People ask me why I haven't gotten bored with Friendly's, why I'm still there after five summers. Why I haven't moved on. Well, truth be told, there wasn't another restaurant hiring just for the summer. But I suppose that's not really the only reason. Days at Friendly's are never exactly alike. There are too many variables in a restaurant for boredom. You never know who may fall in the mop bucket or what specimen of humanity may walk through the door. All sorts of people come through restaurants. Like a box of chocolates, you may get one full of crap.
During one of my early summers at Friendly's, I recall a particular man who came in by himself one night. This guy looked like a true hobo, with dirty clothes and scraggly hair. The only thing missing was a gnarly walking stick. One of my friends was waiting on him, and when he went to check back with the guy, the man suddenly said, "Do you know how to tell if someone's an alien?"
My friend said, "Um, no..."
Hobo goes, "You have to run him over, you have to run him over four times, and if he's not dead by then you know he's an alien."
Now we know what to do with those tricky aliens.
It's guys like that that make my job unpredictable. Alas, they are not the ones who leave a million dollars.
Ah, this is going to be entertaining. I can't wait to follow it!
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