 |
| https://www.pinterest.com/pin/343399540323675631/ |
My junior year came and went. The
spring of my senior year was here and I realized I was going to
college and I needed to make some money. Soon. I looked around for
jobs. I only had one non-Burger King prospect.
My theater teacher Ms. Youree was
disappointed that I would not be doing any plays that spring. But
she totally understood the need to make money. She told me she could
get me a job at a funeral home. She did makeup on corpses at Wise
Funeral home. There was a janitorial position available with my name
on it. It paid minimum wage (yep, they valued that position) but I
would only occasionally help move cadavers. I thanked her for her
kind offer but declined.
I went back to Burger King. I hated
that place but needed the money. They had a new general manager
there. She told me that her predecessor spoke highly of me. She had
hoped I would have returned much sooner. I was back baby, and making
the same pay as I made before. Nobody was there from a when I had
previously donned the purple uniforms. Turnover was high in that
business. Especially with the youth on our night shift. I would say
the average person stayed on for two paychecks. If not less. The
most stable members of my time there those four or five months were
my first manager Richard, my second manager Vera, Mindy, Gabby and
myself. The other positions were seriously plug 'n play. Like I
said, the pay was bad and the work was definitely not glamorous.
I have seen many architectural wonders
in my life. Of historical as well as aesthetic significance. Man can
create uncanny things when given time and tools. I believe I have
seen an achievement in structural integrity in the bathroom of Bonham
Burger King. You see, the single urinal was directly in front of the
door to the facilities. It went all the way to the floor. Well, a
customer reported to somebody that something in the bathroom was
nasty. Real nasty. Everybody took a look. We all wanted to bear
witness to what monstrosity awaited the poor bastard who had to clean
it up.
Wow.
This was amazing.
There was a turd in the urinal standing
straight up. This chestnut colored eight inch fissured hunk of human
waste was no leaning tower of Pisa. This was a proud and mighty
scale model of the Washington Monument, baby. The dark colored
obelisk clashed beautifully with the white porcelain receptacle that
encased it. It was glamorous. It was disgusting.
I remember after a high school football
game one day. A few friends and myself went to Taco Bell late one
evening. We were having fun and somehow I thought it appropriate to
bring up our little friend in the urinal. The funniest thing about
this relic was imagining how it got there. I reenacted many of the
possible scenarios right there in the dining room of Taco Bell. The
punch line always being the reaction of the culprit has he been
caught.
Scenario 1: Direct Deposit
The suspect does number two directly in
the urinal. Directly in front of the door. If open wide, the whole
world (or at least patrons of our fine establishment) could see right
in as our hero has a tail crouched over. Does he wave hello to his
witnesses? Does he hurriedly pull up his pants and end up with a,
ahem, smear up his back? Does the turd just land perfectly in the
urinal and stand on its own? Or does the perp have to use his hands
and assist in the erection of his monument to unhygienic
possibilities?
Scenario 2: Speedy Delivery
This one seems more probable...and more
disgusting. Our mystery man goes number 2 in the stall like a red
blooded American. He checks to see if the coast is clear. Cue the
theme from Mission: Impossible. Carefully and swiftly he removes the
loot from the toilet water exits the swinging stall door and adeptly
transplants the undigested food vertically into the lovely ivory
tower. If caught by some poor customer wanting only to relieve
himself, what does he do? Claim, “I'm just a good citizen cleaning
up somebody else's mess!”
Does he throw the evidence at the
witness hoping to cause enough confusion to make a clean getaway?
Does he start a fight hoping the scrum
will bring in more people so he can claim authoritatively, “He did
it!”
There were many other possible
scenarios and possibilities. We made for a loud group of diners.
Definitely not appropriate dinner discussion material. Especially if
you were a fellow diner in a different group.
Taco Bell had an ad campaign that was
running around this time. They had their famous chihuahua on TV. One
of his spots featured him wearing a beret like revolutionary Che
Guevara. He tried out a new catch phrase, “Hasta la vista
Whopper.” I had a friend that worked at Taco Bell and managed to
get her to give me one of her buttons that read “Hasta la vista
Whopper”. I wore this button on my Burger King hat for a few weeks
before management figured out what it meant. It amused me that such
a common phrase proved to be a mystery to the powers that be. Good
fun.
