Greasy Heart

I turn the radio off, and rest my head against the steering wheel. I have never felt more

stress in my life than the few hours I worked for McDonald’s. It’s a place that consists of too

many people working for medium wage in a hot, swampy grease trap of a kitchen. That have the

manners and social skills of wolverines. I mean, within the first 25 minutes working there, I

thought I was going to see two managers duke it out over who gets to leave first. Within the next

30 minutes, I was trying to learn how to make sandwiches by this high schooler named Rich, but

all he wanted to do the whole time was talk about the fries girl’s ass. Also, I’m pretty sure I’m

being sexual harassed, but to be honest, I was kind of flattered. Nonetheless, I ain’t going back

there.

I feel like that place will make me go crazy if I stay any longer.

Yeah I feel ya’. We should drink some chamomile tea when we get back.

Nah fuck that, we need to hit up the boys and “decompress” this bullshit.

I really doubt we need that at this moment.

What? It would have the same effect as your stupid tea, I mean they’re both herbs,

right?

A jazzy note breaks my trance and I begin to claw at my pockets like a dog who lost his

bone. I manage to get my phone out of my tight high-waters, and check to see if she has texted

me back yet. I haven’t been texting her that much since she ended things, but I try to stay in

contact because you never know what perseverance will get you.

Well apparently, it will get you a text from mom.

Mom: Come home, your uncle Tracy is here.

Damn…was really hoping-

Nope! She ended it man. It’s done. Time to pack up and move on.

Agreed. We should just head home and relax with Atmoshpere in the background. The

time to stress over work is done. Let’s go.

I twist the car keys, and back my car out without looking. I turn the radio back on, and

blast it, not caring if any one of my managers can hear it from inside the McDonald’s. I take a

deep breath, and jet out of the parking lot.

Fuck a McDouble, fuck a McFry, fuck a McManager, and most definitely fuck a

McSalad! I quit and I ain’t never going back to that $8.50 hell hole. Actually, that’s a lie.

I’m going walk in there and chuck my uniform into Angel’s twisted face, tell all the

managers to go fuck themselves, and then grab a handful McNuggets for th-

“How was your first day of work?” My mom asked with her head in the fridge, looking

for drinks for my dad and uncle.

“Oh, it was fine,” I said, walking into my kitchen and taking a second to appreciate the

silence and peace of it all. I tried to relax in the car, but between work and…her. I just can't seem

to find my chill.

You shouldn’t lie to mom. Just tell her how bad the first day was.

“I mean…it wasn’t great,” I sat down in my rickety old chair at the dinner table and

removed my McDonald’s visor.

My mom immediately stopped what she was doing, and rose from the fridge sighing and

squeezing the bridge of her nose. “What did you do this time?”

What the fuck?

Calm down.

She don’t know the fuckery that went down today!

Bruh that’s our mom, calmed down.

Nigga I’m cool. I’m just gonna’ speak my mind real quick.

“I didn’t do anything mom! It’s that place- it’s-it’s-maddening! I walked in there thinking

they were going to teach me how to handle the grill or whatever, but instead they threw me right

into the fray! I mean- This place can make Jesus a bitter man mom!”

“Don’t use the lord’s name in vain boy,” she gives me the say-again stare while exiting

the kitchen with two beers in hand.

That’s all she got out of it?

What you expect? It’s a job at McDonald’s…fun ain’t exactly in the name. Besides it’s

just the first day, and I’m sure-

The jazzy note. This might be the real deal this time!

I practically rip my pocket off getting to my phone, and fumble with my pass code. It finally

goes through, and I scratch and pick at my screen like a prairie dog on speed until I get to my

messages. Finally, my phone catches up with me and I see:

Tommy: Yo nigga how’s working for McDanks ?

I drop my phone on the table, and I think of all the ways I’m going to kill Tommy’s fat

ass.

I exhale today and inhale the better tomorrow. I get out of my chair and stretch. I then

gleefully announce, “Let’s work out!”

