A short distance from Unalco’s world headquarters, six burgers sizzled on the grill at Burger Empire. The cook, 21-year-old Caroline Friday, could care less if they sizzled away to complete brown and black grease. It would not bother her if her life did the same too. Of course she realized that today she was in a rather despondent mood. 1989 had not turned out the way she wanted and next year--and maybe the entire new decade--promised more of the same disappointment.
It was early in the afternoon. A holiday song--Baby It’s Cold Outside, cackled over the dining area speakers in a sad effort to shovel seasonal spirit into this greasy spoon. The song gave her a headache. Additionally, the constant jingling of the decorative bells on the entrance doors to Burger Empire, opening and closing all morning and afternoon, grated on her nerves.
Caroline was pissed. In a laughable incident ten minutes ago, she had been lectured by her boss, Pete Gardner, about her lack of “team enthusiasm” and willingness to work toward the coveted Employee of the Month recognition plaque he had hammered up on the wall back in October. She was told that she was nothing at all like November’s winner, Demarco Cropley, a smart black teen who was on his way to Carnegie Mellon University next year. Good for him. She liked Demarco. Still, she had no qualms about her lack of ambition for Employee of the Month--especially at this two bit restaurant. Old Pete, however, took umbrage with her piss poor attitude.
Pete told her that Demarco came from a poor family and worked his tail off while Caroline came from a relatively well-to-do upbringing and slacked her way through her job and treated it as if she were too good for it. He was right. She was too good for it.
Gardner also said she was never thinking about what she should be doing at the moment. He was right about that too. Then again, neither did Pete focus on his work either. The man paid more attention to the curves of his waitresses than the quality of food those waitresses served.
Caroline Friday, the young, tattooed, grungy white chick--replete with rogue strands of purple in her otherwise dark brunette, shoulder length locks--had started her job at the Burger Empire only a week ago. She arrived with two things: a bad attitude and a desperate need for a job that could carry her through Christmas.
Caroline was two years out of high school, broke, had no savings, and was about a universe away from celebration and honor on Pete’s much ballyhooed Employee of The Fucking Month board.
The laughable employee inducement, which was proudly displayed in the shitty break room hallway next to a clip board of schedules and the time clock, still featured Demarco Cropley’s beaming, ear-to-ear, smile. They wanted to give it to him again this month, but apparently he had called off too many times lately. So much for Mr. November’s loyalty in December.
As she stood over the grill lost in thought, she caught herself in a grease and grime streaked mirror to the side of the grill. She walked over to it and took a depressing look at herself. She had looked better.
Her wooden bead necklaces felt heavy. Her nose ring felt oily. The white apron she wore, after they told her she had to “man the grill”--a phrase that agitated the emerging feminist in her to no end, was stained beyond recognition.
Caroline Friday reminded herself that she only wanted a couple of things from this job: earn enough money to save up for a beater automobile so that she could get around town more easily and out of it when she needed to. She also wanted to afford an apartment of her own and move out from home. That could be counted as some kind of progress. However, since she had two fender benders in her father’s car (the first one was not bad, but the second was a lot worse) her father told to save up her own money and get a car for herself. Then, he smugly told her, she could plow her own car into trees all by herself--and on her own dollar.
As much as she loved her Dad, he treated her like a little kid. Hell, she turned 21 a month ago. What do I need a car for anyway? I have nowhere to go.
Ouch! Hot grease splattered Caroline. “Sonuvabitch,” She snapped, banging the spatula against the grill. Now she was even more pissed.
She had not agreed to flip burgers when she took this job. Her job was to simply to work the cash register but it was now evident she had being shanghaied into joining the kitchen freak show because Mr. November quit without notice. Could you blame him? Still, a part of her wanted to make this job work.
This was her first gig she took on her own accord, she told herself. As a matter of pride, she had to make it work too since she declined her dad’s desire to take a cushy hostess position at the family restaurant in the North Hills of Pittsburgh. She was fast beginning to regret that decision.
Fridellio’s Pizzeria and Italian Eatery was opening two restaurants in the Pittsburgh area and her dad told her another one was slated to open in Cranberry, a growing town north of Pittsburgh.
That was all well and good, but she wanted to show her dad that she could make it on her own and she certainly didn’t want to stand around like a bimbo in a tight skirt and halter top flashing her boobs at old men. Still, the more broke she became the more she thought about the options her father gave her and what the hell, she looked pretty darn good in a halter top. College was another one of those options, but she had scoffed at the notion. Nonetheless, her father thought that....