I didn't remember who the poor
son-of-a-bitch charged with cleaning up that public display of
unsanitary craftsmanship in our bathroom was. I do remember it was a new
guy who not only refused, but clocked out and quit. I don't blame
the guy. Eventually it got cleaned up as mysteriously as it got
there.
Mindy was a girl a year or so older
than me. She had quit school when she got pregnant a few years before.
I knew her because her mom was friends with my mom at the American
Legion. Mindy was the first woman I proposed to. We were messing
around out of boredom. I grabbed an onion ring and got down to one
knee. She said yes. I guess it's been a 17 year engagement. It's
never been called off.
One Sunday before work I was asked to
pick Mindy up from her house. I obliged. I got there and she left
the house. I saw her two-year-old pressed up against the glass door
looking sad as she left and headed my way. I said teasingly to
Mindy, “Awe, your boy is so sad you are leaving.” She said
without missing a beat, “Not really. He's mad he has to go to
church with my grandma.” I laughed. That was the funniest thing I
had heard in a while.
Mindy lived with her grandma. Her mom
wasn't really the responsible mom type. A few years later Mindy
would go to prison for assault or attempted murder or something.
She'd be locked up for years. That poor baby would be raised by his
great-grandmother.
Richard was our manager during the
first portion of my second tour of duty at Burger King. He was soft
on us. About as care free as my previous supervisor years before,
but with different results. Perhaps because we had a more mature
crew? Or maybe because he tried to be more of a leader than just a
boss. He did more work that was less desirable. He participated in
janitorial duties, drive thru work and even slinging patties in the
back.
Richard did have this snake tattoo on
his forearm. What was remarkable about this tattoo was its odd
resemblance to a caveman club. He must have given himself the tattoo
because it looked like something my five-year-old drew in a dimly lit
room during an earthquake. Richard was a good guy though. He was as
obsessed with Pearl Jam as I was with the Smashing Pumpkins.
Particularly the songs Yellow Ledbetter, Black and Elderly Lady
Behind the Counter in a Small Town. Who could blame him though? At
the time, wow. Such intensely brilliant compositions.
One night after work the four of us,
Mindy, Gabby, Richard, and myself went to Gabby's house to watch some
movie. I have no idea what the movie was. This was the only time we
did this. Apparently Richard and Gabby were an item. I had no
idea. I'm an emotional idiot and pretty much blind. It was a good
time though as Richard and Gabby contributed to the delinquency of a
minor. Free alcohol! What's not to love for an 18-year-old?
Gabby, Richard and I were working one
weeknight when she started crying. I asked her what was wrong. She
said she was in severe abdominal pain and needed to go to the
hospital, but there was no way she'd be able to drive. I agreed to take her to the ER. I told Richard we were heading out. He was now
the only person in the store to take orders, make orders, and hand
out orders. He had to man the dining room and drive thru. This was
not an ideal situation for him.
I took Gabby to the ER. She told me
that Richard needed me and I should leave. I told her I wouldn't
abandon her. I was there for her. She squealed, “Richard sure
dodged a bullet this time!” She knew she was having a miscarriage.
I was really getting uncomfortable. I stayed with her until the
doctor arrived. She answered questions about bowel movements and
sexual activity. At that point I said “Goodbye” and headed out.
I didn't know her well enough and wanted no part of what was going
on.
I made it back to Burger King and it
was slow. I told Richard that it looked like she had miscarried. He
feigned shock and sorrow but I'm certain it was relief.
Sometime later I noticed Richard hadn't
been to work. When they replaced him with a lady named Vera I
finally asked what happened. They didn't know. He didn't show up to
work. He never called, didn't answer. Was not home. They replaced
the locks on the doors at great expense. We had a new leader on my
crew.
