Radio Head

 

(She just keeps talking to herself.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 7 p.m., and I had yet another case of the Waffle-House yips. I was scheduled to work with Toothless Bunny all by myself, and the thought of it made me sick to my stomach. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got nothing against Bunny, but she’s a hardcore Waffle Girl. So all the cleaning has to be done perfectly. Needless to say, it’s a real fucking drag.

I got to the restaurant at 9 p.m. and clocked in for my shift. That’s when I heard that Bunny had been fired. Instead, the new grill operator was a woman named Radio Head. That’s not her actual name. I call her that because she constantly talks to herself. Something has obviously happened to the transistors in her brain.

The manager was in his office.

He said, “Jack, I looked at your most recent tickets. They look damn good. Thanks for heeding my instructions.”

I nodded and smiled. “No problem. You’re the boss.”

I soon noticed that he had set up a red and green board. All the good tickets were in the green section. And the red section was devoted to the deadbeats. Well, you can guess whose tickets were pinned up on the loser’s side. That’s right. Your humble protagonist.

However, I simply kept my mouth shut. I’m still new to the game, and there is definitely a learning curve. He’s giving me forty hours a week, so why rock the boat?

I looked at the manager. “I can hit the dish pit and get them out of the way.”

He shook his head. “I tell you what. I need you to sweep until 2^nd shift clears the tables.”

And that’s what I did. I got all the hashbrowns and used napkins off the floor, making the place look presentable. And let me tell you motherfuckers something. Even though I’m a peasant, I take pride in my work.

The manager was behind the counter, and he suddenly looked at Radio Head. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

Yet she was too busy chattering away to even notice his question.

I said, “She sorta has her own style.”

He shrugged his shoulders and went home.

As soon as he left the building, we were suddenly swamped with customers. I mean, there was barely a seat left in the entire restaurant. And I was the only server on duty. It was a real cocksucker. In fact, I was so busy that some of the customers left because they didn’t want to wait.

But here’s the kicker. Even though I’m a crap waiter, I always get tipped pretty well. I made over fifty bucks in less than 90 minutes. Why these people keep giving me their money is beyond my reasoning. Perhaps they feel sorry for me.

I ended up making 220 dollars for a ten-hour shift. And the place was completely dead between 2 a.m. till 5 a.m. I’m starting to get used to the lifestyle. It’s like being a kid again. Plus Rice-Boy Larry is now on Medicaid…which is a huge load off my back.

At 7 a.m., I drove to a nearby gas station and bought a vape machine. Its flavor is blueberry mixed with watermelon. And it tastes fantastic. It cost me twenty bucks.

My one big worry in life is getting enough sleep. So now I’m mixing Tylenol PM with Jack Daniel’s and Coke. It’s probably not a wise choice, but I need my shuteye.

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