remind you that this is an entry level position. Now if you do good, there a possibility that you could move up, but right now we're just looking for a dishwasher.' 'That's fine.' Frank replied. It all seemed strange, as the ad he had responded to had been for a dishwasher. 'I've worked in kitchen's before, I'm really just looking for anything.' Fuck, Frank thought as the words tumbled out. That didn't sound right. You couldn't say things like that, it sounded desperate. 'Ok.' Bob replied. 'Can you start tomorrow?' 'Alright.' Frank replied, feeling elated. It's OK, I could always find something else...
Something bad is going to happen, Sam thought as he drove to work. There was no way around it, so many avenues, angles, and ways it could come. He stared at the bright red 'R' on his van as just one example, basically inviting the cops to pull him over. That, of course, was the most obvious ways but there were many other ways it could come. He was in a dead relationship, he could tell that for sure. If it wasn't exactly dead it was on it's way out. There was nothing there, no glue keeping it together nothing feeding it. He knew that the moment that woman at the bar had offered to take him home. He had wanted to find something, some reason to say no, but it hadn't come. Nothing, and afterward there had been no guilt. Nothing, he had waited for it to come, but it never showed up. He had left afterward early in the morning before she had woken up, but he thought her name was 'Karen', or something like that. She was in her mid-40's and lived with her 19 year old daughter which made it even stranger, so he had left. In some ways he still wasn't sure why he had done it, it was impulsive, an instinct which he rarely indulged.
Most people meet me and think I'm chill and laid back, but it's all a facade. I am in fact a walking pile of neurotic anxiety waiting to come apart at a moment notice. It could all come apart, he thought, as he got closer to his job. Only a couple of lights to go, before he would be on. Order's coming in the printer going off, the orders piling up. Of course my job is also another area where it could all go wrong, where things could go awry. It was always hard to tell how thing were going over there, and with the new management it was even worse. Sam went through the second light and headed toward the diner. He checked the clock on his phone, 12 minutes, thank god, he thought. A least a little to get it together, he thought as he pulled into the lot. How many people has this place gone through? Sam thought as he got out of the van. How many managers, cooks, and waitstaff has it burned through?
He saw Gary as he walked toward the shed. 'How's it going?' He asked as he approached. Gary was there smoking a cigarette, but something was gone. He looked old, haggard, beaten. 'It's going.' Gary replied. It was strange seeing him this way, looking defeated. It was strange seeing him this way and something about it made him feel bad. 'A lot of prep to do?' He asked attempting to make conversation. 'Probably, you'll see.' Gary said finally and through his cigarette on the ground. As he walked off Sam noticed some writing on the front of the shed, 'FBR' Started 2/6/1982. In the same handwriting someone had written that date of the fire, in the same handwriting. 30 Years. Almost to the day. God, I got to get out of here, he thought.
This is the last one on my list, Frank Richards thought as he pulled into the parking lot of the Deerfield truckstop diner. It was the only other place that had called him back and he had applied at 10 other places already. He had gone everywhere, grocery stores, convenience stores, even a couple factories, even though the idea of stacking boxes in a warehouse had zero appeal to him. It doesn't matter what I want, Frank had thought. He was married with a kid on the way and he had to find something. He parked out front, close to the entrance. There was a pile of old snow near the entrance, melted with that layer of dirt and salt that always comes when snow has been sitting somewhere for a long time. He looked at his watch, ten minutes, he thought. Enough time to walk over to the gas station and buy a couple scratch tickets, he thought as he got out of his car. Maybe I'll win a couple million and I can forget this whole thing he thought to himself as he walked across the parking lot toward the gas station. The thought brought a smile to his face, however briefly. He hadn't smile in a long time, he seldom did. His mother had told him that, he had always been serious, even as a child. As if he came out of the womb with a suit and tie and a whole boatload of paperwork to finish. As he walked into the gas station he could feel that heat, he ordered two scratch ticket's and a pack of cigarettes. 'Fucking cold out there.' He said to the clerk as her the money. 'I know it.' She replied. 'I'm going for an interview over at the diner.' He remarked. 'Oh really?' She replied, an interesting look on her face. She was an older woman with greying hair and a gruff demeanor. 'It's like a zoo over there they go through people pretty quick.' She handed him his change. Frank wasn't sure how to respond to that. 'Well, good luck.' She said finally as he was leaving. 'Thanks.' Frank manged. There was something strange, Frank thought, about someone working for the same company actively discouraging someone from working there. Oh well, she's probably been here for a long time.
Frank took out a coin from his pocket and started scratching as he made his way across the parking lot, nothing of course. He tossed the ticket into the trashcan by the entrance as he walked inside, there was a chill that seemed to follow him as he entered the restaurant. Smoke filled the air, it was the first thing he noticed. He smoked also, but even to him it seemed excessive. A few grizzled truckers at the counter gave him looks as he walked up to it. The heat is on, but it doesn't seem to be working. He caught the eye of the first waitress he could find, a stout woman with a hardened look to her. 'Excuse me, I have an interview with Bob.' She gave him a glazed look at first before responding, 'He's in the office, I'll get him.' Do I really want to work here? Frank thought as he looked around. There was the coffepot, behind which was a massive neon clock. Everything metallic and shiny. He had been working at his friends software company before, before his friend had made a series of bad business decisions which had resulted in the company going bankrupt. He hadn't anticipated being out among the job seeking public again, and on the phone Bob had mentioned it was slightly above average compensation.
I'm overdressed for this, Frank thought as he waited. He had a blue dress shirt and tie, it just seemed natural to him. His mother had once told him he was always that way. She even joked that he had emerged from the womb in a dress shirt and tie. Frank saw him emerge before he spoke, a tall man with a dress shirt and tie. 'Frank?' He asked as he came out from the back. 'Yeah.' Bob replied. 'Nice to meet you.' He shook his hand. He had a good handshake, firm, but not too long. 'Let's have a seat over here.' He gestured toward a booth in the back. Frank followed him, feeling at ease.
Bob eased into the booth and Frank followed. 'Frank, I've been reviewing you're resume and it's quite impressive. I just wanted to remind you that this is an entry level position. Now if you do good, there a possibility that you could move up, but right now we're just looking for a dishwasher.' 'That's fine.' Frank replied. It all seemed strange, as the ad he had responded to had been for a dishwasher. 'I've worked in kitchen's before, I'm really just looking for anything.' Fuck, Frank thought as the words tumbled out. That didn't sound right. You couldn't say things like that, it sounded desperate. 'Ok.' Bob replied. 'Can you start tomorrow?' 'Alright.' Frank replied, feeling elated. It's OK, I could always find something else...
Something bad is going to happen, Sam thought as he drove to work. There was no way around it, so many avenues, angles, and ways it could come. He stared at the bright red 'R' on his van as just one example, basically inviting the cops to pull him over. That, of course, was the most obvious ways but there were many other ways it could come. He was in a dead relationship, he could tell that for sure. If it wasn't exactly dead it was on it's way out. There was nothing there, no glue keeping it together nothing feeding it. He knew that the moment that woman at the bar had offered to take him home. He had wanted to find something, some reason to say no, but it hadn't come. Nothing, and afterward there had been no guilt. Nothing, he had waited for it to come, but it never showed up. He had left afterward early in the morning before she had woken up, but he thought her name was 'Karen', or something like that. She was in her mid-40's and lived with her 19 year old daughter which made it even stranger, so he had left. In some ways he still wasn't sure why he had done it, it was impulsive, an instinct which he rarely indulged.
Most people meet me and think I'm chill and laid back, but it's all a facade. I am in fact a walking pile of neurotic anxiety waiting to come apart at a moment notice. It could all come apart, he thought, as he got closer to his job. Only a couple of lights to go, before he would be on. Order's coming in the printer going off, the orders piling up. Of course my job is also another area where it could all go wrong, where things could go awry. It was always hard to tell how thing were going over there, and with the new management it was even worse. Sam went through the second light and headed toward the diner. He checked the clock on his phone, 12 minutes, thank god, he thought. A least a little to get it together, he thought as he pulled into the lot. How many people has this place gone through? Sam thought as he got out of the van. How many managers, cooks, and waitstaff has it burned through?
He saw Gary as he walked toward the shed. 'How's it going?' He asked as he approached. Gary was there smoking a cigarette, but something was gone. He looked old, haggard, beaten. 'It's going.' Gary replied. It was strange seeing him this way, looking defeated. It was strange seeing him this way and something about it made him feel bad. 'A lot of prep to do?' He asked attempting to make conversation. 'Probably, you'll see.' Gary said finally and through his cigarette on the ground. As he walked off Sam noticed some writing on the front of the shed, 'FBR' Started 2/6/1982. In the same handwriting someone had written that date of the fire, in the same handwriting. 30 Years. Almost to the day. God, I got to get out of here, he thought.
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold
Jim walked out the back door and lit a cigarette. It had been his first in over an hour, and he relished the smoke in his lungs. Even the cold winter breeze hadn't bothered him as it was sweltering in the kitchen. He puffed away as he walked toward the shed, feeling the strong wind against his skin. The diner had been packed all morning, and he had been cooking with Jeff for six hours non-stop. I used to have a manager who could give me a break once and a while, he thought to himself as he headed into the shelter of the shed. Alex had been in the office at the computer when he had passed through to go out, and although he wasn't certain he could feel the eyes on him as we went. Let him go out there, Jim had thought. Alex had been 'training' as their new manager for two months now and no one had seen him on the line. He had heard from Jeff that he had gone on the line to train once during a busy lunch rush, had been on for less then a minute and then vanished. From what Jim and most of the morning crew could see, most of what Alex did was complain. Not openly to any of them personally, but in his notes that he posted every few weeks. The last one spoke of a 'culture' of laziness and a thinly veiled threat of termination if anyone didn't tow the line.
'Is he still here?' Margie asked as Jim entered the shed. 'Yeah, he's here. In the office, probably arguing with Gary.' They had been arguing all morning, all through the morning rush, they could hear them in the office arguing. 'Yeah, they've been at it from the start.' Margie remarked. 'You watch out,' Jim replied. 'He'll get you too. He's not Frank.' From Alex's actions the past few weeks it seemed as if his entire mission as the new manager was to remind everyone that he was not, in fact, Frank. The notes had continued, this time in a more hostile vein. They spoke of a 'culture,' of laziness, and contained thinly veiled threats of termination if they didn't 'Shape up.' Jim picked up the paper and took a look at the want ads. He always had took a look at the help wanted ads, just to see what was out there, to keep his options open. The first ad that caught his eye as he opened was an ad for the diner, cooks, dishwashers and waitstaff. 'I may spend a lot of time out here but I always get my shit done.' Margie remarked. It had been her argument from the start.
