The figure walked slowly towards the front doors. Before you know it, we'll have dozens of customers at night!" Eugene said as he stepped out of his office. Why would anyone want some overly priced burger at 11 pm? The bus doors opened as Bob ran out of the kitchen, squealing excitedly. For all I care, the less customers the better.Īll I want right now is to play my clarin - wait a minute. One time, Bob tried adding food coloring to the burgers we sold, but the FDA said that adding 10 gallons of red dye was "not safe". However, it's not the worst idea we've had. It's a ridiculous idea, I needed my beauty sleep. My boss, Eugene, insisted that we have a 24/7 policy. He had the mental capacity of a walnut and his only accomplishment in life was opening a jar of pickles. Enough said, I hate my job.īut here I am, working the late shift. Rick was the kind of guy you'd never want to meet. The worst part about my job was his friend. He woke up every morning at 3:15 just to go to this lousy place. The sunspot was much too happy for comfort. His name was Bob, but everyone called him Yellow. It was an okay job, I was paid below minimum wage and my only coworker was an overly optimistic prick. It was very rusty, although the regulars called it crusty. I was employed at a local restaurant, if you'd even call it that. It was 10:30 at night and I was still at work.
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