This is an experimental fiction, I am trying to write. It is a kind of diary, which is updated irregularly which means that you, if you actually follow this story, should refer to the headlines for reference on time. The story completely bases itself in this restaurant not paying attention to everything else except if it influences the narrators work, otherwise anything else blends into black.

04.10.08

As of today I have been working at this specific fast food restaurant for three and a half months and nearly every day there are these rather weird and more or less problematic encounters at work. I had the morning shift, so it actually was a easy day, preparing everything for opening the restaurant and then waiting for people to actually come and buy the food we sell in the early morning. Yes as expected not many, to be more exact two people thought it was an good idea to eat fast food for breakfast. Making a few burgers once a while is a nice distraction from the work you usually do in the morning. Such common work included chores like, cleaning the kitchen, cutting tomatoes, preparing salad, various sauces and such stuff. As every morning before and even today cutting onions is the most despised work I have. I do not know why but somehow I have an aversion against this vegetable, it's self-defence against beings trying to tear it up just works too well. Tears flow and it burns in my eyes. It is not that it is unbearable but still not comfortable.

Enough of that now talk about people. As today was Saturday I had to work with other colleagues than usual, two high-schoolers and a new woman. I knew these two students from before but I only had seen the new woman named Windl from a far side. Today I had to work with her, I do not mind to work with newbies but after some time I asked myself if I was not trapped in some kind of time paradoxon as I explained the same thing again and again over course of hours to her. Odd enough she knew how to make the burger properly , I saw it when I had my break, so she had to work alone but when I was back she kept asking me how to do it. Do I look like a computer with a huge help button on his belly? A few hours later I had grown acostumed to this and did not mind anymore. Without further incidents my scheduled eight-hour shift ended already after 6 hours and 30 minutes of lunch break. I went home happily, hoping for a good lunch.

As small explanation for this shift. The restaurant I work in opens at 9.00 am, so for the common worker that I am the shift starts at 8.00 am and lasts till 4.00 pm including one 30 minute break. This is actually the nicest shift available I think. I am always trying to get it.