so u wake me up on my first day off.
u say "yeah A told me that u might need a wake up call."
"well, yesterday was my last day so i dont know what ur talkin about..."
"well head up here and we'll talk about it"
i show up and stand around staring at u, waiting for u to tell me whats up.
today is saturday, i put my two-week in two fridays ago and u stair at me expecting me to scrub ur filthy dishes.
out of nothing but pity i scrub the piles of pots and pans, but after an hour or two i have shit to do. im not sticking around all night.
of course ur not going to stand for this. of course u are going to attack me and expect me to play cinderella a few more days because everybody else has quit too.
of course i expected this and of course i smile in ur face and say "sorry its gotta end like this. see u next friday for my check."
i punch out over where i originally punched in. tonights on me.
of course when i show up the following friday u run away as soon as u see me. i catch up to u and u look me right in the eye, u kno im here i'll let u be until u find a moment to give me my money.
of course one of the waitresses is the one to tell me
paydays sunday now after i sit patiently for a solid 15 minutes.
see, ur in a bad position, i aint blind. ur wife is a bitch and im sorry. the fact that shes also ur business partner must be straining. the fact that shes pregnant and does nothing but scream obscenities at ur employees and customers cant be fun for u at all.
but expecting me to work this shit job two days more than i need to... thats plain stupid. and no, its not my responsibility to talk to u
a week in advance about not wanting to work these days. its ur responsibility to not pull stupid shit like this and just hope everythings gonna run smooth.
so i show up sunday.
of course my check isnt waiting for me.
of course the wench tells me that i'll have to wait thru the entire dinner rush to receive my money.
of course everything escalates to the point where ur spewing hateful bullshit while im staring down at u with a playful smirk on my face.
i fucked
u over?
i made a pregnant woman scrub dishes saturday?
u say i have no goals because i dont want to do this shit anymore?
my car crash was an act of karma?
u say
im a punk?
im told to wait outside the restaurant for my check. of course i oblige. u step outside, threatening me while shaking a finger, doing a damn good impression of ur wife (she's gonna make a man out of u yet). u try to throw the check at me
) come on man, u cant thro a piece of flat paper, it just doesnt work
)
"ey have a nice night B, i mean it"