Atmosphere’s “The Best Day” bounce off the windows of my Corolla. Procrastinating in

the parking lot of the hell that awaits me at 10 AM. My seat reclined all the way back, I stare into

the out-of-place dark stain on my car’s ceiling and think…I’m out of place too my ebony residue

friend.

Awww. We’re trying to be poetic…BITCH WE GOT WORK!

It’s called a creative outlet you jerk, ever heard of it? However, I do advise we start

making our way to the door.

I groan so loud, I frighten the regulars waddling near my car. I yank my car keys from the

ignition, grab my McVisor, and head for yet another day of grease stains and bickering.

I cross the parking lot without looking and noticed that the drive-thru is not so bad right

now. I smile my only real smile of the day, and walk into the building immediately hearing,

“Heeeyyyy Dooorian!”

“Hey Tisha, how’s the baby?” I respond, trying to sign myself in on the front cashier

monitors.

“You mean Lil’ Dorian, oh he doin’ good!” Tisha bursts, makes me cringe a bit. Her kid

has the same name as mine, and she has not let me forget that ever since we started working

together.

From my peripherals, I can see her gawking at my biceps and biting her lower lip. I ‘d

usually have no problem with a woman (attractive or not) using me as eye candy. I mean 20% of

why I work out is to get women to look at me anyways (the rest is for me). However, Tisha talks

about her Little Dorian a little bit too much, and really hammers in on the point that the boy

needs a father in his life. Which I agree…but that ain’t going be me.

You’re crazy man. That woman is not worried about you.

What about that one time during rush hour she asked me if had a girlfriend?

…yeah that was a little weird.

But your answer was weirder. “Oh, its complicated.” Bitch please, that girl is done

with you and you need to focus on other things.

“DORIAN!” I snap back to reality, and realize I still haven’t signed in. I can hear Angel,

the manager that harassed me about making too much food while not making enough. I can hear

her clopping on the greasy tiles and feel the presence of her crooked eyes beating upon me.

Before, I could turn right, she is already in front me.

This bitch looks like the Crypt Keeper.

>gasp< Sir! That is a woman.

Yeah and she look like the Crypt Keeper. Hey, I’m all for equality, and that’s why

she can get the same “bitch” as any man. Like Tommy’s bitch ass for example.

Its context man. You were just being malicious.

Fuck off bitch.

I smirked, not realizing I just gave the Keeper ammo.

“Something funny pretty boy?” Angel snarled, showing off her dead teeth.

I don’t know what to say. So, I tell her the first thing that comes to my mind, “The fact

that you think I’m pretty,” I nervously laugh.

Her frown loosens transmorphing into a lackluster smile. “Yeah, guess that is pretty

funny,” she examines me one last time and then cackles.

Asshole.

We set her up for it.

Angel pushes me away from the monitor and within three button presses, she signs me in

and slaps me on the back with the strength of Muhammad Tyson Lee.

“Get back there on the grill,” she walks away toward the first window (that gives the

customer the food), “That’s all you’re good for.”

“Thanks,” I say meekly, knowing she doesn’t hear me. Tisha laughs into her tiny black

hands, as I walk away with this great start of the day thinking, “Fuck better tomorrows.”

“IHOP pays 10.25 per hour. Now just imagine that with tips,” my fabulous companion,

Aiden, spouts while trying to gather the ingredients for Rich’s Angus burger with Mac sauce.

“Wow, really,” my well-groomed young table mate, Johnny Love, silently exclaims

flabbergasted because he thought $8.50 an hour wasn’t bad pay, “I would blow it all on clothes.”

“Who you tellin’ man,” Aiden giggled and slapped a big, fat piece of Swiss cheese on the

Angus burger and slid it down to Tisha in the front.

“Hey, didn’t you just get this job,” Rich asked irritated. He was fishing for a Big Mac bun

that got stuck in the toaster.

“Yeah, but this place fucking sucks,” Aiden replies with one hand on his hip and wiping

the sweat off his brow with the base of his palm.

“You ain’t lying there” Maleena, another manager, appears from of out nowhere and

gives Aiden a little heart attack, “By the way, too many of y’all are here, so Aiden and Chandler

you’re out.”

