I have been waiting for this moment for ages. Ever since the pizzeria shut down, I haven't really found much refuge in other jobs or services. I tried writing, painting, singing, newspaper boy, waiter, you name it. I wasn't extremely successful. It wasn't entirely my fault most of the time. Either the company had enough staff members or they weren't interested in the awkward bulk standing in front of them. I needed money. I needed company. I needed to socialize. Or at least my therapist said I should.
I've got my bags. I've got everything I need. Luckily the uniforms haven't changed that much so I'll just bring my old ones and get them customized accordingly. I've shaved, washed up and am looking presentable. I look good for someone who's been unemployed for 2 years and lives alone with pets. I need to make a good impression. This place will be like my home for a while so..
I've been standing outside of the doors for 10 minutes now. I'm such a wuss. I'm afraid to go in. I have tried pushing and frogmarching myself towards the entrance but I don't know why I'm so afraid and can't even open the door. Maybe its because it'll bring up old memories of dad.
Maybe people will recognize me but won't like it
Maybe they won't want me back
Maybe...
She's there...
I mean what if-
The door opens.
"Dude, I've been waiting an hour for you to arrive wtf is taking you so long?"
Trystan. One of my good friends.
I wouldn't say best. For reasons that we only hang out when I have a new video game or he has run out of money for weed and needs me to provide. Or when I need to bum a cig.
"Trys!" I look at his arms. He's holding a rather large dog...?
"I see you brought your mother with you this time."
He laughs at my comment and then looks at me like he's about to murder me.
"Adam. My mothers on life support. You know that. You cant make that joke anymore."
"Damn dude sorry. I mean she's looking good for someone who's dying. Except hairier."
I can't help myself. I'm going to hell for this.
"Well it looks like you've had some aging happen too."
"Whats that supposed to mean T?"
"Uh, you look like shit. Not gonna lie."
I gotta say. Trystan's something else. He's also good at looking past the shower and the cologne and seeing the true trash inside of people.
"Anyway why are you here? I thought you were busy shagging some bird down town?"
He laughs. "Well that hen found a better cock so let's say I'm out of financial support. I'm a janitor now."
Trys has never been good with jobs. He looks like a stoner and literally sounds high all the time. He wears clothes from donations to homeless shelters (he has a house he just doesn't want to buy clothes), he smells like dank mold, and he always looks as if he has never heard of cologne or showering.
"Well I'm glad to hear that someone at least gave you a chance. (Won't last long but) you got this."
"TRYSTAN! GET YOUR DRUNK ASS OVER HERE AND HELP ME CLEAN THIS FLOOR!"
There's only one person I know who can scream like that.
"Emma!"
"Adam? What in gods name.... My sweet little Chico come here!"
Emma is an old Venezuelan woman who used to take care of our family. She used to help provide money for us when dad lost his job and she'd take care of me at the pizzeria when I was a kid and when I was a teen after dad died. My siblings used to think she lost her mind while I always thought they lost theirs. Emma provided the joy and appreciation I had for this place. She told all the secrets of the place, spilled all the beans on the staff and always put people in their place.
"My beautiful boy I haven't seen you in ages... ooooh look at how you've GROWN! You look a little sick are you ok?"
"I told ya you look like shit!"
"TRYSTAN. NO TE PAGO QUE DAR INSULTOS! Regresar al trabajo, borracho weirdo."
She looks at me and chuckles. "He's something else, huh? Anyway how's your mama doin? I know the niña wasn't great after your father... but how's she coping eh?"
"Yea I guess she's ok. She's been trying to get back into dating and stuff. We haven't really spoken in a while."
"Yo veo. Well I know you've got work to do and some.... people to see and catch up with but I really wanted to give you something. Here. This golden watch. My papa gave it to my mother and then she gave it to me. You look like you need it more than I do. It'll help you remember when it's 6am. Just like the old days since so many clocks here don't work too well. And its gold like he was. Like you are inside.."
"EMMA, ADAM. I am not paying you to sit around and chat while we've got a reopening tomorrow. Get your shit together and get to work."
Mr Smit. Our boss. Though it has been 2 years, he still hasn't changed. Well he did get louder and more full of cigar smoke.
"I'll see you around Em. Be safe. Oh and send my love to your kids."
"I will try. Buena suerte mi chico cariño. Don't let your mind wonder too far."