Still it was different with Frank. He came out to the shed for smoke breaks as much as them. He also like scratch tickets and coffee, it was obvious on some level that he was one of them. Alex was different, he didn't smoke, didn't make too many attempts to fraternize with them, he didn't even drink coffee. 'We only have 2 cases of fries left in the freezer.' Jim said finishing his cigarette. 'When that's gone were out, I told Alex but he didn't say anything.' Margie had just finished her cigarette. 'Those two messing everything up out there?' Jim nodded. Jackie and Judy, the two waitresses' were always messing up orders, leaving food in the window for too long, making mistakes, which caused them to have to have the cook remake orders. 'We've already had to comp about half the ticket because they took too long bringing them out.' Jim said. He got up, 'I'm out at four so I don't care. But their probably going to run out of fries later.' Jim walked outside the wind had picked up again. He noticed Alex's car was gone. Figures, he thought, as he walked through the back door.
Lindsay picked up the buspan full of dishes and placed it on Sonny's station. 'I was going to get that!!' he yelled to her as she walked away but she ignored him. All of the buspan's had been full since the start of the shift at 4 and Sonny had acted like he hadn't noticed them. Now all of the buspan's out on the floor were full and there was a new generation of dishes that had accumulated at the tables since the start of her shift. Sonny, meanwhile had done everything but actually do the dishes. He had taken out all the trash, swept and mopped the prep area, even cleaned all the small area near the dish machine but 3 hours into his shift had yet to do a single dish. This is ridiculous Lindsay thought as she brought over the next pan of dishes. 'If you want I could go slower.' Sonny said as she dropped off the pan at the dish station. 'There's no way to go slower than you're going.' She said harshly. She didn't mean to sound to cruel but this had been going on for weeks. Sonny had been one of the first Alex hires, shortly after they had reopened.
At first Sonny had seemed great, a good addition to the lineup. But it wasn't long before his true nature started to come through. First he would complain when he first showed up about the dishes at his station, and continue to do so throughout the shift. Then when one of the waitstaff or cooks complained about the lack of dishes he would only respond, 'I'll get to it when I can!' You don't get it to it 'When you can' Lindsay had thought you get to it right away, it's you're fucking job, you're the fucking dishwasher. Lindsay walked up to the computer and started to put in an order. Sonny had finally started to do his job from what she could see. I thought things were supposed to change around here, Lindsay thought as she put in the order. It wasn't even that busy, relatively speaking, for a Saturday but Sonny kept doing things the way he always did. 'We need plates!' She heard one of the Cooks yell from behind the window, and wondered which one it was. She had heard the same plea several times already during her shift but this time it was the loudest.
Upon hearing it she had determined it had to be Mike, another one of Alex's hires. He was one of the better ones, a stocky guy with dreadlocks, he seemed to be better then most though he plated things strangely sometimes. She look through the window and it looked like Sonny had finally started doing something. Thank god, she thought as he started to put in an order. It wasn't even busy yet but at this rate he would be backed up if he didn't put something through soon. She had mentioned all of this to Alex but he hadn't seemed to take much of an interest in it. He had nodded and said he had said something to Sonny about it but nothing had changed. Fucking typical, Lindsay thought, as usual. They were also out of french fries, so she had been subbing onion rings, but still it was embarrassing and she noticed since Alex took over it happened with greater frequency than it ever had before. It wasn't trivial things either, it was things they ran through at lot of-white bread, turkey, french fries, eggs. He always had some kind of excuse too, they were busy over the weekend, he had pressed the wrong button when he was ordering, things like that. It was never his fault, of course.
Lindsay knew Gary was a blowhard and a teller of tall tales, but he at least did some work. Prepping mainly. Alex seemed to be content to sit behind the computer and do-ordering? That was what she assumed recent events seemed to contradict that theory. Lindsay finished putting in the order as Mike up one up in the window. I feel like I've been waiting for this for at least 20 minutes, and all it was was a burger an omelette and some pancakes. Lindsay picked up the order from the window and took it out to it's table, as she did she took a brief glance at the clock. It was only 7 and thing's were already going wrong. The other waitress, Amber was 15 and had to leave at ten so she already knew she was in it for the long haul. She delivered the plates to the table, a group of truckers who sounded like they were from somewhere in the south, 'Enjoy.' She said. At least one of the cooks will be leaving at 10, she thought, I hope it's Mike.
'Hey man, do you think I can take off?' Mike asked Kevin as he walked in from the office. There were two small slips on the board and Kevin had started both. 'Yeah, sure.' Kevin replied, somewhat reluctantly. He had stayed late this past two shifts he'd worked and was hoping to get out early. He wanted to say something but he knew he couldn't, Mike had gotten there first. Plus Mike was Alex's guy, from what he was hearing. He told him everything, talked about people, had his ear. He could very well say something about him. Still he was ok enough to work with, he had taken him outside twice to smoke a bowl, for which Kevin had been grateful, still there was something strange about him. He seemed like someone who wouldn't hesitate to turn you in if he had the chance. Kevin flipped two pancakes and pulled up a couple orders of fries from the fryer. He had been hoping to make a trip to the store at some point during his shift, but now that was ruled out. He knew Lindsay could cook if she had to but he didn't want to ask her. He could tell she was irritated by Sonny and having to stay and he didn't want to add to that. I can still make it to the Afterworks, he thought as he started plating the order. He knew one of the bartenders there who would sometimes hook him up if it was late, and it's sure going to be late this time. As he put the order in the window he noticed he only had two large plates left, where the fuck is Sonny? He thought.
Sam looked into his beer as he sat at the sparse counter at the Afterworks. It was a Thrusday night and the few there were the regulars and the dedicated alcoholics. He could always tell them when he saw them, he could always recognize his own kind. The way they drank, they way they hung over it as if it were the one thing giving them purpose, reason to live. Their only friend. I'm feeling good, he thought as he took a long draw of his beer. For the first damn time in this whole godforsaken day I actually feel good. Happy. It was hard to explain to someone who did not share his affliction. True he knew he would not feel this way in the morning, but the morning didn't matter now. Nothing mattered, not his job, his relationship, his depression, nothing. He was just here, in the moment, and it felt great.
'He's just helping me get through some things.' Andrea had explain when he had asked her what she was doing with Kevin. When pressed further about what those 'things' were she had refused to elaborate. 'You know he's kind of like my shrink ok?' She had said finally. Sam had wanted to protest, to fully express his opinion about Kevin but before he began he stopped himself. First of all this tact might only draw her more to Kevin and second it was quite likely that she was already aware of his opinion on the subject. A friend had once told him that he had a hard time hiding it when he didn't like someone. He gestured toward the bartender, 'Could I get a shot of Jim Beam?' He asked. He fished into his wallet and took out a 20, he knew it was money he didn't really have, but he couldn't help it. She poured the shot and he looked at her as she did, she was a cute blond, who had the look of someone who had been through a lot.
After he had fought with Andrea they had eventually made up. Even had some good make up sex, but something was still off. He could tell at first when she had left at 3AM instead of staying at his house. That wasn't entirely strange, as she did that often. She said she didn't like to sleep in other peoples beds. It was more apparent when he had called her earlier to tell her he wouldn't be coming over tonight. She had said 'Ok.' In a way that indicated relief, more then anything else. He knew what it was like to be in failing relationship, he had been in one before. You're still a free agent, a voice said to him in the back of his skull. There are plenty of fish in the sea. It chimed in. I know all of this, he thought to himself, yet still, it was hard. It had been over 3 years without anything when he had hooked up with Andrea. I don't want to go back to that, he thought. I just escaped single-land, I have no desire to return.
Sam swallowed the shot in one gulp, chasing it with his beer. 'Going all the way tonight tiger?' A woman a couple of seats next to him asked. She was older, maybe in her forties, and voluptuous just his type. 'Yeah, thinking about work.' 'Where do you work?' She asked him. As they talked he could tell she was interested in him, this was more then the usual chit-chat. He had always thought it was interesting that it was always impossible for a man to tell weather a woman was really interested, or just being 'nice,' but if she really wanted a man to know, he could always tell. 'Do you want to come back to my place?' She asked finally. 'Try some pot?' I should say no, at this point Sam thought. I should tell her I'm taken but thank for the offer, but I can't at this time. Instead all he could muster was, 'Sure.'
'Is he still here?' Margie asked as Jim entered the shed. 'Yeah, he's here. In the office, probably arguing with Gary.' They had been arguing all morning, all through the morning rush, they could hear them in the office arguing. 'Yeah, they've been at it from the start.' Margie remarked. 'You watch out,' Jim replied. 'He'll get you too. He's not Frank.' From Alex's actions the past few weeks it seemed as if his entire mission as the new manager was to remind everyone that he was not, in fact, Frank. The notes had continued, this time in a more hostile vein. They spoke of a 'culture,' of laziness, and contained thinly veiled threats of termination if they didn't 'Shape up.' Jim picked up the paper and took a look at the want ads. He always had took a look at the help wanted ads, just to see what was out there, to keep his options open. The first ad that caught his eye as he opened was an ad for the diner, cooks, dishwashers and waitstaff. 'I may spend a lot of time out here but I always get my shit done.' Margie remarked. It had been her argument from the start.
Still it was different with Frank. He came out to the shed for smoke breaks as much as them. He also like scratch tickets and coffee, it was obvious on some level that he was one of them. Alex was different, he didn't smoke, didn't make too many attempts to fraternize with them, he didn't even drink coffee. 'We only have 2 cases of fries left in the freezer.' Jim said finishing his cigarette. 'When that's gone were out, I told Alex but he didn't say anything.' Margie had just finished her cigarette. 'Those two messing everything up out there?' Jim nodded. Jackie and Judy, the two waitresses' were always messing up orders, leaving food in the window for too long, making mistakes, which caused them to have to have the cook remake orders. 'We've already had to comp about half the ticket because they took too long bringing them out.' Jim said. He got up, 'I'm out at four so I don't care. But their probably going to run out of fries later.' Jim walked outside the wind had picked up again. He noticed Alex's car was gone. Figures, he thought, as he walked through the back door.