Aiden thanks the lord and gives Maleena a huge hug and frolics out the building.

Maleena, being a “no touch” kind of girl, starts to shake with anger. It makes her locks look like

nappy snakes about to strike. She regains her composure and gives me and my table mates her

infamous icy stare. All of us being the lesser beta males we are, look down at the table and work

like she had a gun to our heads.

“That’s right,” Maleena taps on the table, signifying she is done with us and notices

Chandler is still working. “Chandler! Go home!”

Being the new guy on the fryer and grill, Chandler exhales heavily and cries, “Finally!

God, my dad really fucked me with this job.”

I watch as Chandler bitches and moans out of the store, and it makes me think “Yep, that

pretty much sums up your first day with this job.”

I mean, besides the whole dad part. That’s just Chandler’s daddy issues.

“Umm…aight then,” I said, blindly reaching for lettuce and feeling a weird sensation

against my forearm. “What the-”

“OH SHIT! Dorian I’m so sorry,” Johnny Love cries with fillet skillet in hand.

I look under my forearm and see a fresh hot skillet-sized brand that has not begun to hurt

yet. In fact, it doesn’t hurt at al- okay I feel it now.

SHIT! FUCK! SHIT! FUCK FUCK FUCK! AAAAAH! SONOFABITCH THAT

STINGS! NIGGA IF I GET MY HANDS ON YOU-

“Ah man I’m so sorry! Does it hurt?” Johnny Love asks me looking like an overgrown

child.

“Nah man, I can barely feel it to be honest,” I try to laugh away my pain while slowly

making my way to the ice machine to nurse my burn.

You should really get that checked out.

Nah, it will blister up and become a scar. No big deal. Besides, chicks love scars, and

maybe she’ll like my-

Nope! Back to work. We’d said we needed to distance our self from her bougee ass.

Yeah, maybe.

No maybes man. We need to focus.

Okay yeah, you’re right.

I put the ice on my burn and compare it with the other one I got last week. I make my

way back to Rich and Johnny Love, and they’ve started talking about how Aiden may have been

hitting on Rich earlier today. I really don’t care, and took the position of fryer and griller.

An hour or two go by, and the late-night crew start to take over the kitchen. After Rich

and Johnny left, I was the only one in the kitchen. Maleena was supposed to leave about an hour

ago, but her replacement must have gotten stuck in traffic.

At least that’s what a logical person would think. However, being that Maleena’s

replacement for the night is Angel. She probably thinks Angel might be just across the street at

the 7-11 drinking a Slurpee.

“Every goddamn motherfucking time,” Maleena grits, veins popping out of her neck.

I was looking at her prior to her outburst because to be honest, Maleena is not an ugly

woman with her petite mocha-skinned frame. However, I got caught looking a little bit too long,

and Maleena shot two beautiful daggers at me, saying, “Nigga can I help you?”

I awkwardly twist back towards my grill and cry, “Nah, I’m good! Just working.”

“So wait...how many burgers do I put down?” My new Padawan, Nick, asked, tilting his

head to the right like a dumb puppy.

Biiiitch…I told you three times already. Always throw eight down, but sixteen in

rush hour. How dumb are you, like really bruh? Grab eight patties and throw it on the

grill. That’s it.

He’s going to ask about the angus next. Watch.

“You throw down eight Nick, remember?” I talk to him slowly.

Nick responds with this nasally sound he always does when he thinks he understands

something, but is actually only preparing to ask you another stupid question in a few seconds.

Y’all have no faith within our new protégé. This is his fifth day and you two have been

nothing more but negative to this young man. Don’t you remember how frustrated and lost we

were the first day here.

Yeah, but the second day I learned how to man the grill and fryer. Nick can barely handle

making fries. Hell, he can’t even make cookies. All you have to do is put them in the oven and

press the button, and wait til’ the alarm tells you they’re ready.

Well it was an admirable first try.

The man almost started a kitchen fire…

Yeah but he didn’t.

