" Welcome to the hot mess express! How are you doing today? Oh wait, before you answer that, My name is Phillip, I will be your server today and, yes, I've been told that I look like Benedict Cumberbatch.
Can I grab you two something to drink? Oh you have a friend in the bathroom? Well can I get you something to drink? BTW that does not mean I want you to order a shake, because I will have to get all sticky making those for you and I've only just met you. You can order a beverage...You know cola, root beer, fruit punch and water? .....Oh SURE you can have lemon-aide. I'll just have to walk all the way to the back and make it from the drive through.....Alright one water and one.....Double Chocolate Fudge milkshake..........
Are you sure you don't just want water?!?"
Hello,
My name is Phillip.I recently put in my two weeks notice at a chain restaurant in Southern Illinois. I choose to call this place "The Hot Mess Express." One would politely say this place is a "hot mess" and a express lane for the drunken college life of Southern Illinois's most beloved University. A wonderful institution in the heart of Rachet-dale, where I made the most of my Education. My true calling, which is not waiting tables as you will notice, is theater. Specifically Musical Theater. I'm an actor-singer-dancer cocktail. I have loads of passions and I'm not too sure where I will end up. As any actor will say.....Its not so simple to measure success in the theater. What is success after all?
Now, this restaurant is such a failure that all I can do is laugh. Partially out of embarrassment and mostly out of pure shock. On any given day you can find a tall, amazon version of Rainbow Brite yelling at a 60-year-old waitress, because we have run out of sodas. You'll have to forgive big Rainbow Brite, she is in here every Saturday. She usually has a coke a puts a shot of Fireball when I look away. Poor old CiCi, the other server, doesn't quite know how to take this and I, being the sweet young man, will do anything to stop her from angry crying. I pull her aside and take over the table. I act really cool about the soda, because I am honestly annoyed. I take care of the group and they are one they're way.
TWO HOURS LATER
Flash forward to Cici and I cleaning the bar rush mess. This includes three piles of puke, one smashed milkshake glass and both of Rainbow Brite's stiletto boots. I am throwing cleaning powder into the vomit, when I notice Cici staring out the window. Its about 4am, pitch black and quiet outside. The image in the window is very stirring. What am I supposed to do? I'm exhausted. There is so much to be done and I don't know if she even wants to be bothered.
"Cici? Are you doing okay?" Then she says it.
"Phillip, get out. I don't care how scared you may be. Get out. This place, this shift. They are a Complete trap. This place is nothing but a punishment for the things we have done. This place is hell. You deserve better."
I was shocked by what she had said. We talked about my two weeks notice. She said she would miss me, but this was just plain chilling. It was different. It meant something to her. What had Cici, the sweet little old lady from Illinois, done to deserve this hell? Maybe she was an assassin. Just saying.
Anyway, I have put my two weeks notice in at the Hot Mess Express and my next destination will be..........New Orleans, LA.
I am nervous excited. Its a new city. With new places. I will have to find a new job and, basically, a new life!?!?
..AND I AM SO READY!!! kind of.