Lindsay picked up the buspan full of dishes and placed it on Sonny's station. 'I was going to get that!!' he yelled to her as she walked away but she ignored him. All of the buspan's had been full since the start of the shift at 4 and Sonny had acted like he hadn't noticed them. Now all of the buspan's out on the floor were full and there was a new generation of dishes that had accumulated at the tables since the start of her shift. Sonny, meanwhile had done everything but actually do the dishes. He had taken out all the trash, swept and mopped the prep area, even cleaned all the small area near the dish machine but 3 hours into his shift had yet to do a single dish. This is ridiculous Lindsay thought as she brought over the next pan of dishes. 'If you want I could go slower.' Sonny said as she dropped off the pan at the dish station. 'There's no way to go slower than you're going.' She said harshly. She didn't mean to sound to cruel but this had been going on for weeks. Sonny had been one of the first Alex hires, shortly after they had reopened.
At first Sonny had seemed great, a good addition to the lineup. But it wasn't long before his true nature started to come through. First he would complain when he first showed up about the dishes at his station, and continue to do so throughout the shift. Then when one of the waitstaff or cooks complained about the lack of dishes he would only respond, 'I'll get to it when I can!' You don't get it to it 'When you can' Lindsay had thought you get to it right away, it's you're fucking job, you're the fucking dishwasher. Lindsay walked up to the computer and started to put in an order. Sonny had finally started to do his job from what she could see. I thought things were supposed to change around here, Lindsay thought as she put in the order. It wasn't even that busy, relatively speaking, for a Saturday but Sonny kept doing things the way he always did. 'We need plates!' She heard one of the Cooks yell from behind the window, and wondered which one it was. She had heard the same plea several times already during her shift but this time it was the loudest.
Upon hearing it she had determined it had to be Mike, another one of Alex's hires. He was one of the better ones, a stocky guy with dreadlocks, he seemed to be better then most though he plated things strangely sometimes. She look through the window and it looked like Sonny had finally started doing something. Thank god, she thought as he started to put in an order. It wasn't even busy yet but at this rate he would be backed up if he didn't put something through soon. She had mentioned all of this to Alex but he hadn't seemed to take much of an interest in it. He had nodded and said he had said something to Sonny about it but nothing had changed. Fucking typical, Lindsay thought, as usual. They were also out of french fries, so she had been subbing onion rings, but still it was embarrassing and she noticed since Alex took over it happened with greater frequency than it ever had before. It wasn't trivial things either, it was things they ran through at lot of-white bread, turkey, french fries, eggs. He always had some kind of excuse too, they were busy over the weekend, he had pressed the wrong button when he was ordering, things like that. It was never his fault, of course.
Lindsay knew Gary was a blowhard and a teller of tall tales, but he at least did some work. Prepping mainly. Alex seemed to be content to sit behind the computer and do-ordering? That was what she assumed recent events seemed to contradict that theory. Lindsay finished putting in the order as Mike up one up in the window. I feel like I've been waiting for this for at least 20 minutes, and all it was was a burger an omelette and some pancakes. Lindsay picked up the order from the window and took it out to it's table, as she did she took a brief glance at the clock. It was only 7 and thing's were already going wrong. The other waitress, Amber was 15 and had to leave at ten so she already knew she was in it for the long haul. She delivered the plates to the table, a group of truckers who sounded like they were from somewhere in the south, 'Enjoy.' She said. At least one of the cooks will be leaving at 10, she thought, I hope it's Mike.
'Hey man, do you think I can take off?' Mike asked Kevin as he walked in from the office. There were two small slips on the board and Kevin had started both. 'Yeah, sure.' Kevin replied, somewhat reluctantly. He had stayed late this past two shifts he'd worked and was hoping to get out early. He wanted to say something but he knew he couldn't, Mike had gotten there first. Plus Mike was Alex's guy, from what he was hearing. He told him everything, talked about people, had his ear. He could very well say something about him. Still he was ok enough to work with, he had taken him outside twice to smoke a bowl, for which Kevin had been grateful, still there was something strange about him. He seemed like someone who wouldn't hesitate to turn you in if he had the chance. Kevin flipped two pancakes and pulled up a couple orders of fries from the fryer. He had been hoping to make a trip to the store at some point during his shift, but now that was ruled out. He knew Lindsay could cook if she had to but he didn't want to ask her. He could tell she was irritated by Sonny and having to stay and he didn't want to add to that. I can still make it to the Afterworks, he thought as he started plating the order. He knew one of the bartenders there who would sometimes hook him up if it was late, and it's sure going to be late this time. As he put the order in the window he noticed he only had two large plates left, where the fuck is Sonny? He thought.
Sam looked into his beer as he sat at the sparse counter at the Afterworks. It was a Thrusday night and the few there were the regulars and the dedicated alcoholics. He could always tell them when he saw them, he could always recognize his own kind. The way they drank, they way they hung over it as if it were the one thing giving them purpose, reason to live. Their only friend. I'm feeling good, he thought as he took a long draw of his beer. For the first damn time in this whole godforsaken day I actually feel good. Happy. It was hard to explain to someone who did not share his affliction. True he knew he would not feel this way in the morning, but the morning didn't matter now. Nothing mattered, not his job, his relationship, his depression, nothing. He was just here, in the moment, and it felt great.
'He's just helping me get through some things.' Andrea had explain when he had asked her what she was doing with Kevin. When pressed further about what those 'things' were she had refused to elaborate. 'You know he's kind of like my shrink ok?' She had said finally. Sam had wanted to protest, to fully express his opinion about Kevin but before he began he stopped himself. First of all this tact might only draw her more to Kevin and second it was quite likely that she was already aware of his opinion on the subject. A friend had once told him that he had a hard time hiding it when he didn't like someone. He gestured toward the bartender, 'Could I get a shot of Jim Beam?' He asked. He fished into his wallet and took out a 20, he knew it was money he didn't really have, but he couldn't help it. She poured the shot and he looked at her as she did, she was a cute blond, who had the look of someone who had been through a lot.
After he had fought with Andrea they had eventually made up. Even had some good make up sex, but something was still off. He could tell at first when she had left at 3AM instead of staying at his house. That wasn't entirely strange, as she did that often. She said she didn't like to sleep in other peoples beds. It was more apparent when he had called her earlier to tell her he wouldn't be coming over tonight. She had said 'Ok.' In a way that indicated relief, more then anything else. He knew what it was like to be in failing relationship, he had been in one before. You're still a free agent, a voice said to him in the back of his skull. There are plenty of fish in the sea. It chimed in. I know all of this, he thought to himself, yet still, it was hard. It had been over 3 years without anything when he had hooked up with Andrea. I don't want to go back to that, he thought. I just escaped single-land, I have no desire to return.
Sam swallowed the shot in one gulp, chasing it with his beer. 'Going all the way tonight tiger?' A woman a couple of seats next to him asked. She was older, maybe in her forties, and voluptuous just his type. 'Yeah, thinking about work.' 'Where do you work?' She asked him. As they talked he could tell she was interested in him, this was more then the usual chit-chat. He had always thought it was interesting that it was always impossible for a man to tell weather a woman was really interested, or just being 'nice,' but if she really wanted a man to know, he could always tell. 'Do you want to come back to my place?' She asked finally. 'Try some pot?' I should say no, at this point Sam thought. I should tell her I'm taken but thank for the offer, but I can't at this time. Instead all he could muster was, 'Sure.'
Sunday, August 3, 2014
The phantom
A note. It was the only physical evidence of his existence. It was posted prominently on the wall near the schedule. Zach and Kevin were reading it, pondering what sort of person this Alex Milton was. A few people on first shift had seen him, said he mainly just sat in the office at the computer mainly. He was tall, they said, big. 'He won't last,' Margie had told them through a fog of cigarette smoke when they talked to her before the shift. 'He's too big.' She seemed confident in this regard but Zach wasn't sure. He had been surprised that he wasn't there when he had come in at 3:30, as he would have thought that someone just starting in a manager position would not want to leave early on their first few days, but who knows. Probably for the best, Zach mused. The note read, 'Hello my name is Alex Milton, your new manager. For the new few week's I'm going to be shadowing Gary to see how he does things. I am looking for ways to streamline the efficiency of this place, to increase profitability. I'm not looking for reinvent the wheel or anything just looking for ways to help the diner be the best it can be. If you have any question's call me.' Sincerely, Alex Milton.'
'Then where the fuck is he?' Zach asked openly to Kevin. 'I was coming in to get my check last week and I met him, he seems ok.' Kevin offered. He had a somewhat glazed look in his eyes, and had been acting strange the whole shift. First he had come in 20 minutes late, clocked in, and then gone outside for another 15 while Zach had tickets piling up. Finally Zach had gone outside to the shed and told him he had to come in but even then he wasn't much use. He would switch from the grill to the fryer side, dropped things, in some way's Zach was thinking that maybe it would be easier to just cook the whole shift himself. He had done it before, first on second shift when the person he was supposed to be working with on a saturday night dropped him off and told him it was his last day. It was trial by fire and he had prevailed, but it still irked him that his co-worker couldn't bother to show up in a functional condition.
'Can I go outside for a smoke?' Kevin asked him. 'Yeah, sure.' It was 9:30 and Zach could already tell that Kevin was planning his escape. He had been going outside for breaks all shift, and Zach couldn't tell if it was drugs or booze or some kind of unholy combination, but something was going on out there. He had known Kevin for long enough to know when he was buzzed in someway, and something was definitely going on. Zach walked back over to the line picked up a couple slips from the printer. He threw a couple of burgers patties on the grill. Midnight, again, he thought. A naive part of him had hoped that when Kevin was hired he could cover some of the shifts until midnight, as he said he could, but somehow that was too much. Zach glanced through the window, the restaurant was mostly empty, except for a blond girl sitting at the front counter. Is that? Zach thought. Is it Andrea, Sam's girlfriend?. Sam had left at around 8 saying he was going out with her tonight, and now she was here. Zach waved and she waved back.
Kevin came in from the other side of the line, 'Oh sorry, man.' He said as he came in. 'Don't worry about it.' Zach replied. He had already set up the burgers and was about the plate the order. He pulled up a basket of fries and poured them into a hat. 'Hey do you want one of these?' Kevin asked pulling out a nip of rum. 'Sure.' Zach replied. Should get something after putting up with his bullshit, Zach thought. Kevin put the the nip on the counter near the microwave. Zach put the order in the window. He watched Kevin walk out and say something to Andrea, she laughed. Something going on there, Zach thought. He looked out at the clock above the cash register, 5 minutes to ten. Kevin came back into the kitchen, 'Hey man, do you mind if I take off?' 'Yeah, sure.' Zach replied, another long night. Zach walked over and put the nip in his pocket, nips are like currency with him. He thought. Him and his friend's had often thought about saying something about his use, but they also knew what his retort would be. Well all of you drink, smoke weed. Which was true, but with Kevin it was different, Zach would smoke a couple bowls and come back in work a busy line for 8 hours, no problem. Kevin, not so much.
