He had been at his post since the days of King Aerys

2007

Gary took a look around the parking lot as he lit his cigarette. It was filled with trucks but about half as full as it would be later in the year. The air was quiet. It had been busy earlier, and Gary had had to help the cook out on the line for a few minutes. He hadn't minded, he had years of cooking experience, he knew how to handle himself on the line, It had just bothered him that he had to go out there even though they had two cooks on that night. The other cook, Jake, had been outside, something like that. When Gary had asked Ben, the cook who was there, where Jake was, he said he was, 'On break.' Something like that. Gary had been out in the dining area talking to a customer when he had noticed Jake going outside. Gary and Ben had busted it out, still, it had been 10 long slips, Jake should have been out there. Whatever, Gary thought, as he took a drag of his cigarette, he never complained, no matter how much everyone else seemed to.

It seemed like everything he heard, from the moment he stepped in the door, was complaints. The first was from Frank, the manager, over all the things the guy's on his shift didn't do at night. And of course, if he came in in the morning he got an earful about what the overnight shift hadn't done their jobs the previous night, and how they should all be fired. Which led him to wonder sometimes, who exactly, would fill in for them after he had gotten rid of them, since exactly no one wanted the hours. The hours, it seemed like everyone wanted them but not one seemed to want to do any actual work. Gary felt that breeze against his shirt, it was nice to be outside, and to have no one talking to him. To not have to deal with any grievances, or requests, or complaints, to have only the stillness of an early summer night, the cool breeze. Peace. He saw the flashing lights of the police cruiser before he saw where it was going, toward the back of the parking lot, behind the shed. Ben, Fuck, he thought.

Ben put the last order in the window and felt a surge of relief. He had done it, he had gotten through most of his shift and now it was time to get high. Not a little high, with a mild grin on the face, and a few chuckles, he intended to go full blown catatonics, grinning Cheshire cat high. He had earned it. He had been working for the past 8 days straight without a day off, sometimes 12 hours a day because someone had called out, and now he was finally done. He had the next two days off, and it felt like bliss. Like heaven. He felt like God who had toiled for those 6 days to be rewarded with that 7th day of rest. In fact better than God because he had done eight days. And by god, he needed the rest. Ben walked out the door of the kitchen in the dining area, no menus. Everything is done, thank god. 'I'm going outside,' He told Lindsay, the Waitress, she nodded. She knew what that meant, they all knew what it meant. It meant the cook was going outside to get relief, to do something. To smoke a cigarette, to snort a line of blow, shoot some heroin, smoke a bowl, get a cup of coffee, something that would make the last few minutes of his shift bearable. To make him whole again. They all seemed to accept this, this unwritten understanding, and that, in the 5 to 20 minutes the cook was out there, hopefully whatever they were doing they would return all the better for it.

In this regard, Ben intended to excel. He looked at this phone, 11:40, just enough time. He was on until 12 at which point someone would come in to relieve him. Just enough time. Ben walked into the back through the prep area, he had a fat bowl of kind bud waiting for him, this is going to be nice. He felt the warm air greet him as he walked outside, thank god, Ben thought as he got inside his car. He took out his lighter and took a hit of his bowl, he took a long draw, watching the smoke as he exhaled. He watched it drift through the car and then took another hit, the smoke whirling around him. The part where you get off, the best part of the shift. When all of the toil and the bullshit and the hard part was over. It had been a somewhat smooth shift except when Gary had come on the line and tried to help him. It wasn't even busy, he had 3 slips and had everything on the grill and in the fryers and Gary had come out and started stuff he thought would help him. Dropping fries, asking him about things he already had going, finally he had told him as politely as he could that he was all set.

Gary had fucked off, eventually, and he had gotten through the rest of the day without incident. He had told the waitress, Sarah, that he was going out for a smoke. She knew what he really meant, they all did. They all had a concept of what was going on, at such an ungodly hour. He took another hit, slowly exhaled and watched as the interior of the car filled with smoke. The blue lights came into his rear view slowly, and it was only after the car was bearing down on him that he really noticed them. Ben froze and watched as the car parked behind his and a large imposing figure in a Police outfit stepped out and walked towards his car. Ok, this sucks, he thought, but still it couldn't be that bad. He had never been in trouble before in his life, had no record or anything. It might be slightly unpleasant, but most likely not too horrible. He heard the tap on his window, he rolled it down. He saw the cop emerge from a waft of smoke as it burst from the car. 'Sir, have you been doing any drugs this evening?' The cop asked, casually. As if he he were asking about his veteran status. 'No,' Been said calmly. It seemed the best play. 'I'm going to have to ask you to exit the vehicle.' He said. He was about go get up when he noticed a figure come into focus in his rear view mirror, I took him a second but he realized it was Gary. It wasn't so much that the fact it was him, it was more how he strolled up to the scene. As if he were greeting someone in his backyard, without a care in the world. He saw Gary and the officer exchange a few words, then Gary took him aside and they exchanged a few more words, and the officer came back. 'You're free to go, young man. Thank your boss.'

