Things I Thought About At Work Today

"The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters", by Francisco Goya. I was having a hard time finding an image for this post, so I decided to just try and impress you with my knowledge of art history.

Carl's Drive In, Night Shift, 5:30-9:30

5:26 PM: Man, why is it that I’m not allowed to clock in before my shift begins? If they’re going to be all uptight about us showing up five minutes early, we should at least get paid for it. Instead I just have to stand here like an idiot for four minutes, staring at the clock, waiting to punch in at EXACTLY 5:30. Bunch of cheap bastards. How much would I earn in four minutes? That’s like eight bucks an hour, divided by 60…

5:28 PM: …Wait, okay, maybe I multiply eight bucks by four, since I’m working four hours, and then I divide it by 60, but… No, that doesn’t make any sense. Four minutes is, like, four percent of an hour, right? So what’s four percent of eight? I need some paper…

5:30 PM: …So 60 times 100 is 6000, and then I divide that by 4000, and that gets me 1.5. No, no, that’s probably not right…

5:31 PM: …Hey, wait, I’ve got a calculator on my cell phone! I could just use this to- Oh, piss, now I’m late!

5:48 PM: Man alive, we need to start playing a new radio station in the dining room, because I’ve had it up to here with the John Tesh Radio Show and its infernal “Best soft rock of the 80s, 90s, and today!” I mean, it’s like he only plays five songs, and three of them are “Jack and Diane”. I guess “Jack and Diane” is a good enough song, but only in the right place and time – namely, the Washington Park High School prom in Racine, Wisconsin, in May of 1983. It’s the last song of the night, and Vanessa Jerzyck is crying in the corner because her date is dancing with that slut Shelly Williamson, and she just wanted this night to be so gosh darn special.

6:01 PM: Hey, somebody filled out a job application and left it over by the heat lamp. Let’s see here… “QUALIFICATIONS: I am nice and can do things quickly.” Oh, wow, bravo, “Dan”, that’s some really poetic shit right there. I think my favorite part is when you played up your ability to do things quickly – that’s some hard-hitting stuff. I think I’m feeling tears. Maybe you should have mentioned how you went to the State Doing Things Championship last year. Or how you got the blue ribbon for being really nice. Jesus, I hope you get hired. If you get hired, I’m going to do this to you every day. Dan Miller, I am going to give you the business on a regular basis, and- Oh, crap, gotta make a milkshake.

6:26 PM: What’s that? You want me to look through the garbage for our reusable plastic burger baskets before I throw it out? Yeah, I don’t see that happening. As I recall, the main reason I got a job was so I wouldn’t have to root through the trash. Give me $12.50 an hour and then we’ll talk.

6:33 PM: Order coming up on the screen… What, this guy wants… He wants a hot fudge banana milkshake, made with hard chocolate ice cream (not Soft-Serv, oh no), and he wants it extra thick? Glory be! It appears that I am now making a milkshake for THE KING OF THE JACKASSES!

6:35 PM: And why the hell would you want an extra thick milkshake, anyway? It’s just going to be that much harder to drink. A milkshake is a beverage, intended to be drank through a straw. If you’ve got such a hard on for thickness, why not just eat a cup full of ice cream and save me the hassle?

6:36 PM: Okay, spooning in the hot fudge now from that giant steaming cauldron in the back – got to be careful that I don’t spill any on my han- FUCK OW

6:38 PM: Jesus, blend, would you? C’mon, how much longer is this going to take? Oh, okay, great, you know what, chocolate ice cream? Just keep on spilling out of the cup like that. I don’t even care. I wanted to scoop more ice cream anyway.

6:44 PM: Oh, what? What!? He’s sending it back? Not thick enough, he says!? Well, maybe he doesn’t understand that a hot fudge banana milkshake can only be so thick! The hot fudge melts the ice cream and the whipped up banana turns into a fluid, hence thinning the milkshake! Take it from me, asshole, science and cooking have conspired to make your dream impossible! So hows about you just drink your damn milkshake before I decide to shit on something you hold dear?

6:45 PM: Woohoo! Break time!

6:55 PM: Well, that’s the end of that.

7:12 PM: What was that thing I saw on Nova a couple weeks ago – it was that thing about that teenager who was a dwarf, but he’d just got his black belt in karate. He was like two feet tall, but he could probably kick my ass. I bet that would be a humbling experience, getting beat up by a guy who’s shorter than some breeds of dog. What they should do is find a really cocky tall guy who can’t fight, and then have the dwarf guy come beat the crap out of him. It’d be like David and Goliath! I’d pay good money to see that.

