The following night I was behind the counter at the Hillside Burger King during an extreme lull, staring at the purple Formica wall across from me. Okay, so my life of success and prosperity was going to have to wait a little while. Right now I still had a debt to pay back. Right now I was still a minimum-wage grunt.
This job was another part of my deal with my parents. Aside from the required GA meetings, they had agreed to let me take a part-time job even though football season was still on. In fact, they had insisted on it. I would use any meager remuneration I received to start paying back the money I had taken out of my bank account, and I would work here until it was all paid back or until college started, whichever came first. Suffice it to say, I was taking as many extra shifts as possible to truncate my sentence.
The door opened and in walked Ian and Winter. I stood up a little straighter and smiled. Thank God. Someone to talk to other than Boris, my corpulent manager, and Carlos, the skittish fifteen-year-old who compared everything that happened in his life to another scene out of Star Wars.
“Yo, burger boy. Get me a Whopper with cheese and a chocolate milkshake,” Ian said loudly, slapping his hand down on the counter.
“Ha ha,” I said, leaning over to give Winter a quick kiss.
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Ian asked.
“Sorry,” Winter said. “I tried to talk him out of coming, but he wanted to see you in your uniform.”
“That’s okay. I can tolerate him as long as he brought you,” I said, giving her another kiss.
“Where’s my burger, beyotch?” Ian asked.
I squelched the urge to smack him upside the head and instead put his order in. “I need a Whopper with cheese,” I said into the microphone. Behind me in the kitchen, Carlos got to work putting the burger together. I grabbed a cup and placed it under the shake machine’s spout. The mechanism whirred to life with a groan as if it hadn’t been used in decades.
“What are you doing here anyway, man?” I asked Ian as I handed over his shake. “It’s Friday.”
“Oh, yeah! The Friday night game,” Winter said, wide-eyed. “What gives?”
“Yeah, well, I suspended that crap,” Ian said. He took a long pull on his straw and placed the cup down on the counter. “A couple of the guys came by the house tonight, but I rebuffed them. They were a little miffed, but I think it’s time to move on, don’t you?”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“Well, call me paranoid, but I don’t really want to be responsible for the downfall of any more of my friends,” he said. “I mean, look at you, man. That hat alone is a travesty.
I stood up straight. “Come on,” I said, spreading my arms wide and executing a little turn. “You don’t like my look?”
Ian shuddered comically and I smirked.
“Actually, I’m a big proponent of the hat,” Winter stated. “I love a man in uniform.”
“Yeah, you do,” I said, leaning toward her again.
“Okay. You guys are gonna make me barf up this shake before I even get to the burger,” Ian said.
“Well, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean for you to have to cancel the whole game,” I told him. “If it’s me you’re worried about, don’t be. I don’t plan to relapse any time soon.”
“Or ever,” Winter said firmly.
“That’s what I meant,” I replied, blushing.
“It’s not just about you, man. I mean, Texas Hold ’Em was a novelty, but it’s over. I sense the imminent demise of that particular trend,” Ian said.
“Do you?” I asked with a smirk.
“Yeah. It’s proliferated to the point where it’s not cool anymore,” Ian said.
“And we all know you have to be on the cutting edge of cool,” I said, playing along.
“Exactly,” Ian said, leaning his elbows on the counter.
“So what’s next?” Winter asked. “You going to open a strip club or something?”
Ian raised his eyebrows as if considering this idea. “Nah. Too messy. Too many permits involved,” he said. “I’m gonna do something much more radical.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I asked.
“I’ve decided to put my latent math abilities to use for good instead of evil,” Ian said. He stood up and squared his shoulders, prepping for a serious announcement. “Kids, I’m joining the math team.”
Winter and I looked at each other, stunned into silence for exactly one second before we cracked up laughing.
“What?” Ian cried. “I think I can still salvage their season! Come on, Mike! What? You’re the only one who can be a joiner?”
And just like that, Ian—who had saved me so many times before—saved me once again. This time from an evening of complete Burger King boredom.
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NEXT WEEK: You're all done!
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