Zach looked, out the window again. The restaurant was empty, Kevin had left. With Andrea. I thought things were supposed to change around here, he thought to himself. He hadn't met this Alex Milton yet but he felt like the note thing was strange. Unprofessional. Why wouldn't he take the time to meet all of us? It reminded him of that passive agressive roomate who always wrote notes about dishes or cleaning. Something is going on with this guy, to be sure.
Sam stared at his phone, willing it to ring. For that sweet sound, to fill his ears. It was almost midnight and she said she was getting off at 8, he had already called her twice, and sent her a text, and he felt that beyond that would be excessive. They had only been dating 3 months now, and that would come off as a little psycho. He took a swig of his beer. He hadn't been drinking for the past week or so but he felt the urge now. It had started at around, 9:30 when it was becoming painfully obvious that she wasn't going to call. It had finally become impossible to ignore at 10:30 when he remembered that A., She wasn't going to call, and B. the store was going to close in a half hour. It was cold and the town was quiet when he pulled into the liquor store. The clerk had recognized him and he contemplated asking him if he knew where she was, but decided against it. It was now less then an hour and he had already gone through two tall boys and was well into the third. Why can't thing's just work out? He thought to himself. Why does everything have to be so involved and complicated?
He picked up the cold nip near the computer and drank it down? I knew it was too good to be true, this girl. Something would go wrong and he would fuck it up in some way, like everything else. He felt like a third world country sometimes, managed by a corrupt ineffectual leader, and fraught with constant civil war. Why can't I just do things like a normal person? The phone rang, it was her. 'Hey,' he answered. 'Hi.' He heard her voice, it was good to hear her voice again. 'Do you still want me to come over?' 'Yeah.' Sam replied. 'Where were you?' 'I was with Kevin. I can explain.' 'Ok.' Sam said and hung up. I don't like this, he thought.
'Then where the fuck is he?' Zach asked openly to Kevin. 'I was coming in to get my check last week and I met him, he seems ok.' Kevin offered. He had a somewhat glazed look in his eyes, and had been acting strange the whole shift. First he had come in 20 minutes late, clocked in, and then gone outside for another 15 while Zach had tickets piling up. Finally Zach had gone outside to the shed and told him he had to come in but even then he wasn't much use. He would switch from the grill to the fryer side, dropped things, in some way's Zach was thinking that maybe it would be easier to just cook the whole shift himself. He had done it before, first on second shift when the person he was supposed to be working with on a saturday night dropped him off and told him it was his last day. It was trial by fire and he had prevailed, but it still irked him that his co-worker couldn't bother to show up in a functional condition.
'Can I go outside for a smoke?' Kevin asked him. 'Yeah, sure.' It was 9:30 and Zach could already tell that Kevin was planning his escape. He had been going outside for breaks all shift, and Zach couldn't tell if it was drugs or booze or some kind of unholy combination, but something was going on out there. He had known Kevin for long enough to know when he was buzzed in someway, and something was definitely going on. Zach walked back over to the line picked up a couple slips from the printer. He threw a couple of burgers patties on the grill. Midnight, again, he thought. A naive part of him had hoped that when Kevin was hired he could cover some of the shifts until midnight, as he said he could, but somehow that was too much. Zach glanced through the window, the restaurant was mostly empty, except for a blond girl sitting at the front counter. Is that? Zach thought. Is it Andrea, Sam's girlfriend?. Sam had left at around 8 saying he was going out with her tonight, and now she was here. Zach waved and she waved back.
Kevin came in from the other side of the line, 'Oh sorry, man.' He said as he came in. 'Don't worry about it.' Zach replied. He had already set up the burgers and was about the plate the order. He pulled up a basket of fries and poured them into a hat. 'Hey do you want one of these?' Kevin asked pulling out a nip of rum. 'Sure.' Zach replied. Should get something after putting up with his bullshit, Zach thought. Kevin put the the nip on the counter near the microwave. Zach put the order in the window. He watched Kevin walk out and say something to Andrea, she laughed. Something going on there, Zach thought. He looked out at the clock above the cash register, 5 minutes to ten. Kevin came back into the kitchen, 'Hey man, do you mind if I take off?' 'Yeah, sure.' Zach replied, another long night. Zach walked over and put the nip in his pocket, nips are like currency with him. He thought. Him and his friend's had often thought about saying something about his use, but they also knew what his retort would be. Well all of you drink, smoke weed. Which was true, but with Kevin it was different, Zach would smoke a couple bowls and come back in work a busy line for 8 hours, no problem. Kevin, not so much.
Zach looked, out the window again. The restaurant was empty, Kevin had left. With Andrea. I thought things were supposed to change around here, he thought to himself. He hadn't met this Alex Milton yet but he felt like the note thing was strange. Unprofessional. Why wouldn't he take the time to meet all of us? It reminded him of that passive agressive roomate who always wrote notes about dishes or cleaning. Something is going on with this guy, to be sure.
Sam stared at his phone, willing it to ring. For that sweet sound, to fill his ears. It was almost midnight and she said she was getting off at 8, he had already called her twice, and sent her a text, and he felt that beyond that would be excessive. They had only been dating 3 months now, and that would come off as a little psycho. He took a swig of his beer. He hadn't been drinking for the past week or so but he felt the urge now. It had started at around, 9:30 when it was becoming painfully obvious that she wasn't going to call. It had finally become impossible to ignore at 10:30 when he remembered that A., She wasn't going to call, and B. the store was going to close in a half hour. It was cold and the town was quiet when he pulled into the liquor store. The clerk had recognized him and he contemplated asking him if he knew where she was, but decided against it. It was now less then an hour and he had already gone through two tall boys and was well into the third. Why can't thing's just work out? He thought to himself. Why does everything have to be so involved and complicated?
He picked up the cold nip near the computer and drank it down? I knew it was too good to be true, this girl. Something would go wrong and he would fuck it up in some way, like everything else. He felt like a third world country sometimes, managed by a corrupt ineffectual leader, and fraught with constant civil war. Why can't I just do things like a normal person? The phone rang, it was her. 'Hey,' he answered. 'Hi.' He heard her voice, it was good to hear her voice again. 'Do you still want me to come over?' 'Yeah.' Sam replied. 'Where were you?' 'I was with Kevin. I can explain.' 'Ok.' Sam said and hung up. I don't like this, he thought.
Monday, July 28, 2014
There's the way it ought to be. And there's the way it is.
Sam finished the last paragraph of his book as he looked outside the shed to see if anyone had come. Usually if there were several orders a server or a cook, would come outside to get them. He had told Kevin he was going outside, but it was hard to tell if it had registered. The Diner had been open for two weeks and Kevin had just started and Sam still wasn't sure what to make of him. Sometimes he would be on time and seemingly with it, easy to get along with. Other times he would show up late and give strange long convoluted excuses. He had heard he was Zach's friend which had probably gotten him in.
He had checked the time on his phone when he went out and he checked it again. Five minutes, good he thought to himself. The shed was more clustered than usual with a several stacks of the local paper, some from several weeks ago. 'Hey, Sam?!' He heard a voice call. 'Can you come help me with these orders?' he got up closing the book and putting it on top of a box of paper towels. Breaks had been a strange issue the whole night. Whenever he went outside, told Kevin he was going, Kevin would go outside also. This in turn led to one of them having to return, usually him, to cook what was up there. Still whenever he went out for any amount of time Kevin would come out and ask him to help. Sam walked back up through the back door putting back on his apron as he walked out unto the line. Two slips. A burger and a fry and two large fries, the fries had already been dropped. What the fuck? Sam thought.
'Do you mind if I run to the store real quick?' Kevin asked. 'Sure.' Sam said but Kevin could sense the hostility there. He had checked the time it was 10:55 but the store in town was only about a minute away and he knew he could make it if he left now. Kevin took off his apron and walked through the office to the back door. As he walked over to his car he thought about the whole night. It had been one of hostility and mistrust, Kevin had thought. First of all when they had been introduced, Sam had been seemed hostile towards his very presence there, he just didn't seem to like him for some reason. When it had gotten busy he had gone outside not telling him he was leaving, and had been out there for a while.
Kevin drove past the graveyard towards town, finally pass the Chinese restaurant and then the liquor store. His girlfriend works here, he remembered vaguely. They had met before in the meeting before the Diner was going to open but Sam acted like he hadn't remembered that when they met at work. Could just be an anti-social person, Kevin thought. 10:57, the time read on his dashboard, perfect, Kevin thought. He strode into the store, going straight to what he was looking for 3 22 once twisted teas, he walked over to the singles cooler and grabbed them. As he walked to the cooler, he recognized her, it was Andrea. She was on the short side, blond, with a few tatoo's, Kevin walked up to the counter and put his merchandise down. 'Hey, II know you.' He said. 'Oh yeah,' Andrea replied. 'You're Kevin who works with Sam.'
'Yeah,' Kevin replied. Feeling the urge to elaborate, 'I don't think he really likes me.' She laughed a soft lilting sound which sounded good to his ears, 'I don't think he really likes anyone.' She replied. She's feisty this one, he thought. She rang up his order and bagged it. 'I'll see you around.' He said mainly just as a simple pleasantry. 'Yes, you will.' She replied, in a tone which suggested something more. He walked outside feeling the cold air on his face, it was late December and although no snow had fallen the cold had set in. He checked his phone. It was only 10:59, if he was quick he could still grab a quick beer at Afterwork's across the street and make it back without taking too long. Kevin got into his car and parked across the street. Just one beer, he thought, I go in, have a quick one, no big deal.
Sam looked over at the clock above the cash register, 11:45, at first he had thought it was some kind of typo there's no way this guy has actually been gone for that long of an amount of time, he had thought to himself, but not impossibly, it was true. A little past 11:00 the orders had started coming in, small things at first. A large fry here, and burger and fry there, an omelette, then a little while later it had gotten worse. Table's of 5 or six had started to arrive, large groups. Almost an entire hour, this fucking guy. Although to be honest it was really hard to tell if he would even come back at all. Sam flipped a couple burgers and pulled up a basket of fries, as he poured them into a hat he saw a familiar figure, 'Hey sorry I'm late.' Sam said nothing, and they worked in silence for a long time, finally the ticket's were clear.
Sam walked over to the time clock and punched out. As he walked outside he wondered, not too much has changed has it, he thought as he walked over to his van. Still the same idiots being hired, the same attitude being accepted. Sometimes he thought he brought it on himself, that he let these things happen because he refused to better himself, to remain where he was in his station.
He dialed her number, the only person lately would bring him out of states like this. 'Hey,' She responded sounding tired, weak. 'You up?, I want to stop by.' 'Sure, of course.' She said, thank god.