7:34 PM: Y’know, really, I think a dwarf black belt is a lot more dangerous than a run of the mill, normal-size black belt. See, because even if the normal black belt is really good, the dwarf black belt is two feet tall, so all those kicks are going to be going over his head, and the normal black belt is going to have to crouch to chop the dwarf, and if the dwarf moves fast, well, he’s unstoppable! Even if the tall, cocky guy was a karate master, he’d still be screwed! It’s like playing Oddjob in Goldeneye - you’re such a small target that it’s practically cheating.

7:53 PM: That had better not be “Jack and Diane” coming from the dining room. Oh… Oh, yeah, okay, it is. Seriously, John Tesh? Why are you famous? What gives you the right to subject me to this? I know you were on Entertainment Tonight, but, I mean, c’mon. What have you done for me recently, Tesh?

8:02 PM: Okay, so they’re making me clean out the bathrooms – look on the bright side! Maybe, when I’m cleaning the women’s bathroom, that fox over at table 12 will walk in, and then she’ll lock the door and we’ll make out or something. That would be five flavors of legit.

8:12 PM: Aw, fiddlesticks. Well, maybe it’ll happen tomorrow.

8:39 PM: A pineapple, banana, marshmallow shake? You have got to be kidding. There is no way someone just ordered that.

8:42 PM: Okay, I’ve got the chopped up banana in the bottom, poured in the soft serve on top of that, ladled in two scoops of pineapple, added the milk, and topped it off with a hearty squirt of creamy, gooey marshmallow topping. I’m getting Type 2 Diabetes just looking at this thing. God, the cup is practically overflowing already and I haven’t even tried to blend it all together yet. This is either going to go perfectly, or it’s going to be like Milkshake Hiroshima up in this piece.

8:43 PM: OH SHI-

8:52 PM: Hey, would you look at that, there’s another piece of banana in my hair. And I wonder why I don’t have a girlfriend…

9:02 PM: Wow, what is that? Is that a whole two bucks in the tip jar? My cup runneth over, and not with hot fudge or pineapple this time.

9:15 PM: Okay, 15 minutes ‘till my shift ends. So help me, if a bunch of people come in right before I’m supposed to go home, I will find a way to destroy the universe. It’ll be me and a clone army of black belt dwarves, and everybody else will be running for their lives!

9:19 PM: “Don’t Stop Believin’”, eh, Tesh? Your Journey to Mellencamp ratio still isn’t where it should be, but this is certainly an improvement. Now if you can finish out my shift strong – maybe hit me with some Styx, or some Steely Dan if you’re up for it – you just might have climbed off of my shit list.

9:23 PM: Aaaand you’re playing “The Sweet Escape”. Great stuff, John Tesh, really freakin’ great, tacking some Gwen Stefani on the end of “Don’t Stop Believin’”. Sometime soon, Tesh, there’s going to be a knock on your front door, and when you open it, I’ll be there, and standing just in front of me will be a two foot tall karate master, and then you’re going to get karate chopped right in the balls.

9:28 PM: Come on, come on… Everything’s cleaned, the garbage has been taken out, I’ve swept and mopped, the dishes are done, the Soft-Serv machine is all filled up, there’s plenty of ice in the ice machine, now just let me go before more people come in and want me to make shakes!

9:29 PM: No! No! Don’t come in here, old woman! Don’t you even dare! Go someplace else! Go to Dairy Queen! Go to hell, for that matter! You have no business eating right now! You should be asleep, or watching Matlock! Why did you have to get hungry right before I’m supposed to go home!? You’re going to hobble on up to the cashier and ask in that frail old voice of yours for an extra large hot fudge strawberry banana bacon milkshake with whip cream, and by the time I’ve made that for you there’s going to be 12 more people in here who want shakes, and then I’ll be in this place for another hour until we close!

9:30 PM: Oh. Oh, thank Jesus, all she wants is a vanilla ice cream cone. That’s easy, that doesn’t make any mess… Okay, let’s just do this. One more cone! One cone and you’re out, Truman!

9:31 PM: Going home on time! All riiiight! I’m gonna grab some dinner, check the old email, and then get my Grand Theft Auto on for a few hours until… Wait. Shit, I have to write a blog tonight, don’t I?

Truman Capps probably talks about work too much.