“Hey, how many angus patties do I throw down?” Nick asked, looking at me but staring

at nothing.

I can't deal with this nigga right now. I’m heading out. Y'all deal with this.

“Hey man don’t worry about the grill right now. I can handle it and the fryer. Why don’t

you just throw some cookies in the oven okay,” I pat him on the back and give a reassuring smile

a dad would give his son, knowing he was going to fail.

“Oh okay,” Nick replies, standing in same spot beside the grill. I stare him down, waiting

for him to leave. He doesn’t.

“Nick, I need those cookies done man,” I try to keep my cool but with this guy, it’s damn

near impossible. He’s like Forrest Gump without the cool shit.

“Oh yeah. Umm…” Nick’s face freezes as if it’s in mid sneeze.

Remember patience.

Nick’s face reverts to its “normal” state, and asks, “How do you do cookies?”

…nigga.

“Okay Nick! Just grab a broom and start sweeping okay? I’ll put the cookies in,” I give

him a firm slap on the arm, fighting the urge not to bitch slap him. “Yo’ Rich. Watch Nick for

me.”

Rich’s head is buried in the table making a salad. He gives a thumb up and continues to

work.

I walk past Laura, the girl with the booty that Rich is infatuated with. I noticed that Rich

has been a lot quieter lately, and thought if anyone knew, it would be her.

“Ayyo’ Laura, what’s up with Rich?”

She doesn’t stop walking and looks back for a brief second to impatiently say, “How

should I know?”

“Aight then,” a little pissed I begin to walk away too, until I look back and get a quick

peek of what Rich has been hyping over the whole summer. He wasn’t lying.

I make my way towards the freezer, and walk past Maleena. She is beyond livid, and is

muttering things like “This bitch gots me fucked up.” I don’t know who pissed her off, but I just

sidestepped her anyway and went on to the back.

I brace myself against the frigid temperature of the freezer, and head for the dessert rack.

I grab twelve cookies, and then dash out of the cold box. I give myself a second to warm up, and

then catch something out of the corner of my eye. To the left of the freezer, on the far end of the

room, there is a door with a window on it. I don’t know what possessed me to look through that

window, but I did, and I saw some sketchy stuff going down.

I am too far from the window to accurately see who is all out there, but judging by the

dreadlocks and zombie looking lady. It is pretty safe to say that Maleena and Angel are having a

“talk”.

Who’s the third person?

I don’t know, but her big ass don’t look too happy.

For real. Oh well, we got cookies to bake.

I tear myself from the scene and put my cookies in the oven. I see a big order of double

cheese burgers being ordered, and run over to the grill. I throw down sixteen patties, and turn

towards the table to help Rich. Thankfully, Laura comes back to the kitchen and takes my place

on the table so I can focus on the grill and fryer. I thank her and fire up all four of the grills. The

heat is smoldering, instantly bursting open my pores, making my limited edition McAngus beef

shirt cling to my chest. I can hear Tisha and a few of the other front counter girls’ thirst miles

away.

I am a minimum wage Adonis.

Haha okay... We still got it. Hey, let’s see if Laura peeping.

You’re such a pig…however, just out curiosity.

I turn my head a bit to the right to creep through my peripherals. I first see, one of the

other counter girls that isn’t Tisha, chatting down a customer who doesn’t understand the

concept that our ice cream machine is broken. Then, me and Tisha’s eyes lock. One would

assume she would avert her gaze, but instead I got a lip bite and a look that said, “I sent Lil’

Dorian away for the weekend”. I give her the look that says, “Well, you better get him back.”

She humphs like a baby, and I continue my ocular scan towards my end goal, until I see Nick

with a broom is his hand. Doing nothing. He’s standing in the center of the customer area, staring

out into one of the large window with his mouth agape as if he just understood how many patties

you throw down.

Hmmm…maybe he has a better view of what was going on out in the parking lot earlier?

Or maybe he farted, and he scared himself.

