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“Yeah…”
“Yeah. Then you tried to sue the owner for negligence.”
“Um… Yeah…”
“My cousin owned that place. They ended up going out of bu
siness.” Then Lou gestured toward the door. “Good bye,” he said.
That happened a couple more times. Tyler’s reputation preceded him. At two more restaurants and a coffee shop. They knew who he was the minute he walked through the door. He had no idea he was so infamous.
So, he decided to play the odds. He hit every retail store, coffee shop and place to eat within a four mile radius, stopping only to change into some more appropriate job hunting clothes and print out some fresh copies of his resume.
He acted professional and responsible and spoke to everyone who agreed to meet him in a clear and articulate manner, carefully outlining his strengths and assuring them if they gave him a chance they would not be disappointed.
At least that’s what he should have done.
Instead, he wandered aimlessly around town growing more angry and sullen by the minute. He really didn’t want any of those jobs anyway, he told himself. In fact, he hated the restaurant business all together. Always had. It was just the only thing he’d ever known. The only job he’d ever had was working at Cap’s, his daddy’s store. From the time he turned twelve he had been slinging fries and sweeping up.
Even so, someone just oughta give him another job, he told himself. After all, he had plenty of experience. What was their problem? He was the master of the fry station after all. And eight dollars an hour? So what if that was the going rate. He deserved at least twice that. Surely, all those stupid managers and owners knew that.
By the end of the day he had whipped himself into a frenzy of misdirected anger and abdicated responsibility. This was everyone’s fault but his and he knew it. Actually, it was those guys from Monty’s. It was their fault. The situation he was in was all their fault and they were about to feel his wrath. The wrath of Tyler.
Twenty minutes later he was standing at the order window of Monty’s. He muscled his way past two teen boys with identical haircuts and a twenty something Asian girl in a plaid skirt and knee high socks teasing them by suggestively sucking on a blow pop and selectively ignoring them at the same time.
Marco saw him first. “What the hell do you want?”
“I’m gonna have some lunch,” said Tyler, with a grin.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“I think you should go,” said Marco.
“I think I’ll stay,” said Tyler.
“It’s okay,” said Romeo.
Marco shrugged. Romeo put his knife down and wiped the onion juice off his hands. Benny stopped sweeping and looked to Romeo and Marco for a clue. And Tara, with the blonde hair and the blue nose ring asked him what he’d like.
“Ass fries!” yelled Tyler, slapping his hand down on the counter and laughing like this was the funniest thing ever said by anybody, anywhere, at anytime.
Of course, no one else laughed.
Tara jumped, because when he banged on the table she was startled.
Marco said, “What a tool.” Definitely loud enough for everyone to hear.
And Romeo sighed the sigh of a man who knew he was going to have to deal with placating an unreasonable toddler, despite the fact that this toddler was twenty-four years old.
“And give me a sneezesteak! A sneezesteak with frumunda cheese.”
Tara wrinkled her brow. She had no idea what was going on. She had no idea why this guy was acting so crazy. And she had no idea what frumunda cheese was. “What’s…” she started.
But Romeo cut her off. “Don’t even ask,” he said, making his way to the window. Then he addressed Tyler. “Look dude, why don’t you just move along?”
“Hey! I got as much right to eat here as anyone else. You all ordered the same shit at my place. And that guy” he said, pointing to Benny. “Has eaten lunch at Cap’s almost every day this week.”
