Working for the man.

I’m late for work, again, but that’s nothing new.
Things at Dairy Queen are hardly tolerable, but then again, I wake up and think, God, I really need this money, so I go and I work. I rarely get shifts that end while there is still sun in the sky, and this whole getting off of work at midnight thing is starting to wear on me.
Danny is really the only person I’ve been hanging out with, and he starts work at eight every morning. By the time he gets off work, I’m usually at work, which gives us the night to hang out.
It’s frustrating. My manager won’t honor any schedule requests and our cleaning lady is out for awhile, so we are left to manage ourselves (as usual) with the added task of cleaning every night.
Since the robbery, we close at ten thirty, meaning that if we’re lucky, we leave work by eleven thirty. If not, midnight.
These are the times I sincerely wish I was rich. They are few and far between, but not having to work until midnight seems like a pretty sweet deal.

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