Our New World 1

Our New World

Chapter 1

Ronald Catchman sat in his car, waiting. The night was hot, as he sat with the windows down and a subtle look of annoyance on his face. The long July days always give way to hot nights that seemed to offer no relief at all. The heat amplified Ron’s annoyance and he began to play with the keys in his hands.

Ron worked as an Assistant Manager of a small restaurant called Sally’s. With Four years of work under his belt at this place, Ron was proud of his current position. He had started as a busser just a few years after graduating high school, and had moved up gradually through the ranks. Moving from busser to waiter, then to supervisor and just a few months ago to his current position. He enjoyed his work to a certain extent. It wasn’t physically or mentally demanding and his responsibilities weren’t quite as stressful and the managers were. The pay was good, at least for the work he was doing, and with the economy the way it was, things could be far worse. It seemed like these days Ron received ten to twelve requests for applications per day, which he had to respond with the classic, “We are not accepting applications at this time.” A practiced response that was often met with a frown or at least a look of disappointment.

Ron sat forward in his seat and rested his head against the steering wheel. As much as he tried to enjoy his job, today had been a bitch. It had started, continued to be, and ended busy. The hot days seemed to drive more people into the restaurant.  As an Assistant Manager, it was his job to assist all the other employees in any way he can on busy days. That meant doing everything from taking lunch orders, to running food, and even rolling up your sleeves and helping to washing the endless supply of dirty dishes. He had pulled a ten hour shift with his only break coming early so that the morning manager could leave as soon as Ron was finished.

Ron was tired. His feet hurt in the dull way that only comes from standing all day. Also the small headache that had begun about eight hours into his shift had gotten worse. He began hitting his forehead against the padded steering wheel.

 Jeremy, one of the cooks, had asked Ron for a favor earlier in the day. And Ron, being the lovable Manager that he was responded as such-

            “Sure, no problem, what’s up?” Ron said, with his big Assistant Manager smile on.

            “I know it sucks, but I might need a ride home tonight. My girl probably won’t be off work ‘till like one AM,” Jeremy said.

 He was a tall kid with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Ron had never liked this particular employee. Jeremy was working his way through college, and was still living with his parents. He was all of twenty-two and he needed a ride home tonight. As much as Ron disliked Jeremy personally, he kind of admired his life. Jeremy was a college student, less than a year away from graduating. And no doubt after graduating he would quit his job at Sally’s and move on to greater things. Ron had wanted to go to college, but that had really never been in the cards for him. So it seemed that Ron would be stuck at his current position for some years to come.

            Jeremy had also mentioned his “girl,” and Ron knew who that was. Oh yes, Ron knew who she was. Jeremy’s girl had come into the restaurant a few times. Her name was Gwen, she was gorgeous. She was short, young, and blonde. The kind of girl who always had at least a few pairs of male eye’s trailing after her. When she came in she sat at the bar, and Ron heard her ask for Jeremy.

            Fucking Jeremy, with his fine girlfriend, his nice school, his piddly ass problems, and he needs a ride home from me.

            “Yeah, why not?’ Ron said.

            “Thanks dude.” Jeremy said. “I get off about nine, dude. So just hang until I’m done?’

No fucking problem dude. Ron thinks but does not say. Instead he gives his big manager smile and nods. Jeremy walks off. Ron turns back to his work.

            “Shit…” he whispers under his breath.

Now here I sit, baking, Ron thought. Ron was so looking forward to getting home for the day. He wanted nothing more than to sit in front of his flat screen and murder a lot of people online in the new shooting game he had bought the week before. True Battles it was called. He found the game entertaining in a way he hadn’t found anything else in a long while. He enjoyed the violence. He enjoyed the strange sense of exhilaration that one only gets from killing several enemy soldiers in a row. And, Ron was surprised to find just how therapeutic the game could be. How much pent up anger you could release by pulling the trigger of your favorite rifle into the face of another player. Sometimes Ron found himself jumping out of his chair, game controller clutched in his raised hand and screaming his victorious battle cry. Particularly after brutal campaigns in Search and Destroy modes. And after today, he could surely use some stress release.

Working with bitching customers all day can be quite taxing. The customer is ALWAYS right. Eric Ruth had told him this before promoting him to assistant manager. This was something the General Manager Mr. Ruth truly believed. He had put so much emphasis on the word ALWAYS. To drive this single point home.  ALWAYS right. So, out of necessity, Ron smiled and nodded. At this point he had not quite developed his patented manager smile. Mr. Ruth had seemed pleased. So Ron’s days of customer service were filled with practiced responses to all manner of complaints.

“What seems to be the problem sir?”

“Well ma’am, what can I do to correct this?”

“Of course sir, the replacement will be free.”

Always with his manager smile on, like a mask he only uses when it is needed. Mr. Ruth thought he was passing on valuable wisdom. And maybe he was. But over time Ron had developed his own little kind of wisdom. The customer is ALWAYS an asshole. No matter what, no matter who. He wouldn’t say it out loud of course, but at work this thought was never far from his mind. Oh, your steak is not medium? Oh, you asked for diet coke? Oh, you didn’t get enough fries? Well sir, here at Sally’s the customer is ALWAYS an asshole! Fuck you very much!

Ron truly believed this small bit of wisdom. Sometimes it made the long days a little more bearable. And from time to time, it put a smile on his face that was real.