He had checked the time on his phone when he went out and he checked it again. Five minutes, good he thought to himself. The shed was more clustered than usual with a several stacks of the local paper, some from several weeks ago. 'Hey, Sam?!' He heard a voice call. 'Can you come help me with these orders?' he got up closing the book and putting it on top of a box of paper towels. Breaks had been a strange issue the whole night. Whenever he went outside, told Kevin he was going, Kevin would go outside also. This in turn led to one of them having to return, usually him, to cook what was up there. Still whenever he went out for any amount of time Kevin would come out and ask him to help. Sam walked back up through the back door putting back on his apron as he walked out unto the line. Two slips. A burger and a fry and two large fries, the fries had already been dropped. What the fuck? Sam thought.
'Do you mind if I run to the store real quick?' Kevin asked. 'Sure.' Sam said but Kevin could sense the hostility there. He had checked the time it was 10:55 but the store in town was only about a minute away and he knew he could make it if he left now. Kevin took off his apron and walked through the office to the back door. As he walked over to his car he thought about the whole night. It had been one of hostility and mistrust, Kevin had thought. First of all when they had been introduced, Sam had been seemed hostile towards his very presence there, he just didn't seem to like him for some reason. When it had gotten busy he had gone outside not telling him he was leaving, and had been out there for a while.
Kevin drove past the graveyard towards town, finally pass the Chinese restaurant and then the liquor store. His girlfriend works here, he remembered vaguely. They had met before in the meeting before the Diner was going to open but Sam acted like he hadn't remembered that when they met at work. Could just be an anti-social person, Kevin thought. 10:57, the time read on his dashboard, perfect, Kevin thought. He strode into the store, going straight to what he was looking for 3 22 once twisted teas, he walked over to the singles cooler and grabbed them. As he walked to the cooler, he recognized her, it was Andrea. She was on the short side, blond, with a few tatoo's, Kevin walked up to the counter and put his merchandise down. 'Hey, II know you.' He said. 'Oh yeah,' Andrea replied. 'You're Kevin who works with Sam.'
'Yeah,' Kevin replied. Feeling the urge to elaborate, 'I don't think he really likes me.' She laughed a soft lilting sound which sounded good to his ears, 'I don't think he really likes anyone.' She replied. She's feisty this one, he thought. She rang up his order and bagged it. 'I'll see you around.' He said mainly just as a simple pleasantry. 'Yes, you will.' She replied, in a tone which suggested something more. He walked outside feeling the cold air on his face, it was late December and although no snow had fallen the cold had set in. He checked his phone. It was only 10:59, if he was quick he could still grab a quick beer at Afterwork's across the street and make it back without taking too long. Kevin got into his car and parked across the street. Just one beer, he thought, I go in, have a quick one, no big deal.
Sam looked over at the clock above the cash register, 11:45, at first he had thought it was some kind of typo there's no way this guy has actually been gone for that long of an amount of time, he had thought to himself, but not impossibly, it was true. A little past 11:00 the orders had started coming in, small things at first. A large fry here, and burger and fry there, an omelette, then a little while later it had gotten worse. Table's of 5 or six had started to arrive, large groups. Almost an entire hour, this fucking guy. Although to be honest it was really hard to tell if he would even come back at all. Sam flipped a couple burgers and pulled up a basket of fries, as he poured them into a hat he saw a familiar figure, 'Hey sorry I'm late.' Sam said nothing, and they worked in silence for a long time, finally the ticket's were clear.
Sam walked over to the time clock and punched out. As he walked outside he wondered, not too much has changed has it, he thought as he walked over to his van. Still the same idiots being hired, the same attitude being accepted. Sometimes he thought he brought it on himself, that he let these things happen because he refused to better himself, to remain where he was in his station.
He dialed her number, the only person lately would bring him out of states like this. 'Hey,' She responded sounding tired, weak. 'You up?, I want to stop by.' 'Sure, of course.' She said, thank god.
Friday, July 25, 2014
Take back your cents, your dime and your dollar.
'And where they got Green from? Who the fuck knows. All I know is Green was an Arizona real estate hustler who barely had enough gas money to pick up his own fucking check.'
Headquarters
'I trust that Dave gave you the broad strokes of what were looking for in a candidate?' Steve Rogers asked. Alex Milton nodded, 'Yes, he did.' I thought I had this already, the job. This feels like another interview. He had already had two and on the second one Dave had assured him that the job was his, but this one felt like another grilling session. 'The culture,' Alex said. 'You need someone to change the culture of laziness and apathy that led to the fire.' 'Exactly,' Steve said, although his expression noticeably changed when Alex mentioned the fire. 'You see Frank was a good guy and a loyal employee of the company for many years, but Frank wouldn't stand up for himself. He had a hard time taking charge, telling people what to do. Actual managing. We tried to work with him over the years but obviously made little progress. The smoke breaks, employee's going outside for a half-hour 45 minutes at a time. These are the kinds of behavior we are looking to change over there. We think this Diner has the potential to make real money again and we need someone who feels as strongly about that as we do.' 'Absolutely,' Alex replied. 'What about this Gary person I've been hearing about?
Steve grinned, 'Alex, as far as Gary in concerned, all you need to know about him is that he's out. You're in. He just doesn't know it yet.' Nice, Alex thought. 'What we basically need is for you to come in, and take charge, change the paradigm.' 'So do you know when you're going to reopen?' Alex asked. 'We've almost completed the repairs, but we need to get the ok from the health inspector before we can resume operations. Tentatively we are thinking about a week or so, but we'll probably have you started about a week after opening. Do you have any other questions regarding the position?' Alex pondered for a moment. He wasn't sure if he should bring it up, but part of him felt it would be worth it to at least try. 'About the pay.. 'I know it's not what you're expecting.' Steve interrupted him. 'But I think based on Dave's endorsement and what I've observed interviewing you I think we can give you an extra dollar an hour.' 'Excellent.' Alex said. Steve stood up, 'Welcome aboard.' He said shaking Alex's hand. Going to have free reign, Alex thought to himself.
It was strange seeing all of them in the same room. All three shifts, some old, some young, quite a varying cast, Sam thought as he looked around. They were all gathered in the stools and booths of the restaurant, and it was interesting to see how the groups gathered together. Nick and Shelby from second shift sat with Zach, and also Kevin who had just started. Ed, from the overnight, who always seemed to look like he just woke up, with Jim and Judy. And John, the overnight waiter, who stood alone. Sam had seldom seen him sit down and had heard that he never slept, not in the sense that most people did. In long eight hour period. He would get off work at 8am and go run errands do things around the house, and then only sleep for one or two hour periods. He had gotten used to sleeping that way, Sam heard. It was hard to imagine. Sam had covered a few overnight's in the past, and when he had gotten out at 8 he had always been wiped. He had even gotten a six pack once after a shift, and had only drank two before passing out from sheer exhaustion.
Sam was sitting with Andrea in a booth by themselves. He was still somewhat possessive of her, as if he was afraid someone would come and take her away at any moment. They had smoked a joint on the way over, and we're feeling giggly. 'I wish we could have a burger, or some onion rings.' She said. 'Yeah, definitely.' 'Don't you want to introduce me to some of you're co-workers?' She asked. Sam nodded. He wasn't really sure why he brought he here, mainly so he wouldn't be alone here. But in the back of his mind he knew part of it was showing off. They had been sitting in a booth in the corner at first, still waiting for everyone to arrive. 'You know you don't have to be anti-social all the time.' She commented. 'Yeah I know.' Sam said and got up to rise. She seemed to have a lot of commentary like that. What he should do, pointing out little things and little nitpicks. She usually did it with a playful smile, but sometimes it wore on him.
Sam saw that Zach and Kevin were outside smoking cigarettes at the picnic table. 'Hey, Zach.' He began. 'What's going on?' Zach said. 'This is my girlfriend Andrea.' Zach smiled and shook her hand, 'I work at the liquor store, that's how we met.' She said giggling. 'That, figures.' Zach replied. They all laughed, Sam pretended do, but deep down it hurt. Did she have to mention that. Kevin got up, 'I'm Kevin.' He said to her. 'Nice to meet you.' She said shaking his hand. 'We've been closed for a long time now.' Sam said. 'Yeah,' Zach remarked. 'It sucks were starting back up now, I've been getting pretty nice checks.' Zach explained that the checks were based on the hours you worked right before the fire and he had been doing 50 plus hours up to that point. 'Yeah but I'm glad were going to be back up and running again.' Sam replied. He could see how Zach would enjoy it, as a person with an active social life. Getting paid, and not working, hanging out doing things, it must have felt like a long vacation for him.
Sam looked inside and saw that Gary was started to speak, with everyone gathered around. 'It looks like they're starting,' Sam said, and they headed inside. 'Everyone who is still here,' Gary began. 'Is here, you had a few weeks you could have gotten other jobs. So listen up, the company has now put a lot of money into repairing this place and getting new equipment. So it's not going to be like before. And if you wanted something else you would have got it.' Sam looked around at everyone's expressions. 'Safety is going to be number one, and were going to have real camera's this time. It's not going to be the same.' Sam held back a chuckle, Yeah right, he thought. Nothings going to change around here.
Headquarters
'I trust that Dave gave you the broad strokes of what were looking for in a candidate?' Steve Rogers asked. Alex Milton nodded, 'Yes, he did.' I thought I had this already, the job. This feels like another interview. He had already had two and on the second one Dave had assured him that the job was his, but this one felt like another grilling session. 'The culture,' Alex said. 'You need someone to change the culture of laziness and apathy that led to the fire.' 'Exactly,' Steve said, although his expression noticeably changed when Alex mentioned the fire. 'You see Frank was a good guy and a loyal employee of the company for many years, but Frank wouldn't stand up for himself. He had a hard time taking charge, telling people what to do. Actual managing. We tried to work with him over the years but obviously made little progress. The smoke breaks, employee's going outside for a half-hour 45 minutes at a time. These are the kinds of behavior we are looking to change over there. We think this Diner has the potential to make real money again and we need someone who feels as strongly about that as we do.' 'Absolutely,' Alex replied. 'What about this Gary person I've been hearing about?
