The Breakfast Club

Anxiety, Crying and Hepatitis

It was the first Monday after the debate. Wafflehouse walked into the restaurant and twisted his body to stretch; he yawned and clocked in. He hated that his job started early. He would have to wake up two hours before he even needed to leave to get fully waken up. When he does arrive at work, sometimes he isn't even fully awake. But, it beats third shift. Wafflehouse wouldn't be totally opposed to working that shift. But, he feels that he is sleeping the day away if he works third shift. So, his preference is first. Wafflehouse wouldn't even consider working second shift, second shift in general is just shitty.

He continued his morning routine. He wiped the tables down, washed his hands, nothing really new. Wafflehouse would serve the occasional customer and continue his work day. Typically, the days are pretty slow, besides the window of booming business they recieve. The restuarant doesn't lack in business, the business just has certain points in the day where more people come. But, compared to other restuarants, Wafflehouse doesn't have half the business other restuarants have, like Mc.Donald's. Overall, the restaurant stays afloat, they earn enough money to keep going.

Today seemed odd to Wafflehouse. They were receiving more business than usual. The window of good business became prolonged. More and more people came in. He noticed more diverse people sitting down at the restaurant. Normally, Wafflehouse would have to serve truckers, old people and the occasional family. Which isn't a bad thing, the fresh faces were a sight for sore eyes.

This motivated Wafflehouse for his shift. He tried his best to adjust and go to all the tables. For the most part he did good. The new business was a nice change but it was stressful at times. Wafflehouse enjoyed the challenge and clocked out at the end of his shift.

On his way home he thought about the work day. He tapped the steering wheel to the soft music playing in the background. "Why was there more business today?" He mumbled to himself. He tried to think of an anwser but nothing came to mind. The question still remained but it was cut short when his thoughts were interrupted by a song he enjoyed. Though he let the thought slip at the time, the question still lingered in the back of his mind.

As the week progressed, business was not failing to grow. As the business grew, Wafflehouse's stress levels did as well. His shift was the busiest and it was only getting more busy as time progressed. The sudden spike in customers required Wafflehouse to work faster and deal with more people. The fact that the staff is low as it is, it meant that Wafflehouse would have to work twice the amount along with the stress he feels now. This seemed to be a way to test Wafflehouse's patience. The more people, the more work, he was still required to treat the customers with the upmost respect even if they were jerks.

His breaks became shorter throughout the week. Wafflehouse didn't really have time to calm down and relax during the work day. It was only Wednesday and the stress was really getting to him. It was around noon and binuess was the busiest it had been all week. Wafflehouse was sprinting around the restuarant making sure people were getting their orders in a timely manner.

A woman walked in, she looked around. But, to her dismay, all the tables were taken. "Excuse me." She tapped Wafflehouse on the shoulder as he was taking another table's order. He turned around and saw her  " There is no where to sit." Wafflehouse looked around at everyone, she was right, all tables and seats were taken.

"Ah, sorry. I'm sure there will be a table empty in the next twenty minutes or so." He tried to stay as polite as he could. He was trying to rush the conversation so he could get back to taking the orders of table he was currently at.

"That's so ridiculous. It should not be that long to do. I need a table soon." She walked over and leaned against the wall. Wafflehouse apologized to the table he was at. He took their orders and rushed to the cook. It was around ten minutes later when the lady approached him again. This time, he was trying to take drinks to a table. She stepped in front of him and placed a hand on her hip "I've been waiting twenty minutes and I haven't been seated yet."