It was Laura's last shift at the Burger, and boy was it a doozy! Murphy's Law was in full effect that night, and everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Two of her coworkers called in sick, leaving the team woefully understaffed. Then, to make matters worse, her own husband, who was the manager on duty, had to leave early! Laura had had to fend for herself for the last hour of business. The restaurant was hit with a sudden rush of customers, and to top it off, she had the misfortune of dealing with not one, not even two, but four Karens whose behavior bordered on the psychotic. These rabid, verbally abusive customers made it impossible for Laura to pre-close anything. She was forced to stay behind and do everything, from counting the money to cleaning the lobby and kitchen, herself after locking the doors at 9 p.m.
After what felt like an eternity, Laura was finally finished. She was completely drained, both physically and emotionally. Her brown hair, which she usually kept in a neat, short ponytail, was now a in complete disarray. Her old work shirt, splattered with grease and condiments, had been abandoned mere seconds she locked the door. With nothing else to wear, she was left with a little yellow spaghetti strap tank top that clung to her curves in all the right places and did next to nothing to conceal the tiny, bright pink bra she wore underneath and seemed to glow like a beacon in the dimly lit restaurant. It was a daring look for her, which exposed far more of her fair and freckled skin than she was used to, but it was hot in the kitchen it'd felt so good to get rid of that extra layer. At that point, she simply hadn't cared. The restaurant was closed, and it wasn't like anyone was going to see her anyway.
Laura heaved a sigh of relief as she finally slipped on her jacket and let herself out of the building. She leaned back against the wall by the front door, pressing her slender shoulders against the cool bricks. The night had been brutal, and her body ached all over. With trembling hands, she reached into her pockets and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. A moment later she took a long drag, feeling the smoke fill her lungs, the nicotine a welcome companion that eased her frayed nerves and helped her relax.
Her phone dinged.
- Hubby โกโก (11:26 PM) Its pretty late. U done yet?
As she stared at her phone, her expression darkened. Her thumb hovered uncertainly over the screen for a moment before she began typing out her reply, her fingers tapping out a furious message with a sense of purpose. Then she slowed, reconsidered what she was doing, and decided to rein it in.
- Laura (11:27 PM) Almost. Still cleaning the fryer.
- Hubby โกโก (11:27 PM) Whats taking so long? Should I come back up?
- Laura (11:28 PM) No I got it! U relax and feel better. I'm a big girl.
She waited for a reply, but no reply came. Laura sighed again and dropped her phone back into her pocket, then took another deep drag from her cigarette. The smoke swirled around her as if trying to comfort her in it's embrace.
She reminded herself once again that Dusty hadn't planned on getting sick. It wasn't his fault that he'd had to leave early, and it wouldn't be fair to take her burning frustration out on him. She hoped that the long walk home, with the cool night caressing her face and the nicotine in her veins, might soothe her fiery temper before she had a chance to go off on him.
Laura pulled her hair free from it's messy ponytail with her free hand and ran her fingers through the unruly locks, trying to smooth the tangles. She pulled up her hood to shield her face from the chilly night air. After taking one last deep drag from her cigarette, she exhaled a plume of smoke, dropped the butt to the ground and ground it out with her heel. With a heavy sigh, she stepped away from the building and into the darkness, her heart heavy with the weight of the past few hours.
The Burger shared a parking lot with the local Pizza Hut. As she crossed it on her way home, Laura couldn't help but notice that the back-of- house lights were still on in the neighboring restaurant. As ever, her eyes were drawn to a familiar, red pickup truck that was parked alone near the back door. Her feet faltered, and her heart grew even heavier than it had been beneath a well of sympathy.
It looked like her old friend, David, was having a night just as rough as hers had been. A few years back, the two of them had worked together at Dickey's BBQ on the other side of town. Their teamwork had been effortless, legendary, born from the deep trust and mutual respect they'd shared. He had always been her rock, and she his, on the hard nights, and he'd always known how to lift her spirits. Despite the distance that had grown between them, with each of them married and having moved on to different jobs, Laura felt a pang of nostalgia wash over her. She wondered if he needed a bit of cheering up as much as she did tonight?
Just then, the unwelcome ding of her phone pierced the air. Laura let out an irritated huff and reached for it. As she glanced at the screen, annoyance and resentment danced across her delicate features.
- Hubby โกโก (11:32 PM) Are u bringing any food home?
- Laura (11:33 PM) U said u were sick.
- Hubby โกโก (11:33 PM) Little better now. I could eat.
- Laura (11:33 PM) Of course. Sure. Better raid the fridge. Almost done. Im not heating the grill or fryer back up.
Laura's finger jabbed the send button with the force of a hammer blow, then she immediately shut off the screen and stuffed it into her pocket. She stood there, her breaths coming in short, angry bursts, waiting for the inevitable response. The device buzzed again, and again
"Get mad. Serves you right," Laura said through clenched teeth. Her words were low, seething with fury. The phone dinged one more time, but rather than reach for it, she balled her hands into white knuckled fists.
Laura's eyes were drawn back to the warm glow emanating from Pizza Hut's back door. The window was fogged up, but she could still see the silhouette of a burly figure moving about through it. Even from where she stood, the sound of clanging metal and the whirring of the dishwasher drifted to her ears. She lingered uncertainly for a moment, then her phone dinged again.