Unpredictable, My Normal

Chapter 1: It Began In A Pizza Shop

   So, here I was. All my life choices had led to this moment. A vegan in a pizza shop.
   "Why?" You may ask. I ran into some not so great people, made some not so great decisions, and "accidentally" ended up with some "borrowed" goods. These goods just so happened to be different edible foods that took forever to go bad and were usually some type or animal byproduct.
   Which currently, Jerry was skimping on for whoever had ordered the pizza he was making.
   I gave him a light cuff to the head. "Jerry, quit messing around. This isn't a make your own masterpiece or whatever that thing is. It's a pizza parlor."
   He winced, and focused his eyes on the task at hand. "Right. Sorry, boss."
   I sighed. "Whatever, Jerry."
   I turned on my heel and went to the front.
I checked to make sure no one was in the process of ordering before walking over to our behind-the-counter guy, Susan.
   "Hey, Sue. How are things?" I ask. "Please tell me it's not something I don't want to know about." The pleading look on my face said it all.
    By the way, I apologize for being under immense stress and being a total jerk all the time. (I'm going to come off that way a lot.)
   "Everything's great, boss."
   "Kay, glad to hear it. Keep up the good work."
   I turned and went through the kitchen again to my small office in the back.
Before going in, I turned the sign on the door to "Go Away... I'm Busy." Then, I went in and sat down.
   Well, I missed at first, but don't judge. Ironically, my life is literally killing me. Chances are you've never been threatened with being framed by "previous employers" for stealing 100,000 crates of food. Of all the things, it was food. Food I can't even eat. If it were, things wouldn't be a problem. And chances are, even if this had happened to you, people would have noticed your sudden obsession with owning a pizza place, despite having no past interest in it whatsoever. But, my parents are in Timbuktu and I don't have friends. I only have Mike. Speaking of Mike, he should have been here 10 min-
   The door slammed open and closed behind my bulky right hand man. "Hey, boss lady. I got news for ya!"
   I dragged my head off the desk and slumped up in my chair. "What...?"
   "I started opening the next crates. You gotta see this."
   So, I figured "why not?" And next thing I knew we were bumping our way down the highway -and a couple back roads- in the company delivery truck.
   "BOOM," Mike said, throwing open the garage door on the warehouse we were renting. He took on a radio announcer's voice. "Our next special is... da da da jerky and ketchup pizza with a side of Twinkies."
   "Oh... yum."
   "I honestly don't know how you picked out this food, boss."
   I fixed him with a glare that dared him to question me again. "I... I told you I ordered in bulk, Mike. Now shut up and bring the truck around. Migh's well start hauling the crates over."
   "Sounds good, ma'am," he said, as I turned to grab the crates.
   "How respectful of you, Mike," I reply, hoisting them up. "Now put away your middle finger before I turn around. I might have to fire you."
   "Uh... sounds good. I'll just get the truck then." And with that, he was off like a shot.
I chuckled. "Alright."
   As promised, he brought the truck around and soon we were bouncing our way back to the pizzeria.
   "Excited to get back, Mike?" I laugh. He rolls his eyes, but keeps quiet.
   We arrive pretty quick and I pay Sue, Jerry, and the various others and they skedaddle.
Just a half hour til closing time. We shouldn't have too many others.
   "What about me, boss lady?" Mike is back to his usual annoying self, I see. "Gonna pay me and send me on my way?"
   I smirk. "You wish. You're my right hand, Mike. I need your help."
   "If I was your right hand, wouldn't I be touching-"
   "No," I quickly counter. "You'd be slapping yourself. And besides, you shouldn't be complaining about the work. I think you still oughta work off that stunt you pulled. Then, you'll get your pay."
   He groaned, but didn't say anything else.
Just then, we heard the door chime and quickly shuffled out of the kitchen to the front as a guy walked up.
   "Hello, sir," I greet him politely. "How may I help you?"
   "I'll have a medium pizza... please."
   "Sure, sure," I say, taking down the order.
   "What kind?" Mike asks, ever so helpfully.
   "Surprise me."
   Mike and I exchange a knowing smile. It'll be pretty easy to surprise him at a pizza place like ours.
   "Coming right up, sir." I rip the sheet off my note pad and slap it to Mike's chest.
   "Also," the guy adds. "I'd like to know about the job."
   "The job?" I ask, my brows knitting in confusion.
   "What job?" Mike pokes his head out of the kitchen.
   The customer nods toward the paper in the window. "I meant the job here, ma'am."
   "Dang, I forgot to tear down that thing a month ago. We got all the hands we need."
   I can hear Mike laughing from the kitchen. Dirty little bas-
   "I could really use the job," the guy pleads, bringing me out of the fantasy world where I am currently strangling my closest friend. I look at him and see him brushing his hair out of his eyes and finally looking up at me from under his beanie.
   "I... Uh..."
   Puppy eyes. He has freaking beady little puppy eyes. Grrr.
   I can already tell Mike's spying on us and laughing. I've never been at a loss for words in my life.
   "Well... we could use another guy at the front. We only have one, I mean Sue."
   "I would kinda prefer to work at the back, Mrs..."
   "It's just Tee. I'm not married or any of that stuff."
   "I'm guessing that Tee stands for something?"
   "Trouble. Now, I think I can arrange for you to work sometimes in the back, sometimes in the front, but I'd prefer both."
   He thinks it over for a couple moments. "Sounds good, Tee."
   "It's a typical 9-5. Typical forms, too." I slide him a job applicant and he immediately begins to look them over.
   "You say typical a lot," he says, without looking up.
   I train my gaze on him as I think of something to say. "I'm extraordinary and I expect the world, and my employees, to keep up."
   He pauses, flips the paper. "I understand."
   "I guess that about sums it up, then. You can turn in the forms tomorrow and start working when you'd like."
   "Bright and early." He looks like he's also ready to remind me of something, but I already know what it is.
   Mike pops into the room, holding the pizza.
"Medium. Hot and ready to eat," he announces, before almost tripping and falling.
   I grab his shirt collar in one hand and the pizza in the other. I refuse to get bad reviews. I slide the pizza across the counter to the customer and he pays up and walks out to his car.
   We watch as his appreciative smile turns into a cringe when he opens the box.
   "What kind did you give him?" I ask Mike, remembering that he hadn't ordered anything specific.
   Mike doesn't turn from the window and neither do I, as we watch the scene unfold.
   "Isn't it obvious?" He throws me his signature grin. "He'll be the first to try our newest pizza."