Working with Dope Fiends

 

(Nurse Ken loves Orange Donald.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 4 p.m. and felt a little queasy. I had the Waffle-House yips. I knew I’d be working with Toothless Bunny, and the very thought of it filled me with trepidation. Don’t get me wrong. I like Bunny. It’s just that she’s a serious young woman. And I’m not a huge fan of her over-the-top cleaning methods.

I walked into the kitchen for coffee, and Nurse Ken was sitting at the counter.

He said, “Trump is going to start sending American inmates to prisons in El Salvador. Isn’t that great?”

Ken is a huge fan of Orange Donald. He thinks that Trump can walk on water.

I sneered at him. “You really think the Supreme Court is gonna let him do that? Those criminals are citizens of the United States.”

“No, they aren’t. They’re slaves. That’s why we’re allowed to make them do forced labor.”

“Slavery is illegal, son.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Where do you get all this stuff? Do you pull it from your ass?”

“It’s in the Constitution.”

“Bullshit.”

That’s when he showed me the 13^th Amendment. And do you assholes want to know something? The kid has a point. Slavery has been abolished except for the case of certain inmates who can legally be forced to work as punishment. So maybe you can send the motherfuckers to El Salvador. What do I know? I’m simply a lowly Waffle Boy.

I changed the subject. “Where’s your brother?”

“He’s still sleeping.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Larry’s behavior is starting to worry me. These days, he wakes up at eight p.m. and sits on the computer for fourteen hours. I need to teach him how to drive so that he can get out of the house from time to time.

Moving to America hasn’t been easy for either one of us. In fact, it’s been downright challenging. But we both have to start adapting to our new surroundings before we become mentally ill. I’m not kidding you. We’re like a couple of fish flopping around on the floor. It’s not healthy.

I got to the Waffle House at nine p.m. and entered through the back door. I immediately saw Dwayne the Dwarf and waved at him.

I said, “Are you on grill tonight?”

“Yup.”

“What happened to Bunny?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. But she’s not coming in.”

My heart leapt with joy. And the good news didn’t stop there. I’d also be working with Jamaal the dope fiend. I knew that both of them would be stoned out of their minds by eleven p.m. because of their deep passion for Mary Jane. Trust me. Being a Waffle-House coolie isn’t a walk in the park. But it’s even worse if your supervisor is a clean freak. I’ll take any stoner any day of the week.

An old dude walked into the store and sat in my section. He was as skinny as a stick and carrying a backpack. You should have seen his face. It was gray and gaunt and wrinkled. The angel of death was definitely hovering over this poor bastard.

I placed some silverware in front of him. “Can I get you something to drink?”

He chuckled. “I don’t have no money. I’m just trying to rest my feet for an hour or two.”

The restaurant was empty, so I didn’t put up a fight.

He suddenly exclaimed, “I had a great day! It don’t matter if I’m broke.”

I nodded. “That’s good.”

“Some asshole keeps vandalizing my RV. But the cops came and put him in jail. They charged him with elder abuse.”

“Wow. That’s a serious felony. He’ll have to do some time if he gets convicted.”

“Good. Serves him right, the son of a bitch.”

The geezer sat there for my entire shift. Not one single motherfucker came to pick him up. So I fed him bacon and chili on the house. I also gave him a few cups of coffee with whipped cream on the top.

I’m going to start treating my children better.

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