If you've worked fast food long enough, you've probably known this guy or someone like him. He's none too clean and smells somewhere between bad and funny. You're not exactly sure what the smell is, whether it's his colostomy bag, that nasty infected wound, or if he's just pissed himself. You can't stand him and wish he'd stop coming by, but you treat him with just enough courtesy that he keeps coming back. The rumor among the employees is that he's incredibly wealthy but is just plain crazy so lives in his car anyway. Yeah, you know the guy.
The one where I worked was nicknamed "Boom-Boom". Apparently he acquired that name because everyone said he'd blown off both of his feet making homemade dynamite in his basement, which is supposed to explain why he walked funny. And, so they say, he was married to the freaky lady with the K-car full of stuffed animals and Beanie Babies. But, of course, no one ever knew for sure, since who's going to actually ask the scary people?
And while I'm on the topic, did anyone else have that cranky old guy that would show up minutes after you opened and order just a coffee, then sit there, reading the paper and smoking? He never seemed to actually like us or the restaurant, but he kept coming back. We finally got rid of him once the store went smoke-free, but I think he was replaced by another cranky old guy that was pretty much the same, sans cigarette.
Anyway, I quit fast food after nine months. I was hoping to get a better job elsewhere in town, but never actually did until after college. I'm still not sure how I got through my senior year with no spending money, but apparently I did.
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