A bad day
So now I've got this monkey in my head. I don't usually think about monkeys, especially not about one that threw shit at me yesterday. But those eyes, enh. Stephen King eyes. Exorcist eyes. And the icky feeling that it's still watching me.
But I've got work to do. A customer yells at me, pointing at his empty cup, "Hey honey, this coffee's not going to pour itself!" I'd spit at him, but It was hard enough getting this job at Pizza Hut, I'm not going back to McDonalds.
So I pour the coffee, thinking about the zoo and wondering what was up with the monkey. Of course, my hand slips and then I'm splashing hot coffee all over the guy in the checked shirt. "Kind of matches the table cloth" I think as my boss comes running over at the sound of girlish screaming. Him, not me.
After some deft dabbing (I'm ok looking, so I think the guy's enjoying himself) and a complimentary meal, I'm sent off to clean the oven. Ugh. Then to top it off, check-shirt guy with the boner blows me a kiss as he's leaving the restaurant. At least he's not a regular.
Finally the oven's pretty much degreased and I go change to go home. That's when jinglenuts, the manager, yells out to me just as I'm leaving, "That free meal's coming off your paycheck."
Stupid monkey.