Steve grinned, 'Alex, as far as Gary in concerned, all you need to know about him is that he's out. You're in. He just doesn't know it yet.' Nice, Alex thought. 'What we basically need is for you to come in, and take charge, change the paradigm.' 'So do you know when you're going to reopen?' Alex asked. 'We've almost completed the repairs, but we need to get the ok from the health inspector before we can resume operations. Tentatively we are thinking about a week or so, but we'll probably have you started about a week after opening. Do you have any other questions regarding the position?' Alex pondered for a moment. He wasn't sure if he should bring it up, but part of him felt it would be worth it to at least try. 'About the pay.. 'I know it's not what you're expecting.' Steve interrupted him. 'But I think based on Dave's endorsement and what I've observed interviewing you I think we can give you an extra dollar an hour.' 'Excellent.' Alex said. Steve stood up, 'Welcome aboard.' He said shaking Alex's hand. Going to have free reign, Alex thought to himself.
It was strange seeing all of them in the same room. All three shifts, some old, some young, quite a varying cast, Sam thought as he looked around. They were all gathered in the stools and booths of the restaurant, and it was interesting to see how the groups gathered together. Nick and Shelby from second shift sat with Zach, and also Kevin who had just started. Ed, from the overnight, who always seemed to look like he just woke up, with Jim and Judy. And John, the overnight waiter, who stood alone. Sam had seldom seen him sit down and had heard that he never slept, not in the sense that most people did. In long eight hour period. He would get off work at 8am and go run errands do things around the house, and then only sleep for one or two hour periods. He had gotten used to sleeping that way, Sam heard. It was hard to imagine. Sam had covered a few overnight's in the past, and when he had gotten out at 8 he had always been wiped. He had even gotten a six pack once after a shift, and had only drank two before passing out from sheer exhaustion.
Sam was sitting with Andrea in a booth by themselves. He was still somewhat possessive of her, as if he was afraid someone would come and take her away at any moment. They had smoked a joint on the way over, and we're feeling giggly. 'I wish we could have a burger, or some onion rings.' She said. 'Yeah, definitely.' 'Don't you want to introduce me to some of you're co-workers?' She asked. Sam nodded. He wasn't really sure why he brought he here, mainly so he wouldn't be alone here. But in the back of his mind he knew part of it was showing off. They had been sitting in a booth in the corner at first, still waiting for everyone to arrive. 'You know you don't have to be anti-social all the time.' She commented. 'Yeah I know.' Sam said and got up to rise. She seemed to have a lot of commentary like that. What he should do, pointing out little things and little nitpicks. She usually did it with a playful smile, but sometimes it wore on him.
Sam saw that Zach and Kevin were outside smoking cigarettes at the picnic table. 'Hey, Zach.' He began. 'What's going on?' Zach said. 'This is my girlfriend Andrea.' Zach smiled and shook her hand, 'I work at the liquor store, that's how we met.' She said giggling. 'That, figures.' Zach replied. They all laughed, Sam pretended do, but deep down it hurt. Did she have to mention that. Kevin got up, 'I'm Kevin.' He said to her. 'Nice to meet you.' She said shaking his hand. 'We've been closed for a long time now.' Sam said. 'Yeah,' Zach remarked. 'It sucks were starting back up now, I've been getting pretty nice checks.' Zach explained that the checks were based on the hours you worked right before the fire and he had been doing 50 plus hours up to that point. 'Yeah but I'm glad were going to be back up and running again.' Sam replied. He could see how Zach would enjoy it, as a person with an active social life. Getting paid, and not working, hanging out doing things, it must have felt like a long vacation for him.
Sam looked inside and saw that Gary was started to speak, with everyone gathered around. 'It looks like they're starting,' Sam said, and they headed inside. 'Everyone who is still here,' Gary began. 'Is here, you had a few weeks you could have gotten other jobs. So listen up, the company has now put a lot of money into repairing this place and getting new equipment. So it's not going to be like before. And if you wanted something else you would have got it.' Sam looked around at everyone's expressions. 'Safety is going to be number one, and were going to have real camera's this time. It's not going to be the same.' Sam held back a chuckle, Yeah right, he thought. Nothings going to change around here.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Babylon is falling, it was foolish to build it on the sand
Zach racked the billiard balls in the center of the table and positioned them. He placed the white ball at the center of the table as he always did, 'Do you think you could get me in there?' Kevin asked, wiping the tip of his poolsitck with the chalk waiting his answer. Zach hesitated for a second, feigning that he was positioning his shot before answering. Kevin had asked the same question of him several times before, over the years and he had provided him with the same stock, ambiguous answer. They were hiring usually it was true. But what Zach feared the most was that they would be hiring, and Zach would give his ok and Kevin would get hired, and he would proceed to call out, no call no-show, or do something else preposterous and he would get blamed.
Kevin was a nice guy to associate with outside of work. He was pleasant somewhat normal, was easy to deal with, all around good guy. 'I'm not even sure when they're opening anyway. They haven't even started construction.' Zach began breaking the rack. Kevin watched as the balls dispersed, 'Yeah but wasn't that over a month ago?' He asked. 'Yeah but you know every time I ask Gary he give me a different answer.' Zach replied. He had told Kevin all about Gary, his wild stories, his claims of his vast wealth, his strange personality. But Kevin had also visited Zach at work before, smoked bowls in the shed, and in general had a pretty good idea how things were run over there. He knows, Zach thought, that is he get's in there he can pretty much get away with anything. Kevin took his shot and sank a solid in the corner pocket, 'I don't mean to bother you to much man, but I've been out of work for the past few months and my parents are starting to get on my ass. There's nothing out there, either.' He took another shot and got it in again.
Zach looked at the table to assess his next shot. He Kevin's parents getting 'On his ass.' was basically shorthand for they were going to kick him out of the house soon if he didn't get a job or do something with his life. Of course Kevin would never admit anything like that, but Zach had known him long enough to read between the lines, to read the subtext. Oftentimes it revealed far more then someone's actual speech. 'Well they got us watching the Diner now for six hours shifts or so, letting customers use the bathroom. I'm doing to tomorrow 12-6 if you want to come with, Gary will probably stop by at some point. We could definitely make a few trips out to the shed.' Zach lined up a shot and sunk a stripe. 'Yeah, sound good to me.' Kevin replied. I'm going to regret this, Zach thought. Oftentimes being a nice guy, didn't always pan out so well. There was always the off chance that Gary wouldn't hire him, wouldn't like him for some reason. However that seemed unlikely, as he seemed to hire just about anyone who applied. I suppose he couldn't be any worse then some of the people they hired..
'Do you have a passion for cooking?' Karl asked. 'Yeah, definitely.' Sam replied but with far less confident then he would have liked. It was a strange question to him and something he certainly had never asked himself before. When he had started at the diner he had little formal training, and the diner had taught him everything he knew. In truth he had applied for the job because the diner had been closed for over a month and it seemed as if little progress had been made in restoring the kitchen. They had started some of the work but it still was unclear when, if ever it would be done. Karl was the manager of the Inn a big man with a large head and a crushing handshake. He was seated in the lobby of the Inn, with two of the other Chef's Sara and Erik, all of whom asked him questions. Do you know how to make Hollandaise sauce? Can you work on your own with minimal supervision? Sam had managed to answer the question to the best of his abilities but he could sense he was falling short. Essentially what he conveyed to them was that although he may lack all the technical skills, he was adaptable and willing to learn. 'We like to think of ourselves as a learning kitchen so we can definitely show you some things if we think you're the right candidate for the position.' Chef Sara the head Chef said finally. 'So what we'd like to do is have you come in and do a bench test to see if you're a good fit. Can you come in tomorrow at 10?' 'Sure.' Sam replied.
'Ok, we'll see you then.' Sara answered. He shook hands with Karl and Erik and walked out of the lobby outside, it was warm but with a nice breeze. She was waiting outside, by his van looking at her phone. 'How did it go?' She asked as she saw him emerge. 'Ok I think,' Sam replied getting into driver's seat. 'Do I have a passion for cooking?' He asked her. Her name was Andrea and he still couldn't believe he'd actually hooked up with her. Mere weeks ago she had been merely a girl he had interacted with at the liquor store and sometimes talked to. 'I don't know, do you?' She asked innocently. 'I guess, I mean I like it sure. But why do I have to be so invested in it? Why do I have to have such specific reasons for wanted to work at a particular place? Maybe I just want the money. I mean if they get me in and I show up on time, work hard and get things done isn't it a win-win?' Sam answered.
He started the car and they pulled out. 'I think you overthink these things too much, Sam.' She remarked as they pulled out the parking lot down the main drive of the old historic village. 'Yeah maybe I do, it's just this is the first interview I've had for a new job in a while. I'm thinking I want to get out of there before they open back up.' 'You've been saying this since I met you, why don't you take action? Get out there?' She asked him as he turned on the main road. 'You're a tough audience aren't you?' Sam said jokingly. 'Well, its true. Nothing is ever going to change if you don't take the first steps.' She replied. 'Hey reach into the center console I got a half a joint in there. Light that up.' Andrea reached in and sparked it up. 'You certainly got a passion for smoking.' She said as she passed the joint over to him.
'Hey that's not fair,' Sam answered. 'I got a passion for banging. A passion for you.' She smiled and blushed a little. I certainly have that.
Kevin was a nice guy to associate with outside of work. He was pleasant somewhat normal, was easy to deal with, all around good guy. 'I'm not even sure when they're opening anyway. They haven't even started construction.' Zach began breaking the rack. Kevin watched as the balls dispersed, 'Yeah but wasn't that over a month ago?' He asked. 'Yeah but you know every time I ask Gary he give me a different answer.' Zach replied. He had told Kevin all about Gary, his wild stories, his claims of his vast wealth, his strange personality. But Kevin had also visited Zach at work before, smoked bowls in the shed, and in general had a pretty good idea how things were run over there. He knows, Zach thought, that is he get's in there he can pretty much get away with anything. Kevin took his shot and sank a solid in the corner pocket, 'I don't mean to bother you to much man, but I've been out of work for the past few months and my parents are starting to get on my ass. There's nothing out there, either.' He took another shot and got it in again.
Zach looked at the table to assess his next shot. He Kevin's parents getting 'On his ass.' was basically shorthand for they were going to kick him out of the house soon if he didn't get a job or do something with his life. Of course Kevin would never admit anything like that, but Zach had known him long enough to read between the lines, to read the subtext. Oftentimes it revealed far more then someone's actual speech. 'Well they got us watching the Diner now for six hours shifts or so, letting customers use the bathroom. I'm doing to tomorrow 12-6 if you want to come with, Gary will probably stop by at some point. We could definitely make a few trips out to the shed.' Zach lined up a shot and sunk a stripe. 'Yeah, sound good to me.' Kevin replied. I'm going to regret this, Zach thought. Oftentimes being a nice guy, didn't always pan out so well. There was always the off chance that Gary wouldn't hire him, wouldn't like him for some reason. However that seemed unlikely, as he seemed to hire just about anyone who applied. I suppose he couldn't be any worse then some of the people they hired..
