The Temporary Virginity of the American Player

19. I Think I Might Be Fired.

Out of all the jobs to call me for an interview, it would be McDonald’s. Why wouldn’t it be? I mean, a good auto-repair job was too much to ask for. There were just too many janitors nowadays for local businesses, weren’t there? God forbid there was another cashier at Target. I didn’t think my application for McDonalds would actually be reviewed, and I definitely didn’t expect to be hired after a dumb interview, which I'd pretty much bullshitted my way through. Would YOU be enthusiastic about working at America's number one obesity joint? It was a job, and I HAD applied, but it'd been more or less as a last resort. Regardless, I was hired after a very short and superficial interview, and there was no getting out of it. I mean, I hadn’t gotten any interview opportunities for any other job I had put in for. The hours were flexible with my schooling. The only thing I had to worry about was dying from obesity in this place. I figured with everything that was going on, I needed to be busy with something. I just didn’t think McDonalds would turn out to be my savior.

And it wasn’t even close.

It had been two days since my talk with Lena on the beach. Two days since I got the phone call asking for an interview and twenty-four hours since I was officially hired at Mickey D's.

Johnny hadn't come back in those two days...or called. Joe and I hadn't called him either, though we had thought about it a time or two. The jerk had better come back soon though. I was starting to miss him.

Back to my first day at work, I was stuck manning the cash-register, posted next to an old geezer woman named Hilda Nickel and some cocky jerk named Benny Schlueter, who was sixteen going on four. I was trained for the register for about two seconds before they left me alone to fend for myself; bless Hilda’s heart, the geezer helped me out with the job and the humiliation of looking like a clown. I didn’t understand how the woman could even function, she was so old. I was “child” and “sweetie” to this lady. It was like working with my grandmother, and that wouldn’t end well for anyone. Luckily she had the patience to deal with my small brain, although Benny scoffed in the corner covering the milkshakes for about the first hour.

I’m not trying to sound like a badass, but I was a natural with the register. I mean, I made that machine my bitch within two hours of my training. I was quick with it and a pro in no time at all, and being the people-person that I was, my line seemed to be longer than that doorknob Benny’s and was more populated with good-looking women, even though it was my first day. I was, in the eyes of the public, a McDonalds God.

Everything was going swell. As a matter of fact, things were going so swell, I knew something bad was going to happen. And I was right.

Who better to walk through the door, hand in hand I might add, than Johnny and Christy.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I muttered, turning around casually to face the milkshake machine.

“Nick,” Johnny asked from the other side of the counter. I grimaced, but stuck on a smile and turned around.

“Welcome to McDonalds,” I said a little too sweetly. “What can I get you guys?”

“What are you doing here? I didn’t even know you worked here.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t,” I said. “Maybe because you left. I just got hired yesterday; I applied, like, ten places and this was the only callback I had, so I took it.”

“Nick Nolte has a job,” he asked, a distinct and familiar glimmer in his eye. “Unbelievable.”

“Shut-up,” I said flatly, looking down. “What do you guys want?”

“Um…I just want the double cheeseburger…you know what, just take the nose off man. I can’t even look at you with a straight face right now. Babe, what do you want?”