Short Story: Bear Tank
Bear Tank
In the morning, I wake up and dress myself . Twisting my hair into a knot, I put on my hat. I slip on my socks and shoes, kiss the husband, grab the keys, and head off to work. I arrive early, so I relax with a book in the car for about 15 minutes or so. Then, I go in, put away my jacket and pull on my apron. I take my card to the time clock, beginning my day.
Immediately, while holding a tub, I wander the floor. I search for dishes and empty tables to clean. At empty tables, I set a bucket on the seat, placing the dishes, napkins, and other papers into the container. I pull a damp cloth from my pocket, and wipe down the table, straightening the salt, pepper, and other condiments as I go. I pick up the tub, wiping down the seat. I carry the thing to the kitchen. I return later, to put fresh placemats and clean coffee mugs down, and move on to the next empty table.
"Excuse me, " I smile to the people. "Do you mind if I take this out of your way for you?" I put a dirty plate in the tub. "Thank you, have a good day." A holdover from when I was a telemarketer, always tell the customer to have a good day. Sometimes, I switch it up and use 'wonderful' or 'great.' But, most of the time it is 'good day.'
On a trip to the kitchen, a manager stops me. I can no longer use bus tubs in the dining room, only trays. I frown, scratching my head. I am awkward and clumsy with the trays, having trouble balancing them with all the stuff that needs to be carried. I'm more comfortable with the tubs, where I have more control. I sigh. Rules are rules. I have no choice, but to obey. I switch to trays, from then on, focusing on being careful, so as not to drop anything.
In the kitchen, I separate large and small plates, bowls, platters, cups and mugs, placing everything in their proper place or stack. Uneaten food gets scraped into the trash, along with any used placemats, papers, and random crayons. I set the tray in line for the dishwasher, then head out the out door, to grab another tray and collect more dishes.
If I don't go back to the dining room, I stay by the dishwasher, loading dishes into racks to go through the machine. The machine inside has water jets on the top and the bottom. The machine door, goes up and down. Typically, you raise the door of the machine, slide a rack of dishes into the machine, close the door, and the machine goes through a cycle of washing and rinsing the dishes. The process only takes a couple of minutes, sometimes you have to run the machine twice, for really messy stuff. When the dishes have been cleaned, they come out of the dishwasher, and get put where they belong.
Every once in awhile, the drain of the machine needs to get cleaned, or it won't wash properly. At these times, I open the machine, I pull the plug on the drain, take the machine apart, clean out the nasties, spray away residue from food, put it all back together, and close up the machine. After cleaning, the machine needs to take a few minutes to fill with water. While this is happening, it flashes the message "Fill." I laugh, joking that the machine has become sentient, giving itself the name of Phil. The idea of a machine having a name seems a good one. From now on, I think I'll call the machine Phil.
When the trash gets full, it's part of my duties to take it to the dumpster. If I don't have to start my shift helping clear tables in the dining room, trash is the first thing I do. I don't even take off my jacket, I just grab the canisters, wheel them to the back door, and out of the building. The back door has an alarm on it, and, before going out, I have to push a button to find out if the alarm is armed or not. If the alarm is on, I need to summon a manager to deactivate it. If the alarm is off, I simply go out, taking the trash with me, placing a piece of cardboard in the door so I don't get locked out. From there, it's straight to the dumpster and back. After that, I replace the bags, and wheel the cans back to their homes.
At the end of the day, if I close the store I clean everything. Sinks, trash, the machine. I sweep and mop the floors. Then, I flip two switches on the machine, completely shutting it down. From there, I grab my jacket and head to the time clock. Clocking out, I leave the restaurant, holding up two fingers, as I go. "Peace." I head to my car, start it up, and drive the 20 minutes it takes to get home.
Aching and stiff, I climb the stairs to my apartment. Inside, I kiss my husband, remove my uniform, spraying it down with odor eliminators, and hanging it up, readying it for the next day. After that, I lay on the couch, putting my feet out, for my husband to rub, telling him of the day I had at work. Once I've wound myself down, I head off to bed.
The work is busy. I am constantly on my feet, bending, lifting, walking, and moving. I may not always get a break. I hurt at the end of the day. But I like the people I work with. I like the activity and the job. It's rare that that kind of magic combination comes together. That's what keeps me going back, everyday.
Challenge
--Tis the end of Day one and we've made camp for the night. The day began as usual, The Lucky and the Maid were the only ones at my side. One of the Gods attempted to trick me. As the day went on, a Jester, a Noble, and a recently ascended Darkarcher, have joined this ragtag band of travelers. Many dangers await us, we shall see what fate has in store for us...
--The end of day two, meets us with a dilema. We are running low on much needed supplies in order to accomplish the goal. The only thoughts in our minds is of the celebration and feast at the end of the journey. Out of the night WeirdSmells come upon us. The Lucky was on point,
Be ye friend or be ye foe? I asked,
I be friend, for I am an Expert in all things patient, look to me for guidence, in those moments most difficult. The Shadowy figure replied. before moving off.
--At the end of day three, we have discovered that some mis-information has filtered into the camp, The Scribe handled herself in rare form, admitting her lack of intelligence. The Jester broke under the pressure of the villain and was the first to fall. Nobody gets left behind the scribe called and formed a stretcher to carry the fallen warrior.
--The End of day four leaves me in a introspective mood. Somehow it feels like I have been wrong all along. Fighting the wrong enemy. Rebelling against the wrong foe. I never behaved as a teenager. Perhaps that is where the true flaw lies. Not with anyone else, but within my own soul. This spiritual journey has been taking it's toll. I am almost afraid of what I will find at the end.
--Day five we paused in the little known town of BAR. They were celebrating the birthday of the local superhero, the BatEd. Our spirits remained high for the feastivil, then we quickly moved on our way. I suddenly realized that on Tuesday of next week, a dark day would be upon us. Even though the Challenge will be over by then, It would be one of the worst days of the year.
--As we near the end of day six, I separate myself from the other companions. I come to a clearing with a strange mystical mirror. There I see my true enemy. 'what is all this for? I wasn't trying to be mean. Yet in my anger I have hurt this new, young friend.' I draw a small dagger, hidden in my cloak, and prepare to do battle.
--End of Challenge, as I walk up to the Mirror it begins to glow and I pass through it. LaPlace appears inside the Mirror. You have done well with your challenge, you have grown and changed along the way, I guide you now to the BAR. After a few minutes of sleepy fog. I fall out of a Mirror in the ladies room of the BAR. I walk out into the BAR and there all alone on a stool is the very person this challenge was for, SuperSpecialYugi. I turn to the lad and say...
YOU ARE NOT FAIL.