You know how it's 99% disgusting to throw-up? It stinks, burns, splashes everywhere, makes your eyes water, and cramps up your stomach muscles. BUT, there is the 1%. That far corner of your mind that you don't want to admit is there in the middle of your five alarm fire of hot mess. It is the part that is enjoying the vomiting process. Hopefully, my blog is that 1% .

Friday, March 25, 2011

This Really Happened 7

After the debacle that was my Magic Mountain employment, I picked myself up, dusted myself off, assessed my worth and got a job at Jack-in-the-Box.

What could go wrong? I'd learn about the culinary arts and commerce. I guess I should have known something was up 5 minutes into my interview when I was handed Jack Jeans and a spatula. Ten minutes later,I replaced a dropped, frozen, burger patty onto the grill with the smiling approval of Felix. Of course, the smile was probably from his getting it on with some ditchweed in the backseat of his Tercel. I dressed burgers with the focus and steadiness of an oral surgeon. I learned to deep-fry tacos, fish patties and potatoes with the efficiency of an apathetic teenager. Anyone that's ever worked in a restaurant knows that burns are badges of honor. I eventually built callouses so thick, I could put my hand on the grill for 8 seconds. Nothing fazed me. My customers came in drunk, naked, tweaking, vulgar, and Republican. I met them all with indifference but dedicated service. Felix and I decided it was time to make a permanent commitment so he walked with me next-store to the Cut-Bait Tattoo salon where we had Cleanliness, Friendliness and Quality inked across our backs in French Fry font.

Upon punching back in, Manny told me that Stephanie (drive-thru operator) asked about me (code for was looking for the secret-sauce dispenser). This was JIB go-time. I slipped into the restroom, popped a nose zit and straightened out my hairpart. Was I ready? I wasn't even a Shift-Leader yet. How I played this out would affect (effect?) my entire future. I washed my face, pulled out my penis and closed my eyes (I have a really hard time looking at my cock when I address it, "It's just you and me Pinky, time to get laid." (I used to be succinct).

Feeling good, I walked straight through the store, approached Steph and told her it was time to get it on. She smacked me across the left cheek so hard, I had time to piss my Jack Jeans before my knees buckled. Goddammit did that sting. Fucking Manny. What a 1st day!

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