Ben felt relief as the cop pulled away. Gary had come through, talked the cop out of arresting him, out of anything. Finally Gary had been talking to the cop for so long that Ben could tell the cop just wanted to get out of there, and finally he left. They stood outside the backdoor, smoking cigarettes. 'Sorry about that man, I didn't think there was anyone around.' Gary took a drag of his cigarette. 'I don't mind if you smoke, just not out there, in the lot. There are cops out there all the time at night. Next time just got in the shed.' Ben nodded. 'But won't Frank and first shift complain?' He asked. 'They'll be ok.' Which was Gary's way of saying that they would complain but nothing much would come of it.

Sam dropped a bag of homefries, and then dropped another couple orders of fries, the sound of the sizzle filling his ears. I love that sound, he thought. Of meat touching the grill, onions frying, the changing the property of something by applying heat to it, he loved it. Now though, he felt anything but love. It was all that he could muster to keep himself on that line, to not walk out. It had been a week or so since Alex had taken him and Zach into the office one at a time, to talk about 'What happened Friday.' He had heard that there were ticket times of a half hour or more, of people complaining. When he had explained that they had run out of grill space, and fryer space, he said simply that he, 'Wasn't interested in excuses.' It was then that Sam had realized he wasn't someone who was reasonable. Or qualified, or who knew what he was doing. In the 5 months Alex had been there he had been on the line for all of 5 minutes, and even then he didn't know what to do.

Sam folded the omelette, flipped it over. He picked up the homefries from the fryers and put them in a hat then unto the omelette.  He threw some cheese on the burger and then picked up the other fryer. This asshole, who hasn't been on the line, is telling me how to cook. Of course it had gotten worse. Sam had thought it was over, but just as he was leaving the office Alex had had the last word. 'Also, the only thing that should be smoked in the shed is tobacco.' Before closing the door. Sam put the order in the window. Is this guy just dead set on taking away everything good about working here? Not to mention the fact, the Mike, his right hand man, spent a good portion of his shift in there. Smoking something ever then tobacco. Every shift. Of course he hadn't said anything. He couldn't. Anyone says anything and the whole thing collapses, and he would be damned if he was going to let that happen. The shed was the one thing that kept him coming in, day after day, without calling out, for 2 years.  There wasn't much else the job had to offer, long hours, low pay, many times with little or no breaks. He had done quite a few without. He walked out of the door, and looked around the floor. As usual the customers, a few of the customers looked at him, which always made him uneasy.

Everyone had their food, there were no open menu's. 'I'm going outside.' Sam said to the waitress Lindsay. She nodded. They all know what goes on. He walked out the side door, toward the shed. Andrea had called him or tried to call him in over three weeks. He had tried to call her a few times, left a couple messages, with no response. It's over, a voice told him, it was a truth. A harsh truth. She had done with other women had done before, she had turned on him. One day you're laughing together, having sex, getting stoned, the next she won't even acknowledge you're existence. Like it never happened, like they had never had any kind of relations with you, as if it been deleted  from the official record, like a redacted CIA document. He walked into the shed. It's all going to shit he thought as he walked in, the shed, his relationship, it was all going downhill so fast. Zach was still technically the assistant manager, so he had that going for him. As long as he's there we have someone one our side, it was starting to feel like that. Him and everyone else at the diner against Alex, an interesting match. They had numbers on their side of course, but Alex had the company's blessing, he likely wasn't going away anytime soon.

Sam walked inside the shed, the smell of old cigarettes greeting him. A few old newspapers lay on the two egg crates that served as a table, he sat down on a table in the corner and took his tin out of his pocket. He extracted the joint and lit it up, taking a long puff. How long can an massively unpopular ruler impose his will on the masses, he thought to himself as he smoked. A long time, potentially, and even if he could be gotten rid of it would be a long battle, with many casualties. He pondered this as he exhaled watching the smoke fill the air, we've worked too hard to have him take it all away now, he thought. I think I'll call her when I get out to tonight, see what shes been up to...