I make myself laugh, and finally reach my destination. I see Laura’s gorgeous

disproportionate body, and feel a little disappointed, because Laura hasn’t looked up once from

the crafting table, and is currently spazzing out over not getting the buns fast enough from Rich.

Damn…could have used that ego boost.

Who ya’ tellin’…Well at least we can enjoy the view until these burgers cook.

No argument from me ha.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” I hear Angel’s hoarse roar from beyond the front

counter. I can’t see who she is yelling at, but yet I know who she is yelling at. Saying Nick

looked like a deer in the headlights, would be understatement. The Crypt Keeper has Forrest

Gump, and I’m here to enjoy the show.

Ooo…someone bout to get it!

My burgers are still a little pink, so I reluctantly decide to tear my gaze away from

Laura’s assets and focus on the commotion. Besides, I’m almost positive Tisha saw me creeping

away.

So what man? We’re happily single now!

Yeah…yeah, I guess you’re right! Now that I think about it, I haven’t thought about her

all day. Shit. I haven’t thought about her for a few days now.

Six days to be exact. Practically a whole week. We’ve been so busy with our own life, and

work. We pushed away all the little things like video games, social media, and her.

Okay video games are not a little thing man.

Yeah, I kinda’ regret saying that, ummm… oh yeah music. We barely listen to any new

music.

I’ll accept that.

But anyway, I guess my point is that-

“YOU GOT THAT BIG BITCH TO FIGHT ME!”

Daydreaming, I completely forgot about the situation at hand. Somehow, I missed

Maleena getting inside, and running up on Angel. I’m so used to Angel being this kinda’ sinister

looking ghoul lady, that it took me by surprise that her face looks genuinely shocked by

Maleena’s sudden reappearance. To be honest, I can’t blame her either, because what was once a

beautiful, stoic mocha face; is now a bruised purple lumpy face.

“Why are you yelling?” Angel cries, trying to control the situation. Her beady eyes

shifting between Maleena and the audience of customers slowly building around them.

“DON’T PLAY FUCKING DUMB! YOU GOT THAT BIG BITCH TO HIT ME,”

Maleena screams, tears running down her battered face.

Everything is in slow motion, as I move to a position where I see everything and

everyone. First thing I see, is a scared little white girl holding onto her more terrified white

mother. The mom already has her phone out calling the cops. Next, I see a spectrum of emotions

across the front counter girls (including the window girl), ranging from shocked to disgusted to

enthralled. Tisha is the one enthralled. In the kitchen, I can hear the internals screams emitting

from Laura’s tear-rimmed eyes, as veins pop from her slender neck. Rich is looking at her ass.

And Nick, you ask? Poor dumbass Nick is caught between the McFight of the Century.

“Daaaamn,” Tisha shouts, trying to hold back her laughter, “You let your daughter beat

Maleena’s ass?”

Angel breaks her neck to find Tisha, and gives her the most frightening death stare I have

ever seen. Not only did Tisha shut the fuck up and begin to work again. Everybody on the front

counter and kitchen got back to work.

Angel slowly whips her head around to face Maleena, and attempts to put on a vulnerable

face so it could calm Maleena down. However, a vulnerable face to Angel looks like a wolf’s

snarl.

Maleena winces, and begins to lift her right arm to slap that ugly face off Angel’s ugly

head, but then, Maleena must have had a flashback to when Angel’s daughter was whooping her

ass in the parking lot, because pure fear covered her lumpy face. Her body was as stiff as Rich is

next to Laura (real highbrow humor over here), and her lips begin to twitch in an unnatural way.

Maleena then snaps out of her shellshock trance and begins to stomp on the ground like a

toddler. Screaming and cursing nonsense, until she decides to take her road on the show. She

pushes Nick (who stood there like a frog on a log the whole time), and begins her warpath

towards the front counter. She kicks open the door that separates the workers from the

customers, and runs through the front like a possessed woman. Screaming and knocking over

anything that isn’t tied down.

Everyone in the building is bewildered or amused of Maleena’s primal state. She is

throwing McDonald’s bags around like the Tasmanian Devil, and is speaking so fast and

erratically that it really does seem that the Devil has taken control of her.