“You are burning the fuck out of my burgers Caroline!” barked the franchise owner of Burger Empire, the balding obese and slovenly, Pete Gardner. The man had appeared in the front archway like a troll under a filthy bridge. He was right. The burgers were nearly burnt down to nothing now.
Black smoke meandered its way to the air filter. He picked his bulbous nose with a fat finger as he loomed over her and let loose a torrent of obscenities about the condition of his burgers.
He was so gross. Yellow teeth. Comb over dark hair. Psoriasis that sprouted out from his undershirt. About a hundred pounds overweight and all of it proudly drooping down from the open stained crease of his gigantic paunch. The man paraded around with a fly that was often half zipped because he was lazy or it didn’t work or he perhaps he just liked it open. Pete never shaved and always smelled like cheap booze and missed showers. The creep kept all sort of Playboy magazines in the back break room too. How gross is it that I must work for this disgusting man.
“My fucking customers are hungry!”
Caroline frowned. “You should say, ‘My customers are fucking hungry’.... Not ‘My fucking customers’ if you had any respect for them at all Pete.” Caroline smacked the spatula hard on the cooking surface. The burgers sizzled and began to smell a little well done.
“Just cook my burgers bitch.”
She snapped at Mr. Gardner. “Another word like that out of you and you’ll be flipping your own fucking burgers from here on out.”
Pete’s face reddened and he waved his arms wildly. “You know. That’s why I hate hiring you bitches. Fucking attitudes. I gave you a chance to man the grill and what the fuck do you do with that chance? You piss it away.”
He loomed over her and continued yelling at her. However, if Pete had been trying to intimidate her with his bullying, it had the opposite effect.
“No. You did not go there!” Caroline exploded. “You want some fucking hamburgers? Here are you’re god-damned burgers.”
Caroline scooped up a row of burgers and promptly flipped them into a mop bucket of dirty water that had been hanging around since yesterday. The dirty mop water splashed up and hit Pete Gardner’s face.
Pete Gardner’s eyes blazed with anger. Caroline smiled triumphantly and then quickly ducked out of her stained apron. She balled up the filthy thing and then chest passed it to a shocked Pete Gardner.
Pete caught the apron on his face and wiped his eyes. “This is not how you become Employee of the Month,” he hollered.
“Fuck you and fuck the Employee of the Month. I quit!”
She stomped toward the kitchen swing doors with her head lowered. Pete, momentarily caught off guard, stepped aside. Surprise spread across his face. Caroline did not look at Pete as she stormed by him, through the kitchen, and exited to the dining area.
She felt the eyes of gaping customers as they followed her across the restaurant dining area. She proceeded straight to the door and opened it. The holiday bells rang and Caroline Friday stepped outside of Burger Empire for the last time that cold December afternoon.
A frigid Pittsburgh wind punished her face and whipped her hair about in wild movements. She glowered. The rare Pittsburgh sunshine had poked out from behind the clouds, but it was bitterly cold. Caroline’s hair whipped in the blustery wind and she folded her arms tightly around her body to keep warm in her flannel shirt.
For a brief moment the sun reflected brightly off a shining metal and glass building a mile or so away. Ah, the Unalco World Headquarters. She squinted at the modern building. It was about a mile away geographically, but a million miles from Burger Empire. It stood like a tower above the mostly dilapidated buildings of Pittsburgh’s old and tired North Side. Must be nice to work somewhere like that place.
The sound of a pneumatic bus door opening and the black exhaling of diesel exhaust caught her attention. Ah, it was the bus back to the North Hills. The bus back to Fridellio’s Pizzeria. The bus back to starting over.
She hustled down the street and managed to catch the bus. She counted out her last change and dropped it down the coin machine. She wondered where this bus ride would ultimately take her.
The laconic bus driver paid her no attention. The bus was empty. She sat down in the very back seat and put her black boots up on the seat in front of her. A song played. She sighed. It was Baby It’s Cold Outside.
Approximate Scene Location - Pittsburgh's north side
The inspiration for this scene is Pittsburgh's North Shore neighborhood. If you happen to visit, there is some really cool stuff down there. Not really emphasized in the scene, but the area is home a very eclectic neighborhood known as the Mexican War Streets.