The Shift Of Brando

Intro

Ladies and gentlemen, the moment has come. Like Frank Herbert once said, "there is no real ending, it's just the place where you stop telling the story."

Unfortunately it is time for this story that began when I was barely a young man looking to make money so he could make it rain on his bitches, to end. Now as I finally reach an age when drinking is no longer perceived as cool because you can now buy it legally, I find that life is more than just booty and crystal meth.

It's also about dank memes.

It took some time, but I can finally now see clearly. And thank god, because you cannot imagine how many accidents I almost got myself into just to get home to write this stupid intro. It's not like anybody is going to read this intro or this journal anyways.

As I enter a more mature part of my life, it's only fitting that I bury my childish humor once and for all, along with the corpse of the stripper that I just kil...

Anyways moving on too more positive, alive things, this journal perfectly describes the culmination of a dream that my parents had in store for me as we crossed the border.

I still remember the story that my dad would tell about my birth. He told me that as he first carried me in his arms, he said, "Oh god, you'll be a great cashier and cook in some shitty restaurant in America when you grow up."

Fortunately for us, that vision he had of me came true. Unfortunately for us, the vision of Uncle Hagrid had of me becoming a wizard hasn't exactly come true, yet.

I can't tell you exactly how many hours I worked, how many tips I made, or how many shifts I covered because I just can't. No seriously, corporate won't allow us to see our pay stubs.

Before I start shedding tears because of my crippling depression and the fact that as I'm writing this, I realize that my life peaked in high school, I just hope you all enjoy this. Y'all better like enjoy because I swear to god if I hear that y'all don't like this journal, I will commit suicide and blame y'all in my suicide note. Good luck in jail, jerks!

Last but not least, I sincerely hope you guys like this journal. All the stories presented here are a tribute to my fellow coworkers and the daily bullshit we all have go through to make ends meet. Thank you and no animals were harmed in the making of this journal.

P.S. I really do need to get a cleaning cloth for my glasses. I knew it was a bad idea keep my glasses on as that sweaty stripper sat on top of me....