Tisha and the other front girls run out of the way when she gets near. Laura and Rich are

separated from Maleena’s rampage by the crafting table. They spectate her as if she was Gojira

(Godzilla) wrecking Tokyo again. I’m in complete and utter shock because I knew these two

didn’t like each other, but then, everyone in McDonald’s hates each other. I mean, seeing it

actually come to blows was-

The cookies!

What?

The fucking psycho is going for our cookies!

I just remember about my tray of cookies. Someone must have gotten them out of the

oven for me while I was focused on the grill, because now they lay like innocent sweet dough

virgins on top of the oven. Unknown to them, that their chocolate filled lives will have met their

bitter end.

…Damn nigga. They’re just cookies.

Maleena grabs the still hot tray of hot cookies, and screams a blood-curdling yell that

only seems to make her stronger than ever before. She flings the tray like a shot-put, while a cry

breaks out, making everyone’s focus shift towards it. That cry was me.

“NOOOO!” I shouted, covering my face.

I don’t know why I was so hurt about Maleena tossing the cookies to the ground, but

something just snapped in me. In the few milliseconds between dropping my hands from my face

to my sides, I think up of millions of reasons why those innocent cookies hitting the ground

affected me so much. I think maybe it was because of the time I took to put them in the oven, or

maybe it was because I thought Nick should be feeling this pain because he should have put

those cookies in the oven. However, I think I knew why those cookies were so important to me.

Those cookies were me. They were discarded without an explanation, without a warning. Those

cookies had feelings too, that she didn’t ask about. She just tossed them to the ground broken and

battered, and left him behind with only saying one word…Sorry.

…Whoa. That got heavy.

Who you telling man, jeez.

“Hey Dorian,” I snap back to it, and realize Laura is talking to me with genuine concern

in her eye, “You okay?”

I take a micro breath in and soak everything up. The little white girl is holding onto her

mom petrified. Her red-faced mom yells at Angel for the spectacle that just went down, while

Nick dusts himself off and fumbles with picking up the broom. Tisha and the front girls gossip

and giggle away from Maleena’s rampage. Rich is still surprisingly quiet, now back to working

on the craft table. I hear the back doors of the restaurant swing open, and assume Maleena must

ran out angry and embarrassed.

“Dorian,” Laura repeats herself, more annoyed this time because she doesn’t like to

repeat herself, “You okay?”

I look at her for a sec and think to myself, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Thank the McGods it’s my last day. This has been one of the longest two months of my

life, but it’s finally to an end in five minutes.

I’m on the crafting table with Johnny Love making my last McAngus beef burger. The

late-night crew, Bobby Lee and Ester arrive to relieve me of my duties today while Johnny gets

moved to the grill and fryer.

“Aight buddy, time for ya’ to head out,” Bobby Lee’s twangy voice is music to my ears

as I slap the last white cheese of my McDonald’s career on the sandwich and roll it down to

Tisha.

Whip my McVisor off my head, and sigh with the goofiest smile on my face.

“Damn man you look happy,” Johnny quietly says, patting me on the back.

“Johnny Love my boy, I couldn’t be more happy,” I laugh, and then dap him up and say,

“See ya’ man.”

“See ya’ Dorian,” he replies, then readies up the grill.

“Ummm,” Ester signals for my attention, “We didn’t really work much togetha’, but it

was nice having ya’ around.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you two around,” I said making my way towards the front.

I run into Tisha with both arms extended, “Where my hug at? You thought you were just

gonna’ leave?”

Matter of fact I did Tisha, and I don’t appreciate getting ambushed like this…but I’m

in a good mood. So why not.

I give Tisha a hug, and of course she stretches an inch into a mile. I give her a few

seconds of a hug and then she locks me in like a boa constrictor. I try to wriggle free, but for a

short stocky thang’, she is pretty strong.

She extends her chubby neck and whispers into my ear, “Lil’ Dorian still needs a daddy.”

I lean down towards her and whisper, “Guess that Lil’ nigga better find him.”

