Meathead and Loser

Beef

We didn't have a Beef Babies in Oklahoma. But we had our own brands of fast food places. The closest thing I could compare BB to was probably a strip club. People came for the scantily clad women, and stayed for food that was sure to give them a heart attack. I didn't care that BB was that kind of establishment. They were hiring, and I needed a job.

"Hello, welcome to Beef Babies. How may I help you," a female cashier person asked me as I walked into the Pink and Blue building.

"I'm here for an interview," I answered while I checked out her name tag.

Paula, that was her name. I bet she thought I was looking at her tits. I definitely checked out her tits. Anyone who worked in the front end of that joint might as well have been topless. I guess I was still into women after all.

"You're Tommy?" She asked.

"People call me Tom," I answered.

Beef Babies wasn't a breakfast place, so there were hardly any people around aside from employees.

"Rick is in his office. If you can wait a few minutes," Paula told me.

"Sure, yeah," I said, fixing the tie I improperly tied around my neck.

I took a seat at a table and tried to prepare myself. My dad was a hard ass, but he never made me get a job. Maybe he thought I was too stupid to keep one. Regardless, I emulated what I thought he would be like in my situation. Charismatic, optimistic, direct. Yeah, dad was always that way at the dealership, but never at home.

He stopped calling me. My dad, he gave up like I knew he would. What surprised me more was the lack of calls I got from other people. My brothers hadn't called since they went off to school, but not even my friends from high school texted. Did they not care, or had I distanced myself too far for them to remember me?

Being away from Nick made it easy to remember how alone we were. I missed him.

"So why do you want to join the Beef Baby family," Rick, the manager, asked as he came to sit across from me at the table.

"This is one of the fastest-growing food chains anywhere, and I want to be a part of it," I answered.

Rick must have been in his late 40s, but he was built like a lineman. The glare on his face was damn near enough to intimidate me out of my seat.

"But why?" He asked.

I tried to think of a clever response but went with something generic like, "To serve customers and make people happy."

It wasn't in my nature to bullshit so hard, but I had to for me and Nick.

"Come on, kid, let's get real," he said, finally giving me a slight grin.

His teeth were yellow and chipped. If he wanted honesty, I was willing to shift gears.

"Ok, I need to make money so I can take care of my..." I stumbled before I could mention Nick.

"Your what," Rick asked.

I was too stupid to think of a workaround.

"My partner," I said.

I might as well have said "boyfriend."

He didn't ask any other questions. Rick started going through a bunch of paperwork he brought with him to the table.

"No drugs and no drinking on the job. You'll be cooking on Monday, Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday, but we might call you in for more," Rick said without looking at me.

It took me a moment to process enough to ask, "Wait, so I have the job?"