Saturday, October 1, 2011

A Slippery Slope ©2011 by Joe Sixtop all rights reserved

     I did something tonight I'm pretty sure I've never done before in all my years waiting tables. I accidentally dropped a piece of cutlery into the trash back by the dish hole and instead of at least trying to fish it out, just said, "Fuck it."
     I was pretty busy when it happened and it didn't help that a cook had just gotten all smartass when I asked for something it's his job to provide. I was still a little angry about that. Plus I'd taken a nap between shifts—something I do fairly regularly, usually without ill effects—and awoke with a groggy feeling I couldn't shake; in fact it's still with me even as I'm composing the drivel you see before you now. The fucktarded way they have the trashcans back there is real conducive to letting shit like that slide too.
     You might not believe it, but I've always striven to be a conscientious employee and I kind of surprised myself by how I dealt with that fork. There probably have been times over the years when I've chucked utensils without noticing, although I'm sure it hasn't happened often. There may have been occasions when I noticed I'd tossed a piece of silverware and tried to retrieve it unsuccessfully, but I honestly don't remember that ever happening.
     One good thing about tonight was that my "zone buddy" was my new all-time favorite co-worker Brianna, whose beauty is only surpassed by her kind heart and winning personality. I know that statement must read like sarcasm, even to me, but I assure you it isn't. She and I commiserated as we detailed our stations after we'd been cut. Her day was worse than mine. At least I'd been at a different shitty job in the morning, and gotten a nice break in between. I don't know why I didn't tell her about the squandered utensil. Maybe saying it aloud would make it seem less like an abberation and more like the first step down a slippery slope. If I had of told her, she'd probably have giggled and said, "Don't worry about it Joe. I do that all the time!"
      ANYWAY, one of my tables tonight had used a three dollars-off coupon that you get if you attend a football game at the stadium where I'm a part-time beer vendor (Yo, Beer Man" January, 2011). I was pleasantly surprised that I only had to deal with one of those tonight. When I was getting everything together so I could do a checkout, I had the ticket with that coupon stapled to it on top of my paperwork. A co-worker named Dontrelle walked by and saw the coupon.
     "You got that at the game, didn't ya?" he grinned. He goes to a lot of those games, inclucing the one this past weekend. "Every time I go I scoop up as many of those as I can. I know you get a lot of 'em, walking around there with that big ol' beer tub all day!"
     I guess I'm kind of naive, and I didn't know what he was talking about. "What do ya mean?" I asked.
     "Dude," he replied, "use one of those about once a day on a cash ticket. Don't do it much more than that so the office don't get suspicious. It about pays for that nice-ass cell phone I got!"
     I chuckled a little, said, "Whatever, dude," and bade him goodnight as he walked out the door. Dontrelle doesn't seem like the shady type, but ya never know. He also doesn't seem like the dumb type who'd voluntarily divulge something like that to someone, me, he doesn't know real well. Who knows? Maybe it's a sneaky set-up and Dontrelle is a member of the company's loss prevention team. Or maybe he's just a snitch-bitch on a fishing expedition. But I very seriously doubt either proposition. I know I don't feel so bad about that fork anymore though.

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