FULL DISCLAIMER - I QUIT MY OLD JOB AT CAFE CLUSTERFUCK- AND I ALWAYS WORRIED ABOUT TELLING THE WHOLE STORY - UNTIL NOW.
BELOW IS THE FIRST CHAPTER IN WHAT WILL NO DOUBT BE A BEST-SELLING NOVEL OR AN ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY. HEY BABY - I HAVE TWO EXTRA HOURS ON THE METRA, ALONG WITH A LAPTOP THANKS TO MY NEW GIG - AND MY HEAD IS FILLED WITH SOME STORIES THAT I HAVE BEEN DYING TO TELL - A GIRL CAN DREAM, RIGHT?
BUCKLE UP AND ENJOY THE RIDE.
CHAPTER ONE - WHEN I MET THE FREAKS - or something else along those lines.
My old unit out south - way down yonder past the Kankakee exits - near-about where Moses lost his sandals is in trouble. BIG, BIG TROUBLE.
The place found itself in the crapper thanks to Pinocchio and was recently flushed by Pill-Popping Penny. With my plunger no longer in the game, I hear that Guy Smiley (VP/Bullshitter Extraordinaire) wants to call back Pinocchio to rescue the contract from termination.
Three years ago I was brought aboard to clean the joint up - the place was a pigsty - the manager was clueless - and the unit had been bleeding money for so long, band-aids were no longer an option. My mission was to hire and train new staff that would not only provide satisfactory customer service, but offer edible food as well.
Seems simple enough, right? Not really.
I cleaned house from almost the top on down. No one was safe with the exception of the manager. Word came from Crazy Eyes (Owner/Crack-pot Extraordinaire) that Pinocchio could not be touched. She was far too valuable.
Then I met her.
Did you ever know someone who you looked at and wondered how the hell their shoes got tied every morning. That is exactly what I wondered when I first met Pinocchio.
Pinocchio was the Manager - who didn't know her ass from her elbow. She had a few things going for her - a) she showed up every day b) she made a fantastic cheesecake and c) while I cannot confirm at this juncture, I'm more than quite a bit certain that she is the love child of Crazy Eyes given up for adoption years ago. Really - the love-child angle is the only thing that makes sense in my twisted mind.
Pinocchio spent most days walking around in circles that required her need for a map. GPS would probably get her from Point A to B much quicker, but technology confused the piddle out of Pinocchio.
Not much managing ever got done. Orders were effed up on the reg, the cash drawer rarely balanced, and Pinocchio hadn't the skill to walk and talk at the same time.
Poor Pinocchio. Wop-wop-wop-wop.
Pinocchio wasn't completely hopeless. She could do some things. Pinocchio was a whiz at passing the blame - incredibly clever at inventing excuses - and a pathological liar.
That's the thing that bugged me most - the lying. Over big things - like where three hundred Lincolns from the deposit went to the smallest of things - like who was passing out free smoothie coupons and more importantly - where the flip could I find them.
Her answers to the big questions and the small were identical - a clueless shrug accompanied by the dead-behind-the-eye stare. Every single time. Every blasted time.
Come back tomorrow for Chapter 2 - and meet Cookie.
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