Senoj Chronicles: One

“This shit is ridiculous!”

I let the plate of food drop to the ground, the food scattering, glass sprinkling all over the sticky tiled floor. The lady with the attitude is looking at me, all types of disgust on her pinched face. I can tell she wants to call for the manager but is intimidated by my presence. She should be after what she just did. She’s a vile bitch, just really disgusting.

All the commotion brings out my manager, and I can tell I’m going to get fired from yet another job by the look on his face. I rip off my name badge.

“Senoj, what’s the meaning of this?” Mr. Francis asks, staring between the ashen lady in the booth and me.

I stab a finger her way, “She spat in the food and told me my service was worthless if I can’t get a simple order right—”

“Get out!” He’s red in the face, sweat is gathering on his wrinkled forehead.

I am taken aback although I saw this coming. “Excuse me?”

“Senoj, go. You’ve caused too many problems. I wanted to believe you, but you’re all shambles. Go.”

I don’t say a word. There’s nothing to say because he’s right. I’m a fucking disgrace, no doubt, but that doesn’t make disrespecting a veteran right. I pick up the breakfast sandwich off the ground and dump it in the lady’s lap. She looks horrified. I laugh as I walk out of the Waffle House. Who actually gets fired from a Waffle House? I’m jobless. Once again. My eleventh job in a row.

This is a record for me. I only worked there for three days! Maybe I’ll try the circus next since everyone thinks I’m a joke.