The Temporary Virginity of the American Player

20. I Can't Win.

I feel like it takes a lot of skill for someone to be fired from McDonalds on their first day. Not just fired either, but banned from ever entering the premises again, including the Ronald McDonald PlayPlace. I had set to shame the friendliest fast-food joint in the world and had scarred many young children enjoying Happy Meals for life by exhibiting such an act of violence.

Not only had I been fired, banned, and arrested in less than twenty-four hours of my new (or should I say old?) job, but I also had some serious paying up to do. It seemed that the big fight had resulted in the breaking of the following:  two potted ferns, a plastic Happy Meal toy advertisement, a caution sign, two tip jars, the headpiece of a cash register, a glass window from the PlayPlace, a ceramic statuette of Ronald McDonald, and had also resulted in the discomfort of those who had witnessed the brawl. Most of them hadn’t exactly been shy about registering complaints with the manager, not that it would have kept me from being canned anyway.

You might think one’s pride would be dented after starting a fist-fight in a Mickey D’s. However, I wasn’t the slightest bit regretful of my actions. That jackass had it coming. Although I was sitting in a jail cell at eleven o’clock at night, having been incarcerated for hours now, I had obviously won the fight. I only lost my job. At least I wasn’t alone, though. Johnny and Lane had gotten arrested too.

According to security, they were disturbing the peace just as much as I had been  but that was a little hard to believe. I mean, they’d fought too, but I’d done the most damage. I mean, the police had told me I’d broken Travis’s nose during the fight. That was OK; his face had practically broken my knuckles, and he had broken Lena’s heart, so it wasn’t like I felt bad about the whole thing. Fair was fair, after all.  I, for one, was happy that Lena’s trashy ex would have to walk around with a swollen black and blue nose for the next six weeks; he deserved much more than what I had given him.  Part of me hoped I would catch him harassing Lena again; that way I could beat him up once more.

“I’m dead,” Lane groaned from his bench, head in his hands. “She’s going to kill me.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Kill you? I think she’d probably kiss you. She hates that S.O.B.”

“The last time I got in a fight with Travis, she was so pissed off. She accused me of egging him on. Maybe I did, but he made me so mad I couldn’t not hit him. Anyway, she’s not going to like this. She’s going to have to post bail anyway, and that’s not exactly cheap. I just hope she doesn’t break my X-Box…again.”

I pursed my lips, wondering if I was going to be in hot water with Lena too. Nah…why would I be? I mean, she didn’t even like the guy. A few nights ago I’d been comforting her because of the big jerk.

“Christy’s not going to be happy, either,” Johnny said, leaning against the wall with a sigh. Two wads of toilet paper stuck out from his nostrils and an ugly black bruise was beginning to form over his right eye from a nasty punch. “I’m so in the doghouse. I hope she’s not too mad. She never did like me fighting.”

They both looked at me, waiting for me to confess my worry.

“Um…well, I hope Joe gets my voicemail and comes to bail me out.”

That seemed to be good enough for the two of them. They were probably hoping the girls would do the same for them. We’d all made our phone-calls over a half hour ago and, so far, no one had showed up to bail us out. I didn’t exactly want to stay here overnight, so that blockhead had better come get me. Joe wasn’t exactly reliable, but he was the only one who would bail me out besides Lena. If he didn’t come, I’d have to pay her back; that is, if she even agreed to do it. If not, I’d have to pray Christy had a few bucks in the bottom of her purse.