There was finally something to work for. I was trying not to think of it as a carrot on a stick after the whole incident with people buying severely underdeveloped salads. Once I managed to get a hold of a phone from Charlie, I could close up shop and take a nice long vacation. I probably needed to find somewhere to live, too. I decided to take a gander at my food stores.
Food Storage
Beef (9)
Onion (1)
It was my first day on the job and I could only make half the menu items. I decided to quickly update the menu offerings. I replaced the entry for “Rabbit Food” with a recipe for onion beef. The recipe was still basic. It only required cooked beef and sautéed onion. I decided to name this replacement recipe “Spicy Carnivore Taco”. I didn’t have any spices, and it didn’t involve any further ingredients, but the next person to confuse me with Daves and Davids was gonna have a—you know—of a time on their hands.
Since I was going to be cooking more beef, I needed to actually clean the grill. The process led me to tidy up the rest of the kitchen, though it barely qualified. I was fortunate enough to suffer no customers before everything was back in the proper place. The sleek chrome of the countertop was polished. The grill was cleaned. Everything in the whole damn place was dusted. My reverie was interrupted by the stupid bell.
Bing!
“The Purgatory do you want?” I asked.
A woman who seemed a little older than my earlier visitors stared at me in actual horror. She carried a small handbag but wore baggy navy sweats with a sweatshirt. Apparently, she didn’t approve of my inspired replacement as much as I did. That was her problem, of course.
“I said, the Purgatory do you want?”
“Young man, did you just replace the name of the bad place with the unfortunate location we’re stuck inside?”
“Sure did. You want anything to eat?”
She wanted me to be ashamed and such feelings were her prerogative. I wanted her out of my face, but I wasn’t allowed to push it, due to the nature of customer service. Inequity all around. I wasn’t giving that feathery bastard any excuse. I was on my best behavior. When her disgust did not push me, she gave up, instead taking a look at the menu.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“What’s a carnivore taco?” the woman asked.
“A taco for carnivores. What name should I put on your order?”
“Maureen.”
Of course, this was Maureen. I should have known from the unveiled moral objections. I let her watch the menu for another thirty seconds. I considered it letting the lemming run to the cliff. Finally, I forced her off the hook for my own sanity, good branding be damned.
“It’s cooked ground beef. The other option is two Charlies extra and comes with sautéed onions diced into the beef.”
Maureen looked back up at me. For a moment, I thought she was going to order. She severely disappointed me and said, “You should really put the prices on the menu.”
“They are on the menu, right next to the menu item.”
“There are only two things on the menu, but the lettering is so tiny.”
I made a dramatic gesture of checking my watch. “Oh, boy. Maureen. It’s getting to be about that time I close up shop until tomorrow. Lots of prep to do. Whatcha got?”
“I really like onions. They have all the layers and they cook up nice and tasty. I’ll do the one with the onions. I don’t really need to watch my heart so much anymore, so beef is fine.”
I didn’t want to fight with Maureen about how all there was is beef, so I let it go. Mostly, it was on account of wanting her to go away as soon as possible. I set to work, ignoring her continual chatter and questions over the sounds of the sizzling beef. She ended up getting annoyed, so I indicated I couldn’t hear and bobbed my head as if I was listening to music. The sizzling sound overpowering her was, in a sense, music to my ears.
It took me a few minutes to cook her beef, sauté the onions separately, and combine the whole thing together in a serving boat. I passed the meal, or what masqueraded as one around here, across the window to Maureen. She took the food and summoned a small fork from thin air. That explained how everyone was eating the food. I made a mental note to also bitch to Charlie about my lack of magic powers.
Maureen ruined everything by opening her mouth again. “You really should be a little more careful with your words, sonny. They have power, just like this place. Yes, I’m going to be out of here soon. Don’t you worry about that.”
Waving her off, I said, “Of course. This is my big moment of growth. You’ve shone me the light, et cetera, et cetera. Goodbye.” I didn’t mention my sincere hope that she was out of Purgatory soon. I just knew I wasn’t that lucky. That wasn’t the last I would see of Maureen.
Warning! Customer “Maureen” has stolen the item “Smiling Imp Sticker” from your restaurant “Get out of my face, David!”
The absolute indignation of it all was beyond my comprehension. One hundred evil face stickers on the wall, take one down, pass it around, and there were ninety-nine evil face stickers on the wall.
The 7C I made from Maureen was the most painful money I ever earned, assuming you ignored the time I made five bucks in the fourth grade. The town bully offered me five dollars for a knuckle sandwich. I thought it was weird that he was going to pay me and I still got the sandwich. He punched me in the stomach and I learned a valuable lesson about there being no free sandwiches or whatever.
The good news was, according to what I remembered from the internet, I now possessed the meaning of life in the form of 42C.