Ah, to have just moved into your dorm...

And to have to immediately start cleaning because it's not so much the mold and the smell that bothers you, but the cock roaches.

Ah, to have just moved into your dorm...

And to have the first thing you do that evening be proclaim you and your orientation group pirates and run around the school with waterguns demanding cigarettees, alcohol, money, and condoms (affectionately termed "booty").

Ah, to have just moved into your dorm...

And be half drunk and singing "We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn, burn motherfucker, BURN" at 5am with 50 of your new friends in the courtyard, when you realize you have to go register in about three hours.

Ah...college.

Please let her go.
You had two good years.
You made her happier than anyone could.
But you don't do that anymore; you haven't for a while.
And you still won't let her be happy with anyone else.
You held her so tight that she grew into you, like a rose bush wrapping itself around rusty barbed wire.
Now she can't let go.
And when I reach for the petals, my hand comes back scratched and bloodied.
She has her own thorns, she doesn't need your metal tines.
But she can't let go, and no one can pull her away.

Tales from the BK #9

Today at the BK, we once again sold horrifying and abnormal food to our "guests". For one thing, we ran out of buns for both Whoppers and regular burgers, and some crew members had to go out to some truck in the back or something to get new ones. Well, these new buns were soggy and had expanded, probably from the moisture in the air the recent South Jersey hurricanes have been providing. These "elephant man" buns looked silly beneath the tiny size burgers, sort of like the burgers a child of the 80's would remember in an old "Where's the Beef?" commercial. Furthermore, we were using clearly expired tomatoes on the burgers we prepared. They were mushy and gross, and one of them had some black mold growing on it. Did this dissuade the disaffected Burger King youth from serving this shit? No. And yet I got yelled at for trying to open a big pack of sauce with my teeth because the manager felt it was unsanitary.

A few entries back, I mentioned this Dr. Seuss character looking woman who was inspecting the BK and yelling at everyone. Well, someone decided to write, in the girls' bathroom, that this woman (I forget her name) is a fucktard. Apparently, I am the only one on crew who knew what a fucktard was, so when one of the managers asked me what it meant and I began to define it, she was all,

"Yeah, I thought so. Now go into the bathroom and scrub off that graffiti you wrote."

I began arguing with her over this, and she said she knew I did it because she compared my handwriting on a sketch I had done the other day with the graffiti, and it matched up. This is bullshit because, first of all, I had that particular sketch in my pocket and, second of all, my handwriting is in all capital letters, wheras that on the bathroom stall was tiny and had all those loopy feminine affectations you see women use in their a's and e's. Finally, she decided to give me the benefit of the doubt, but I'm still pissed off that she didn't apologize to me.

I also learned today that the dude who yelled at me for assembling a burger with the grill markings upside down isn't even a manager. He's just some asshole who works there just like me, but I guess he likes to fantasize about having a managerial position by bossing others around.