Vera was okay as an employee but not as
a manager. One of her duties was inventory. Keeping track of what we
had and putting in orders for what we needed. One time we ran out of
hamburger buns for our whoppers. She sent me to Walmart with petty
cash to buy up all their large buns with sesame seeds. Instead of
driving, I decided to walk across the field to the neighboring
super-center. Not thinking about recent rains, this was a horrible
decision. I ended up knee deep in mud and it was a struggle not to
lose my shoe. I made it to the Walmart. Here was an asshole covered
in mud in a purple Burger King uniform buying up all the hamburger
buns. And I still had several hours left in my shift. Good time.
I drew the short straw again when we
ran out of french fries. We. Ran. Out. Of. French Fries. Thanks
Vera. Paris, Texas was the nearest Burger King chain that had fries
to spare and was part of the Kostel, Inc. ownership group. I hopped
in my new car. I no longer drove Whore House Red. Now my wheels
were a 1986 Chrysler Lebaron. All 84 horse power. Paris was 35 miles
away. An hour and a half round trip. I didn't get paid mileage or
gas money. I never even thought to ask for reimbursement. This was
work without work though. About a days worth of french fries in the
trunk of my car and I headed back to work. Seriously. Burger King
ran out of french fries.
By the time Vera arrived on the scene,
I was opening the store on Sundays. Only two people, the manager and
an employee are there for the first hour, hour and a half. I showed
up at 5:30 am and waited for Vera. And waited. And waited. I did
not know her phone number. I did not have keys. I didn't have
anybody's phone number. This was a problem. She eventually showed
up and apologized. She was frantic and slept through her alarm. It
was just before 6AM and we had to get the grill, fryers, ovens and
warmers turned on. The dining room tables needed to be cleared of
chairs. Food needed to be prepped. Thank God customers didn't show
up for half an hour. This never happened before. “Get your crap
together Vera,” I thought.
Vera and I closed the store one
weeknight when she showed questionable judgment. We closed
weeknights at 11PM. Somebody pulled up at like 10:59:50PM and the
drive thru speakers ringed. She immediately hit outside lot lights,
the menu lights, etc... cue the sound of a car horn and tires
squealing. I told Vera to her face that that was a dick move. She
frowned and said, “I know,” with genuine regret and
embarrassment.
Richard eventually turned up again
weeks after Vera's hiring. I asked him what the hell happened? He
said he did some drugs and woke up in Indiana with no money or
clothes. He checked himself into rehab and had just gotten out. He
was there to pick up his last check and to see if there were any
chance he could have a job. Even as a regular employee. That bridge
was burned and I never saw him again.
There was this girl I didn't really
know but went to school with. She worked at BK but on a different
shift. Our shifts overlapped on Saturdays, we chatted occasionally.
I told her that I only had about a week before I was retiring and
heading off to college. She asked what I was studying. I told her I
was going to work in television. I was studying broadcasting. She
looked me in the eyes and said calmly and confidently , “You'll
never make it.” Not in my life did anybody ever dismiss me like
that. My dreams. My future. Not in my life had anybody told me I
would fail. This girl who didn't really know me decided she would try
and piss on my dream. I was angry. But I also didn't really place
any value in her opinion. She held no domain in my need for
affirmation. I was fairly certain my future was brighter than hers.
I felt I would have more success than her. Whatever success means.
I am not a big time director or producer but I've made it. I am
happy with where I am. In the end I hope she is happy too. I hope
she left her cynicism. And negativity years ago.
After my last day of work, the general
manager and morning manager called me into the office. They sat out
of view of the surveillance camera and had me sit between them and
the camera. They told me I was a great kid and employee. They wish
the could do more but this was all they could do. They gave me $80
from petty cash and wished me luck, they considered this a
scholarship and I thanked them. These ladies were amazing. As much
as I hated the place and job, some of the people there were amazing.
I genuinely appreciate them. Goodbye Burger King, hello Texas A&M
University at Commerce!
###
###
 |
| Learning something that would come in handy for many years to come. 1983 |
If I had to pick one song to be the soundtrack to this post it would be...
Comments
Post a Comment