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?

 

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.