I hulk out of her grasp, and laugh my ass off internally. I run into the front girls and get

hugs and say my goodbye. I see Nick still sweeping the same place he was when Maleena and

Angel’s fight went down. He looks up at me with his glossy eyes, smiles and waves.

He probably doesn’t realize it’s my last day, even though when he first got here today I

told him…Idiot. But I guess he’s my idiot.

I wave goodbye to Nick and proceed on my way out the door that separates us from the

customers. I go through and th-

OH FUCK!!!

I see a wide grin filled with black, rotten teeth waiting for me on the other side of the

door.

“Where you goin’ pretty boy,” Angel hissed.

Caught off guard, but ready this time I say, “To see your face one last time gorgeous,” I

smile, stick up both my hands and point them at Angel like little pistols. To add in the finishing

blow, I wink.

Angel senses the sarcasm instantly and snarls. Then reluctantly steps out of my way

because she doesn’t want to stir up any more trouble. She is still getting flak from her boss with

the whole Maleena fiasco, so she has been much more tolerable over the weeks.

I gleefully walk past and exit out the building a free man. The sky has never been clearer,

the birds so pleasant, and the cigarette smells from the ashtrays never smelled so intoxicating. I

breath it all in and head to my car.

“Hey Dorian,” I hear a shout from across the little parking lot. It’s Laura and she’s

jogging over to me.

Don’t even got to do anything even more haha.

I puff out my chest and flex a bit before she makes it over. As she gets closer I say,

“Sup,” oh so smooth like.

She is lightly panting, and rests one of her hands on my shoulder. She catches her breath

and says, “Hey you remember when you asked about Rich and why he was so quiet?”

I deflate, “Yeah, what’s up?”

She begins to laughs and explains, “Well, me and Aiden are like best friends and we text

like all the time right? So, we were texting one night, and he told me about how before he quit

McDonald’s he would text Rich. Now of course you know Aiden is gay, right?”

“What Aiden gay? Who could have seen that,” I smirked.

Laura smiles, “No one likes a smart ass,” She punches me in the arm and continues,

“Well anyway, Aiden use to flirt with Rich all the time, and Rich is straight, so of course Aiden

knew he was barking up the wrong tree. But that didn’t stop Aiden from getting what he really

wanted from Rich. So, he made a Kik account and messaged Rich under a girl’s name. He then

found this hot picture of a girl from the internet and used it as his profile pic.”

Fully intrigued now and kinda’ knowing where the story is going from here I asked, “He

didn’t send a-”

“Dick pic,” Laura cuts me off and we both have a good laugh.

We stop laughing after a few seconds, and I tell her goodbye and that it’s my last day.

She gives me hug goodbye and this time I had to control myself from becoming the boa

constrictor.

She releases first and says goodbye, then walks towards the restaurant. I was tempting to

ask for her number, but then remember overhearing a conversation about her already having a

boyfriend.

Ah fuck it. I’ll just admire the view.

I creep for like five seconds and then make my way to my car. I hop in, and just relax for

a little bit. Staring up into my misplaced stain.

The jazzy notes appear, and reach in my pocket to retrieve it. I unlock it and notice she

texted me today.

I go to answer it, but then realize Tommy and my mom also texted earlier today. I answer

Tommy’s first.

Tommy: Hey bro think you can hook me up with some nuggets lol

I smile and reply.

Dorian: Nah nigga, better get ya fat ass out of your room and get it yourself haha

Next, I answer my mom.

Mom: How’s your last day of work?

I think about what to text her, as I turn my car on and Atmoshpere blasts through my

speakers. I finally decide on:

Dorian: It’s work, but it’s over now

I turn up the radio, and back up without looking. I stare outside my window to get one

last look of this McDonald’s. Roll down my window and flip that fucking building the bird.

Fuck McDonald’s.

I rollout of the parking lot with the music blaring without a care in the world.

Oh, I forgot about her. Ummm… well I did get around texting her back, but I don’t

even remember what I said. All well, must of not been that big of deal.