'Do you have a passion for cooking?' Karl asked. 'Yeah, definitely.' Sam replied but with far less confident then he would have liked. It was a strange question to him and something he certainly had never asked himself before. When he had started at the diner he had little formal training, and the diner had taught him everything he knew. In truth he had applied for the job because the diner had been closed for over a month and it seemed as if little progress had been made in restoring the kitchen. They had started some of the work but it still was unclear when, if ever it would be done. Karl was the manager of the Inn a big man with a large head and a crushing handshake. He was seated in the lobby of the Inn, with two of the other Chef's Sara and Erik, all of whom asked him questions. Do you know how to make Hollandaise sauce? Can you work on your own with minimal supervision? Sam had managed to answer the question to the best of his abilities but he could sense he was falling short. Essentially what he conveyed to them was that although he may lack all the technical skills, he was adaptable and willing to learn. 'We like to think of ourselves as a learning kitchen so we can definitely show you some things if we think you're the right candidate for the position.' Chef Sara the head Chef said finally. 'So what we'd like to do is have you come in and do a bench test to see if you're a good fit. Can you come in tomorrow at 10?' 'Sure.' Sam replied.
'Ok, we'll see you then.' Sara answered. He shook hands with Karl and Erik and walked out of the lobby outside, it was warm but with a nice breeze. She was waiting outside, by his van looking at her phone. 'How did it go?' She asked as she saw him emerge. 'Ok I think,' Sam replied getting into driver's seat. 'Do I have a passion for cooking?' He asked her. Her name was Andrea and he still couldn't believe he'd actually hooked up with her. Mere weeks ago she had been merely a girl he had interacted with at the liquor store and sometimes talked to. 'I don't know, do you?' She asked innocently. 'I guess, I mean I like it sure. But why do I have to be so invested in it? Why do I have to have such specific reasons for wanted to work at a particular place? Maybe I just want the money. I mean if they get me in and I show up on time, work hard and get things done isn't it a win-win?' Sam answered.
He started the car and they pulled out. 'I think you overthink these things too much, Sam.' She remarked as they pulled out the parking lot down the main drive of the old historic village. 'Yeah maybe I do, it's just this is the first interview I've had for a new job in a while. I'm thinking I want to get out of there before they open back up.' 'You've been saying this since I met you, why don't you take action? Get out there?' She asked him as he turned on the main road. 'You're a tough audience aren't you?' Sam said jokingly. 'Well, its true. Nothing is ever going to change if you don't take the first steps.' She replied. 'Hey reach into the center console I got a half a joint in there. Light that up.' Andrea reached in and sparked it up. 'You certainly got a passion for smoking.' She said as she passed the joint over to him.
'Hey that's not fair,' Sam answered. 'I got a passion for banging. A passion for you.' She smiled and blushed a little. I certainly have that.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
The charlatan
This will be the one, Alex Milton thought as he drove down the the highway. This will be the one that I'll get that will take me out of this slump. He said that word to himself as he drove, like a mantra. The same mantra he had been repeating to himself for the past eight months. Of course it had seemed true for the last few places, he had gotten a second interview and things seemed to be going well, but then it had fallen through. Collapsed. Usually shortly after they had checked his references, either they didn't respond of they told him they weren't interested. It was hard to tell which was worse, a non-response was obviously bad, they didn't even take the time to tell him they didn't want him for the job, but telling him in some ways was just as bad. Sure they would usually say they would take him into consideration for future openings but that did him little good. For him the future was now, and as it stood right now the future looked bleak, desolate. In fact, as far
as he knew if this interview didn't go as he hoped it would he was through. Finished. His wife would leave him, she had all but said it before, and in the long run his unemployment would run out. He had heard horror stories on the new's about the long term unemployed, how the government had cut off their benefits, how they had struggled to find work. That's not going to be me, Alex thought as he looked at the highway sign reading '91' in large dark letters. This has to work, he saw 'F.R. Rogers' printed in large letters on the side of their headquarters and knew he was close. Here we go, he thought.
Dave sat at his desk looking at the resume thinking he might have struck gold. That perhaps, despite all of his thoughts to the contrary that he might have found what he was looking for. A spotty resume, sketchy reasons for leaving his previous positions, and just enough management experience to sell it to upper management. The day before had been all headaches, interviews, looking at resume's, having to evaluate every little detail, Having to tell qualified applicant's that they would let them know. A few were bad, maybe what he was looking for but not quite bad enough, not enough to bring the thing down. They had just started rebuilding the kitchen in the diner and daily and they had kept pestering him, 'When will you find a new manager?' 'What's going on with the job search?' He had been able to stall them for a bit, explaining that he had a lot of people to go over, interviews to conduct, but still they had persisted.
Dave took a percocet from his pocket and popped it in his mouth. He chased it down with coffee from his desk. He had had to pull some strings to get the prescription, claiming back pain, but it had been worth it. He still had a prescription for the Xanax but at this point it hadn't really done much good, he had developed a tolerance to it, he had 3 before coming into the office, so he needed something to combine it with. So far it seemed to work, although he caught himself nodding off a few times. The phone rang, 'Hello, Dave.' He answered. 'An Alex Milton to see you for an interview.' his secretary replied on the line. 'Send him in.' Dave responded. Fuck, he thought, I got to do another interview. He had done a few before and they had all been nauseating, all these damn over achievers talking about how great they were.
Alex had been different. He was confident, but it was obvious that it was misplaced. The door opened, and Alex walked in, Dave rose. 'Thanks for coming back for a second interview.' Dave said shaking his hand. 'Have a seat.' Dave gestured toward the seat in front of his desk. 'Now that you are here, I'm interested why do you want to work for F.R. Rogers company?' Because it's a job with a paycheck, Alex thought but he restrained himself. 'Well I am interested in the opportunity to improve you're business, improve revenue.' 'Improve how?' Dave asked, enjoying the exchange. 'Well I heard the diner burned down, and that the former manager might have been the one responsible.' Dave paused for a moment, to suppress a laugh. If only they had finished the job, he thought. 'Well that's true Alex, and I think that also the problem that we at the diner was something like a culture. A sort of acceptance of mediocrity of thing being, 'Just the way they are,' and not attempting to aim higher.' 'Absolutely,' Alex said. 'And I think as you're new manager I can bring all of that to the table. I can change the culture.'
Dave smiled, 'Alex I think you're going to have a bright future with F.R. Rogers.' He rose and shook his hand. This is the one, he thought, this is the one who can bring it all down.
as he knew if this interview didn't go as he hoped it would he was through. Finished. His wife would leave him, she had all but said it before, and in the long run his unemployment would run out. He had heard horror stories on the new's about the long term unemployed, how the government had cut off their benefits, how they had struggled to find work. That's not going to be me, Alex thought as he looked at the highway sign reading '91' in large dark letters. This has to work, he saw 'F.R. Rogers' printed in large letters on the side of their headquarters and knew he was close. Here we go, he thought.
Dave sat at his desk looking at the resume thinking he might have struck gold. That perhaps, despite all of his thoughts to the contrary that he might have found what he was looking for. A spotty resume, sketchy reasons for leaving his previous positions, and just enough management experience to sell it to upper management. The day before had been all headaches, interviews, looking at resume's, having to evaluate every little detail, Having to tell qualified applicant's that they would let them know. A few were bad, maybe what he was looking for but not quite bad enough, not enough to bring the thing down. They had just started rebuilding the kitchen in the diner and daily and they had kept pestering him, 'When will you find a new manager?' 'What's going on with the job search?' He had been able to stall them for a bit, explaining that he had a lot of people to go over, interviews to conduct, but still they had persisted.
Dave took a percocet from his pocket and popped it in his mouth. He chased it down with coffee from his desk. He had had to pull some strings to get the prescription, claiming back pain, but it had been worth it. He still had a prescription for the Xanax but at this point it hadn't really done much good, he had developed a tolerance to it, he had 3 before coming into the office, so he needed something to combine it with. So far it seemed to work, although he caught himself nodding off a few times. The phone rang, 'Hello, Dave.' He answered. 'An Alex Milton to see you for an interview.' his secretary replied on the line. 'Send him in.' Dave responded. Fuck, he thought, I got to do another interview. He had done a few before and they had all been nauseating, all these damn over achievers talking about how great they were.
Alex had been different. He was confident, but it was obvious that it was misplaced. The door opened, and Alex walked in, Dave rose. 'Thanks for coming back for a second interview.' Dave said shaking his hand. 'Have a seat.' Dave gestured toward the seat in front of his desk. 'Now that you are here, I'm interested why do you want to work for F.R. Rogers company?' Because it's a job with a paycheck, Alex thought but he restrained himself. 'Well I am interested in the opportunity to improve you're business, improve revenue.' 'Improve how?' Dave asked, enjoying the exchange. 'Well I heard the diner burned down, and that the former manager might have been the one responsible.' Dave paused for a moment, to suppress a laugh. If only they had finished the job, he thought. 'Well that's true Alex, and I think that also the problem that we at the diner was something like a culture. A sort of acceptance of mediocrity of thing being, 'Just the way they are,' and not attempting to aim higher.' 'Absolutely,' Alex said. 'And I think as you're new manager I can bring all of that to the table. I can change the culture.'
Dave smiled, 'Alex I think you're going to have a bright future with F.R. Rogers.' He rose and shook his hand. This is the one, he thought, this is the one who can bring it all down.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
'
`They got new camera's now,' Jim said as he took a sip of beers. They're going to be able to watch you know from headquarters, and if they look at the feed and see that you aren't doing any work they're going to call the restaurant and send you home.' 'Shit.' Sam said without much emphasis, it seemed unlikely unless something about the diner fundamentally changed. It had been over two weeks since the fire and there was still no sign that work on rebuilding the kitchen was being done, or when it would even begin. The first couple weeks had been ok, not having to work and getting paid, but after a little while it was dull. He missed the structure the orders of the day, he missed cooking. 'It's been hard the past few weeks,' Sam began, 'I sounds strange but I kind of miss the place.' 'Yup.' Jim nodded.
Jim had hardly exchanged more than a word or two to Sam when they were at work. Usually a, 'Hi,' or sometimes a non-verbal nod, but when he had run into him at the bar it seemed like you couldn't shut him up. They had talked for a while. Sam had run into Jim and Judy at the Afterworks shortly after he had shown up. He had gone down to the bar only after he had a 22 and a couple of shots, mainly on a whimsy. The sheer novelty of it, heading out into the world of people, had appealed to him. The bar, it was probably the single most inefficient and expensive method of getting drunk but he had gone. Mainly because he already had a 22 and a shot at home right before. It was the only way of making it work, making it worth extra expense.
