Smash.
The expensive white plate broke into tiny little pieces on the tile floor.
From the corner of the restaurant, I heard two little boys burst into laughter as I began to clean up the shattered mess. Their laugh was loud and it echoed around the large restaurant. My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment… again.
I cringed as I felt the eyes of my boss bore into the back of my skull. What made this situation even worse was that this was normal. My daily life as a waitress consisted of rushing around, tripping over nothing, and dropping plates on the floor. I may have been clumsy, but I was working way too much for the measly pay.
And I hadn’t slept a wink in the last three days.
“I'm taking that out of your paycheck,” Andrew barked as I re-entered the kitchen with the broken pieces. “That's the second time this week. You’re a pathetic waitress. Pathetic. You stupid little girl.”
I am sure some of the customers in the restaurant could hear his verbal abuse. I could barely hide my embarrassment as he continued his rant.
“Jerk,” I muttered under my breath when he had finished.
I wiped back the twist of brunette hair that had fallen into my face and tried to smooth out my apron. As I did that, I noticed a trickle of blood on my finger. I must have cut it as I picked up the pieces.
Boy, I had some bad luck.
“Excuse me!” Andrew stammered, stomping across the kitchen.
Oh no, I’m in trouble.
His large figure stopped directly in front of my petite frame.
“Did you just say what I think you said?” he stated, looking down on me with fierce eyes.
I should have known better.
Why couldn’t I just bite my lip and keep my words to myself like my grandmother had always told me?
I was embarrassed, but at the same time exasperated at his overbearing behavior. I was beyond weary and my bones ached in tiredness. All I could think of is taking a shower and wiping off the scum that was covering my skin.
I rolled my eyes in utter defeat.
As I stared into his, I swear I could see a hint of pleasure as he’s chastised me in front of my colleagues for the third time this week. This job wasn’t worth the stress and it wasn’t worth the measly pay. The only thing I made money from was the tips.
“You know what… I’m done. You can stick your job.” I interrupted his rant.
Andrew seemed to make a move to calm himself, but then he steamed back up.
“You’re fired,” he spat in my direction.
“You don’t have to fire me! I quit!”
I ripped the apron from my body, throwing it down on the floor, and then stomped on it like it is on fire. I don’t remember my feet carrying me out of the front door, but they must have.
Next thing I knew, I was sulking outside the restaurant.
Alone.
I was standing on a busy curb in the middle of New York, stunned, watching the taxis drive by. One of them splashed dirty water on my already dirty shoes.
Damn.
I had never felt more alone. Despite being surrounded by millions of people in this busy city, I had never felt more isolated.
Stupid girl.
How could I be so stupid?
Why did I just quit the only thing that was keeping me afloat?
I needed that job to pay my bills.
Stupid girl.
Beating myself up was something I did regularly do for fun. My behind rested on the nearest chair and my head fell into my hands.
How am I going to live without a job?
What a stupid thing to do. How can I pay my debts if I don’t have an income?
Maybe I should go back to apologize, or beg for forgiveness? I could offer him something that would convince him to rehire me.
No. I wasn’t going to do that. I was just going to do what I’ve always done - find a way through the mess. It’s not like I had a choice.
As my head rested in my hands, I began to gently sob. Life has been so hard lately that I am almost out of tears.
As the gentle
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