Part One

Parte Uno:

In the beginning, I will admit, I feared the grease flying from the fryers, my hair smelling like hamburgers, and most of all, the customers. I had heard horror stories about people throwing chicken sandwiches right back at employees, and the last thing I wanted (or do want) is to be wiping mayonnaise from my roots. But I've been trained, did my time in orientation. I watched those three hours of cheesy videos with Heather, and now I was ready for work.

Hesitantly I put on the uniform. I knew I had to, but honestly, the two things that make me look just unappetizing are a baseball cap to cover my thick wild hair and black polyester flare pants. (Igual tiro pinta?) But I wear it proudly, because work is the perfect distraction. And I get paid for it.

Call me Masta C :

I am the cone queen, and it only took me a couple days to perfect it. Along with my dessert status, I already have a couple good stories to tell, cue the highlight reel. I haven't gotten many rude customers, I've only seen one man sit on a high chair like a baby and throw a fit. So I'd like to write about a day like no other, a day when there was love at first sight, in polyester pants and a baseball cap. I'm just kidding guys. Nothing that wild has happened, although I did have a day where love was in the air. But it wasn't my love.

I arrived feeling like a poop.

I know that isn't even an expression, but I felt low. I didn't want to be anywhere at all, I hadn't eaten in days. But I was in work mode, taking orders, cleaning trays, and making cones of course. I saw that there was only one family sitting in the lobby, and a little boy came up and began to play peek a boo with me. After only a couple of minutes, he confessed he was going to marry me someday. I couldn't help but smile. I continued to play until he had to go, and I thought about how much I wanted that. Not to marry him obviously, but how much I wanted to have a little mini me, to play with all day.

Has anyone ever told you you just have the most beautiful smile? Unfortunately this was no little boy, but an old man trying to hit on me. I told him thank you, as I went over to wash trays. I could feel his creepy eyes on my back and waited patiently until he left, avoiding eye contact by looking up at the ceiling. My day was yet to be over with, and the customers continued to come in to order burgers that weigh more than me and to ask for more chicken nuggets than I have ever eaten in my whole life.

I can help whoever is ready,

I called out. A couple boys who were my age made it over to the counter. As one counted out his money, I looked at his arms. He had big needle marks, so big that I couldn't take my eyes off of them. They made me sad, and as he rattled off his order, I tried not to stare. About an hour after they left, he ran back in. Handed me a handwritten note, signed with hearts and an email address on the back of an expired movie ticket.  He said I had a beautiful smile, and that he knew it was cliché, but come on girl let us be together (in cursive). My managers were standing beside me, and they laughed, telling me there were much better things than marriage and boys.

The only reason I got this job was for a boy. To make it all the way across the sea to visit him. But now I need a new reason, a reason to want to stay at fast food heaven, a reason to work as much as I can. I'm unsure of what that reason will be, half of me wants to just throw in the towel, placing it in the dirty towel bucket that I have to change. But the other half of me is a little excited to see the adventures I have, the people I will meet, and the weight I will gain in French fries and pancakes.