Sam had hardly been in there five minutes before Jim and Judy had shown up, and they had exchanged greetings. 'I was over there watching the place and it looked like they hadn't even started.' Sam remarked.
'Yeah,' Jim said. 'Gary said we should open up again by Thanksgiving, but who knows with him?' Sam laughed. 'It's ok, he doesn't really need to work, he's a millionaire!' Jim laughed. They regaled each other with Gary stories, how he had a house on Cape Cod worth 90 million dollars, all the tales. Jim had been buying him beers through it all, further fueling the conversation.
Sam was starting to feel the effects. 'I'm gonna head back.' He said. 'Watch out,' Judy warned. 'The Deerfield Police hang out waiting for people coming out.' Sam nodded and got out. He had the feeling that people were watching him. He always had that feeling, that when he walked into a room or a situation, he was the odd man out, somehow unwelcome. Estranged, the air was cold on his face. He looked at his
phone, she still had not called. They had a somewhat strange date a few days before and she hadn't called,
since. It wasn't horrible but it wasn't great either, Sam thought as he walked over to his van. In the back of
his mine he wondered openly if he didn't want her to call back, to respond. If it was something like a dog
chasing a squirrel or a rat and, on the rare instance in which he caught it, wasn't really sure what to do with it.
there was a lot of pressure involved, to perform, to be the man.
Amazing, Sam thought as he walked to his van and opened the door. This simple thing this
liquid, something so simple, can take us somewhere else. Can have such an impact, that we spend so much
just so that we can be taken, however briefly, to somewhere else. It was hard to tell if he had made a good
impression, a bad impression, or any impression at all for that matter. He never knew
how to gauge females, or if what he was doing was working. He had been 'out of work',
so to speak for quite some time, and had gotten used to it. Before, he hadn't thought of it
as something anyone could get used to but slowly he had adapted.
Being single was like being marooned on a deserted isle. The first step was denial,
'It's ok, a ship will come soon, help is on the way.' Then of course, after a few weeks,
when it becomes painfully obvious that help is not coming, and that, in fact, no is even
searching for you, comes a grudging acceptance. A certain frame of mind that no help
is actually forthcoming, but maybe actually, if you can stay together and get through it
you might realize that, your alright by yourself.
Sam as he saw it, was far beyond all of these stages. He was Colonel Kurtz at the end
of 'Apocolypse Now' being worshipped by thousands of natives. He pulled out a nip
from the dashboard and finished it, as he did he noticed a text come up on his phone.
He threw the nip in the center console and picked up his phone. 'Hey, wanna hang out?'
it read, a way out, to civilization, he thought.
`They got new camera's now,' Jim said as he took a sip of beers. They're going to be able to watch you know from headquarters, and if they look at the feed and see that you aren't doing any work they're going to call the restaurant and send you home.' 'Shit.' Sam said without much emphasis, it seemed unlikely unless something about the diner fundamentally changed. It had been over two weeks since the fire and there was still no sign that work on rebuilding the kitchen was being done, or when it would even begin. The first couple weeks had been ok, not having to work and getting paid, but after a little while it was dull. He missed the structure the orders of the day, he missed cooking. 'It's been hard the past few weeks,' Sam began, 'I sounds strange but I kind of miss the place.' 'Yup.' Jim nodded.
Jim had hardly exchanged more than a word or two to Sam when they were at work. Usually a, 'Hi,' or sometimes a non-verbal nod, but when he had run into him at the bar it seemed like you couldn't shut him up. They had talked for a while. Sam had run into Jim and Judy at the Afterworks shortly after he had shown up. He had gone down to the bar only after he had a 22 and a couple of shots, mainly on a whimsy. The sheer novelty of it, heading out into the world of people, had appealed to him. The bar, it was probably the single most inefficient and expensive method of getting drunk but he had gone. Mainly because he already had a 22 and a shot at home right before. It was the only way of making it work, making it worth extra expense.
Sam had hardly been in there five minutes before Jim and Judy had shown up, and they had exchanged greetings. 'I was over there watching the place and it looked like they hadn't even started.' Sam remarked.
'Yeah,' Jim said. 'Gary said we should open up again by Thanksgiving, but who knows with him?' Sam laughed. 'It's ok, he doesn't really need to work, he's a millionaire!' Jim laughed. They regaled each other with Gary stories, how he had a house on Cape Cod worth 90 million dollars, all the tales. Jim had been buying him beers through it all, further fueling the conversation.
Sam was starting to feel the effects. 'I'm gonna head back.' He said. 'Watch out,' Judy warned. 'The Deerfield Police hang out waiting for people coming out.' Sam nodded and got out. He had the feeling that people were watching him. He always had that feeling, that when he walked into a room or a situation, he was the odd man out, somehow unwelcome. Estranged, the air was cold on his face. He looked at his
phone, she still had not called. They had a somewhat strange date a few days before and she hadn't called,
since. It wasn't horrible but it wasn't great either, Sam thought as he walked over to his van. In the back of
his mine he wondered openly if he didn't want her to call back, to respond. If it was something like a dog
chasing a squirrel or a rat and, on the rare instance in which he caught it, wasn't really sure what to do with it.
there was a lot of pressure involved, to perform, to be the man.
Amazing, Sam thought as he walked to his van and opened the door. This simple thing this
liquid, something so simple, can take us somewhere else. Can have such an impact, that we spend so much
just so that we can be taken, however briefly, to somewhere else. It was hard to tell if he had made a good
impression, a bad impression, or any impression at all for that matter. He never knew
how to gauge females, or if what he was doing was working. He had been 'out of work',
so to speak for quite some time, and had gotten used to it. Before, he hadn't thought of it
as something anyone could get used to but slowly he had adapted.
Being single was like being marooned on a deserted isle. The first step was denial,
'It's ok, a ship will come soon, help is on the way.' Then of course, after a few weeks,
when it becomes painfully obvious that help is not coming, and that, in fact, no is even
searching for you, comes a grudging acceptance. A certain frame of mind that no help
is actually forthcoming, but maybe actually, if you can stay together and get through it
you might realize that, your alright by yourself.
Sam as he saw it, was far beyond all of these stages. He was Colonel Kurtz at the end
of 'Apocolypse Now' being worshipped by thousands of natives. He pulled out a nip
from the dashboard and finished it, as he did he noticed a text come up on his phone.
He threw the nip in the center console and picked up his phone. 'Hey, wanna hang out?'
it read, a way out, to civilization, he thought.
Monday, May 5, 2014
Everybody have fun tonight
Headquarters
Dave felt a pang of anxiety as he
drove down the interstate toward F.R. Rogers corporate headquarters. He had been dreading this meeting since he
had heard the previous Monday that a grease fire had burned down the kitchen
and part of the back. He had also heard that Frank was there and may have been
responsible. At first he had hoped that
they had some footage from the camera only to find out the camera’s hadn’t been
working for weeks, and anyway they didn’t even have one on the line. The fire had also done damage to the roof,
and they were waiting to hear if the insurance would cover it. He was hoping deeply that they would just cut
their losses, shut it down. Of all the
13 retail locations in his district that Diner was the one that gave him the
most problems. It was the one they were always talking about. The way he saw it they could still make money
from gas station and the diesel pumps, more in fact.
Large letters F.R. Rogers loomed on
the side of the building greeting Dave as he made his way to the exit. A few people in the company would resist,
most likely. The old man would be the problem. He had bought that diner over 40
years before, had a sentimental attachment to it. It had been quite a boon to
the company in the early years, before there were many other late night
options. Dave could see in a way, the nostalgic
appeal but the way he saw it sentimentality and nostalgia were not sound
business principles. The place was dysfunctional, Dave could see that from the
moment he took over as district manager.
He pulled off the exit toward the road that led to headquarters.
Frank had his issues, Dave knew,
but the one thing that could be said about the man was that he was predictable.
Every day, for the entire time he was manager, he had never been so much as a
minute late, or had called out sick. Now he had disappeared. No one could find
him. They had called his family, friends, no one had heard from him. They found
his SUV parked near a greyhound bus terminal, and that was the last trace of
him. They said around 300 dollars was missing from the safe, not that it
mattered, they had no cameras. Dave
pulled into his space near the entrance. The perks of being district manager,
he thought, amused. He had spoken to John and Coleen an urged them to not
mention Frank’s presence or any mention of foul play. It might jeopardize their chances of getting
any return from the insurance company.
Dave took a sip of his coffee as he
got out of his car. He could feel them kicking in, Xanax, he usually took a
least two just to make the meeting more bearable. He could listen to them drone on about
profits and losses without wanting to strangle himself. This is probably it, he thought as he walked
into the building. They’re going to call it quit’s, this albatross over me will
finally be over. It seemed the most
likely outcome given the circumstances.
The bigwig’s had been talking about it for years, shutting the place down and now they finally had an
excuse. It was like an old shitty car
that broke down and the repairs cost more than the car itself was worth. Better
to disregard it, rather then put in all the work.
Dave got into the elevator and
pushed the door to the tenth floor. He
knew exactly what he was going to say and how to say it. The Xanax combined
with the coffee had given him the proper inspiration. He watched the elevator slowly ascend to the floor. God, or whatever, make this go the way I want
it, he prayed to himself silently. He got out of the elevator and made his way
into the conference room. They were all
sitting around the table talking, Dave wasn’t listening to the particulars, but
he thought he got the gist of it. Steve Roger’s the old man Charlie’s son was
talking. ‘So Dave what do you think?’ He asked? Dave was taken aback slightly,
he had just arrived. ‘I think we should cut our losses, shut it down, keeps the
pumps going.’ He looked around in sudden horror at the look of disgust on his
colleagues faces. ‘We were talking about
how were going to find a new manager for the diner.’ Steve said eyeing Dave harshly.
‘You’re not shutting down my Dad’s diner. I know some of you thought that was
the plan but you were wrong. Only the
kitchen was damaged in the fire, the dining room is still intact, we just got
word from our insurance they’re going to reimburse us. We are going to rebuild
it.’
‘Of course.’ Dave managed, feeling
awkward. It was the last thing he expected to hear. ‘I need to use the
bathroom.’ He said and slowly made his way out of the room. He felt the bottle
of Xanax in his pocket as he walked over to the bathroom. Dave walked into the stall and took a couple
pill out of the bottle, chewing them. The taste was terrible but it hit you
quicker, the old man. He’s responsible. Well, he reasoned it would probably be
a month or two before it was up and running again, maybe I’ll find a new job by
then.
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